#but I realized that I hadn’t posted them anywhere

[cutielando]

Okay I have a request. Lando with his long time girlfriend and when Oscar joins the team they warn him to stay away from Lando’s drivers room after a race because him and reader love to ‘celebrate’ no matter the result of the race. And Oscar finds out the hard way. But McLaren are like use to it. 🤭🧡

Please and thank you.

poor oscar | l.n.

my masterlist

In all fairness, Oscar had been well warned about Lando and his girlfriend’s antics post-races. Given that the walls in the motorhome were very thin, as Oscar had stated previously, the team felt like they should let Oscar know what he was in for.

He hadn’t quite taken to heart what he had been told. He had been thinking to himself, how bad can it actually be? And oh boy, it was bad.

You and Lando had made a pact from the beginning of your relationship and when you started coming to all of his races that you would do something to celebrate his every race outcome, no matter how good or bad. You vowed to see every race as something positive and take something from each one.

The McLaren team had become accustomed to your shenanigans, knowing not to go anywhere near Lando’s driver room in the hours after the race. They had come to learn to stay away the hard way, if you know what I mean.

And yet, Oscar chose to ignore them. Why? He didn’t even know.

Maybe it was just pure curiosity, maybe it was ignorance, one could only make suppositions. 

If he had managed not to hear anything that even remotely resembled the warnings he had been given up until that moment, he was in for a treat this time.

You had attended the Miami GP with Lando, catching a break from your studies and having promised him that he wouldn’t have to go to a race alone after failing to attend Japan. And imagine the joy you had felt once Lando had taken the checkered flag in P1. Scratch that, imagine what was going through your mind about the celebrations you were about to have with Lando as soon as he came back to the motorhome ;).

Your boyfriend had been thinking the exact same way, trying to make his way back to the hospitality as soon as he possibly could, but still politely stopping for interviews and photos or autographs.

But once he finally reached his room and saw you waiting for him, dressed only in your underwear, he knew he was in for an enormous treat.

Oscar hadn’t heard Lando get back. He had been so deep into thought and so focused on the music he had been listening to with headphones on that he hadn’t heard the door opening, the squeals that you let out once Lando had practically pounced on you as soon as he locked the door. 

However, he was pulled out of his thoughts when he started hearing bangs, moans and dirty talking through his wall. At first he had thought he was hearing things. There was no way you were actually celebrating that loudly, right?

Wrong.

When he turned off the music and took off his headphones, he realized just how fucking loud you guys were being.

He didn’t even know how to react. What was he even supposed to do? Was he just supposed to leave his room and find somewhere else to hang out until you guys were done? Should he knock on your door and ask you guys to keep it down? No, Lando deserved the win and winding down whatever way he saw fit.

Sighing, he felt himself growing redder once the sounds on the other side of the wall only intensified. He couldn’t just stand around and listen to his teammate probably getting the fuck of his life after his maiden win, so he figured he would just get something to eat and hang out with either Mark or Logan.

The moment a member of the PR team, David, had seen him coming from his room, his cheeks a heavy crimson and refusing to make eye contact with anyone, he realized Oscar had just been the victim of Y/N and Lando.

“You heard them, didn’t you?” David asked him, an amused smile stretching on his face.

Oscar blushed even heavier, if that was even possible. Shyly, he nodded, making David laugh and pat him on the back.

“I didn’t think they were actually that bad” Oscar said, playing with his fingers as his ears could still pick up the noises he had done his best to avoid.

“We tried telling you, you didn’t want to believe us” David chuckled, patting him on the back again as he departed.

When you and Lando finally emerged from his room almost an hour later, the both of you laughed when you noticed how Oscar was avoiding eye contact with the both of you.

Poor Oscar…

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[itneverendshere]

I love pogue!reader and rafe sm. I’m so excited every time you post them ❤️ what if reader realizes she’s really falling for rafe and it’s getting serious so she’s tries to self sabotage and end it. She’s thinking he’s THE kook and she’s a pogue. It can’t last and she won’t survive that heartbreak. so rafe starts to panic but then realizes what’s she’s doing by ending it so he’s just like lol no nice try I’m not going anywhere

 i would follow you home - r.c

pairing: rafe x pogue!reader (bartender!reader universe) word count: 3.1k

hope you enjoy, i love them too 🩵

It was mid-afternoon, that quiet lull between lunch and dinner when the regulars started to trickle in. And like clockwork, you were wiping down the bar, mindlessly watching the condensation drip from a glass of iced tea when you saw Rafe strolling in.

He always had that cocky walk, shoulders rolled back like he owns the place, which, you guess, technically he kinda did, or at least his dad did. Cameron Development Group practically built the country club.

He spotted you and the corner of his mouth lifted in that way that made your stomach flip. God, you hated how it still got to you.

After months of this—him swinging by the bar at the end of his golf games, lounging against the counter like it was no big deal, driving you home, saving you from the storms, letting you kiss him—your heart should’ve calmed the hell down. But no, here you were, butterflies fluttering in your chest, fingers tightening around the rag you were using to clean.

You tossed it on the counter and busy yourself with stacking glasses.

“Hey, stranger.” His voice was all smooth like he knew exactly what effect it had on you. And he did. You were still a shitty liar and he learned that fast. 

You glanced up, trying to keep things cool, casual. “Hey yourself.”

He settled into one of the barstools, leaning forward, his blue eyes locking on yours. “You off soon?”

You shrugged. “Depends. Why?”

The truth was, you knew why. You knew exactly what he was asking.

He was wondering if you would have time after this—time to sneak off to that little spot by the docks where you'd been meeting up, where things between you had been getting more…a little complicated?

And that’s exactly why you needed to end this.

It’s not like you hadn’t seen it coming. You’d known for a while that whatever this thing was with Rafe, it was headed in a direction you couldn’t afford to follow. He was the poster child for Kook royalty. Born with a silver spoon and all that. Meanwhile, you were still just the bartender, a Pogue, barely scraping by. 

It started simple—quick conversations after work, long talks on the drive home, those random texts at 2 a.m. that turned into hours of you two confessing things you’d never say out loud to anyone else.

You din’t know when it shifted into this—this weird gray area where everything felt more intense. Maybe when you all but kissed him when he picked you up after the storm. That had to be it.

Because you knew how this story ended. You knew what happened when a girl like you fell for a guy like Rafe Cameron.

Heartbreak.

And you wouldn’t survive that.

“I’ve been thinking,” You blurted out, suddenly very aware of the way his eyes were still on you. Too aware. You reached for a clean glass, filling it with soda water to distract yourself. “Maybe we should… I dunno, cool it for a bit.”

His smirk faltered. “Cool it?”

“Yeah,” You shrugged again, trying to seem nonchalant, even though your heart was hammering so loud you were sure he could hear it. “I mean, this was fun and all, but let’s be real—”

“Be real?”

You nodded, not daring to look up from the glass you were holding.

“We’re not exactly from the same world, Rafe. It was bound to end sooner or later. Might as well rip the band-aid off now.”

Silence. For a beat, he doesn’t say anything, and for a second you wonder if you had done it—if you’d actually convinced him that this wasn’t worth it, that he should’ve just walked away and left you with at least a sliver of your heart intact.

Then he laughed.

It wasn’t like a mocking laugh, but it was still a sound you weren’t expecting. Your eyes snapped up to his face, and you saw that damn smirk was back. Only this time, there was something softer in his eyes, something almost… amused?

“Oh, I see what this is.” He leaned back, crossing his arms over his chest, looking way too pleased with himself.

You frowned, instinctively grabbing a towel and wiping the counter again, trying to distract yourself from the way his eyes were making you feel seen. Too seen. 

“What?”

“You’re scared.”

Your stomach dropped. “I’m not—”

“Yes, you are,” he interrupted, standing up and rounding the bar until he was way too close, until you could smell the cologne clinging to his skin and the fresh grass scent of the golf course. He caged you in with his body, one hand gripping the counter behind you, the other reaching up to tilt your chin so you had no choice but to meet his gaze. “You’re trying to push me away because you’re scared. But newsflash, sweetheart—nice try. I’m not going anywhere.”

You swallowed hard, throat tight, because damn it, he was right. He was completely, 100% right, and you hated it. You hated that he could see right through you like that, see all your fears, all the things you’d been trying so hard to bury.

You opened your mouth, but nothing came out.

You didn’t know what to say because, deep down, you didn’t want to believe that it mattered to him. You wanted to believe that he saw you for more than just the girl behind the bar. But every time you let yourself get close, that voice in the back of your head reminded you that this wasn’t some fairytale.

“Rafe, you’ll get bored,” you mumbled, barely able to get the words out. “You’ll realize this was just… a phase. I mean, we’re friends, right? We can just… go back to that.”

“Go back to that?” He repeated your words slowly like he was testing them out. And then he laughed—this short, disbelieving sound that made your stomach twist, “You’re trying to run.”

“Am not.”

“You are.

“There’s nothing to run from,” You snapped, though even you didn’t believe that.

He was close enough now that you had to tilt your head almost all the way back to meet his eyes, and there was something so raw, so real in the way he was looking at you that you couldn’t breathe.

“Nothing, huh?”

“Nothing,” you managed to repeat, but the word came out more like a question than a statement. The self-doubt you’d been trying to ignore bubbled up, and you hated yourself for it. 

He leaned in closer, and you could feel his breath against your skin. “If you think there’s nothing between us, then why does it hurt so much to even think about letting it go?”

His words hit a particular soft spot, and you had to bite your lip to keep from gasping. You wanted to argue, to tell him he was wrong, that you could walk away and be fine.

But the truth was, you weren’t fine. You weren’t even close to fine.

The whole time you’d been telling yourself this was just a fling, some wild phase that would burn out eventually—because that was what made sense. You weren’t supposed to fall for the guy who came from money and lived in a mansion on the hill, while you were still sharing a room with your sister in a run-down house, after yours got destroyed, on the wrong side of the island. 

This was never supposed to be real.

“You don’t get it. You’ve never had to worry about—about someone like me not fitting into your life. You don’t have people looking at you and thinking ‘what the hell is he doing with her?’”

Rafe’s eyes softened, and his thumb brushed a light circle against your waist, sending a pleasant shiver down your spine. “Who cares what people think? I’m not with them. I’m with you.”

You shook your head, more to yourself than to him, stepping back just enough to put some space between you.

"No. No, it’s not that simple. You don’t get it. You don’t get what it’s like to always be the one left behind. You’ll get bored, and then what? You just walk away and I’m the one left picking up the pieces."

He opened his mouth to argue, but you weren’t done.

"And don't say you won’t, because everyone does! I’ve seen this before. I’ve been through it. I don’t survive guys like you." Your voice cracked, and damn it, you hated how vulnerable you sounded, but it was too late. It was all spilling out now, all the fear you’d kept bottled up.

Rafe’s jaw tightened, and instead of the cocky smirk you expected, there was something different in his eyes. Anger? No, frustration maybe. But not at you.

He ran a hand through his hair, clearly trying to keep his cool. “You think I’m just some guy playing games, huh? That I’m gonna wake up one day and decide you’re not worth it?”

You crossed your arms, hugging yourself as if that would protect you from the way his words were hitting you too hard. “Isn’t that what happens?”

“No. Not with me.”

“You don’t know that!”

“I do know that!” His voice rose, and you flinched a little, caught off guard by the intensity.

He noticed and apologized immediately, stepping closer, his hand reaching for yours but stopping just short. "I’m here, with you. Because I want to be. Don’t you get that?"

You hated the way he was looking at you, the way his words hit with brutal honesty you weren’t used to—it made you pause. Your eyes fleeted away, focusing on the floor because looking at him was too much.

"Just let me go," you whispered, "It’ll hurt less now."

A muscle in his jaw twitched, and before you could pull back, he stepped forward, closing the gap between you in one swift move.

His hand cupped your face, forcing you to meet his eyes, and there was no escape from the intensity in them.

"No," he said, firm but quiet. "I’m not letting you go. You’re not pushing me away. I’m not leaving, no matter how hard you try to sabotage this."

Your breath hitched in your throat, and you shook your head, trying to argue, but then his lips were on yours, cutting off whatever weak protest you had left. The kiss wasn’t gentle or slow—it was harsh, like he was trying to make you understand something without words. 

 And damn it, you kissed him back. Because of course, you did.

Because despite everything you said, everything you feared, you wanted this. You wanted him. But the second you felt yourself giving in, you pushed him back, your hands pressed against his chest, trying to regain some control. 

"Stop doing that," you snapped, breathless.

"Doing what?" He sounded just as breathless, but he didn’t step away.

"Kissing me like you can fix this. Like—like I’m just gonna believe you."

He exhaled sharply, his hands gripping your waist, keeping you close. "You don’t have to believe me now, but I’m not going anywhere. I’ll prove it to you, okay? Just stop trying to run every time it gets hard."

"I don’t know how to do this," you admitted quietly, your hands still resting against his chest, fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt.

"I’ll show you," he whispered, his forehead resting against yours, his breath mingling with yours. "Just stop pushing me away."

For a moment, you let yourself just be there with him, your defenses crumbling piece by piece. You didn’t know how long it would last, or if you could even survive it, but maybe… just maybe, he was worth the risk.

But still, you couldn’t help but mutter, "You’re so stupid, you know that?"

His lips twitched into a smile. “And you’re still kissing me, again, so what does that say about you?”

You rolled your eyes, trying to hide the way your lips twitched with a smirk of your own.

 “Says I’m just as stupid as you,” you muttered under your breath, but the words lacked bite. Your hands stayed on his chest, fingers still gripping his polo like you were afraid to let go, like maybe if you held on tight enough, you wouldn’t fall apart, “Do you always go around kissing the saff?” You mumbled out.

Rafe’s hands moved from your waist to your back, pulling you in closer. His forehead still rested against yours, and you could feel his breath, warm and steady, brushing against your skin. It was infuriating how easy it was to melt into him.

He raised an eyebrow, his lips twitching with the start of a grin, “Only the ones who can’t seem to stay away from me.”

You groaned, shoving him in the chest with just enough force to make him stumble back a step. “God, you’re insufferable.”

He caught your wrists before you could pull away completely, his grip gentle, keeping you close enough that you could still feel the warmth of his skin through your clothes. “Yeah, well, you seem to like insufferable.”

“Do I though?” You quipped, trying to sound indifferent, but your heartbeat was giving you away. You could feel it hammering in your chest, “Because I feel like this whole thing is a bad idea. You know, like ‘kiss the rich guy, ruin your life’ kind of bad idea.”

Rafe’s expression softened, and the teasing glint in his eyes faded. “Why do you always do that?”

“Do what?” You tried to play dumb.

“Talk like this doesn’t mean something. Like I don’t mean something to you.” His voice was low, but there was a seriousness in it that made your stomach flip. “We’ve been doing this dance for a while now, and every time it starts to get real, you act like it’s just… casual.”

Your throat tightened, and you tried to pull your wrists free, but he didn’t let go, making it clear he wasn’t letting you run again.

“Maybe it is casual,” you said, even though the words tasted like a lie. “Maybe we’re just two people having a good time, and that’s it.”

He shook his head, the corner of his mouth lifting in that way that made your chest ache. “Nah. You’re not fooling me anymore. You don’t kiss someone like you kissed me just for fun.”

You blinked, your breath catching in your throat. “Rafe…”

“And you don’t look at me like that when I walk in unless there’s more to it.” His voice softened as his thumb traced light circles against your skin. “So stop pretending it’s nothing.”

“I should be working.”

But Rafe wasn’t letting you off that easy. “Yeah, you probably should,” he said, but his hands didn’t move, and neither did his eyes.

“So you’re gonna let me go?”

“Why’d you kiss me that day?” he asked, "I’ve been wondering.”

You blinked up at him, caught off guard by the question. He was so close, and it was hard to think, let alone answer something that felt so…disarming like everything you’d been running from was waiting in his words.

"I don’t know," you groaned, suddenly feeling like a cornered animal. "I wasn’t thinking straight."

His fingers traced a slow line down your arm, sending shivers through you. "You sure about that?" His voice was quiet, like he already knew you were lying, knew you too well for you to hide behind that excuse. "Because it didn’t feel like just some random kiss."

You scoffed, trying to laugh it off, trying to keep your cool, but the sound came out shaky.

"It was— I don’t know, Rafe. It was just the heat of the moment, okay? The storm… everything." You bit your lip, avoiding his gaze because you knew he wasn’t buying it. "You saved me, and I guess I was—"

"Grateful?" he interrupted, his brow arching. “Is that what you’re trying to say?”

You winced. "I didn’t mean it like that."

“Yeah, well, it sure sounds like you’re trying to make it seem like it meant nothing. Like you didn’t feel anything when you kissed me.”

You swallowed hard, the lump in your throat making it impossible to respond right away. He wasn’t wrong. That kiss had meant something—maybe more than you were ready to admit to yourself, let alone to him.

“You can’t keep acting like you don’t care, because I know you do. You wouldn’t have kissed me if you didn’t.”

The way he said it, so certain, so sure of himself—it made your heart race even faster. 

“Why do you care so much?” you whispered, the words slipping out before you could stop them. “Why does it matter?”

He frowned, like you had just asked the stupidest question in the world. “Because it matters to me.”

Your chest tightened at that, and you hated how much you wanted to believe him. "I don’t want to get hurt, Rafe."

"I’m not gonna hurt you." His voice was low, serious, like a promise, but you’d heard promises like that before. "I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t care. I’m asking for a chance, just one chance. I’m not going anywhere.”

Your chest tightened as you stared up at him. He was serious. Like, really serious. And you were scared out of your mind because you wanted to believe him so badly. But trusting someone, letting them in? That was terrifying.

“I’m scared,” you whispered, finally admitting it out loud.

“I know,” he murmured, his forehead resting gently against yours. “But I’m scared too, okay? I want to be with you. So, please, just… give us a shot.”

You closed your eyes, breathing him in, your mind racing a hundred miles per hour.

You could still feel his lips on yours, the way he made you feel like maybe, just maybe, you could let your guard down for once. And the truth was, despite all the reasons you’d been telling yourself to walk away, your heart was telling you to stay.

 “Okay.”

His breath caught. “Okay?”

You opened your eyes, “Yeah, okay. I’ll give you a chance. Don’t screw it up.”

Rafe’s lips curved into that stupid, cocky grin, “I won’t. I promise.”

You wanted to roll your eyes at him, but instead, you found yourself smiling back. 

Maybe this was crazy, maybe you were setting yourself up for heartbreak or maybe you’d really found yourself a soulmate.

[palajae]

bigger picture. 

PAIRING... ceo!sunghoon x model!reader | GENRE... childhood friends to lovers!, romance, fluff, humor | WC... 1.3k | lots of bickering, loosely based off love next door (2024)

you breathe in the fresh air with a pleased expression. this was home. it’s been years since you’ve visited, always overseas doing work. your schedule was constantly packed with shoots and campaigns taking up most of your time (and life), essentially never giving you rest time to come back. 

you finally did it. 

maybe your mom would kill you—but that was a later problem. 

especially since you hadn’t told her of your return. 

your suitcase clatters on the rough pavement while you drag it along. your eyes wander around the street you grew up on. strangely enough, it was unfamiliar and familiar at the same time. 

you stop at a building, feeling the sense of nostalgia wash over you. wasn’t this the old community pool? the one you used to visit all the time with-

you squint as you look closer to the construction sign posted on the door. 

under construction: contact park industries for more information. 

you frown. they were turning this place into something else? what a shame. you two practically grew up at this musty pool. 

“i wonder who decided to renovate this area-“

a confused calling of your name stops you in your tracks. it was a deep voice, yet a familiar one nevertheless. 

slowly, you turn in your tracks. your mouth drops open. 

“park sunghoon?! what are you doing here?”

last you heard, he was getting his masters. he looks quite, you swallow, polished in that perfectly styled suit and gelled hair of his. 

he pushes up his glasses by the nose bridge, eyes glinting as he studies you. “this is my building.”

your eyes bulge momentarily, “this is your building?! wha-wait. you own park industries?”your finger points accusatorially at him. 

“as bright as ever,” he notes while narrowing his eyes at you. you scoff immediately, crossing your arms. 

“as snooty as ever,” you snarkily reply back. you instinctively raise a fist at him while he shrinks back. perhaps the situation finally hits the both of you, as silence falls and he clears his throat. 

“you… you’re back.” he glances at your suitcase and then at you. “my mother never mentioned anything about you coming home.”

you internally cringe, pretending to scratch the back of your head. you laugh albeit awkwardly. 

“oh, really? that is weird. i just, uh-“

the sound of familiar voices approaching cause your stomach to drop. you could recognize the sound of your parents’ voices anywhere. of course, in this small neighborhood, you had to bump into them right now. 

you were screwed.

frantically, you eyes scan the area. aha—you were a genius. you fly towards an empty, large box near the entrance to sunghoon’s building. you can only hope it was used for furniture and not trash. 

“what are you-“

you glance up at him and his perplexed expression. “please. just this once.”

and with that, you flip it over and fly under the box to hide. thank goodness it didn’t smell weird. you hear muffled voices of delight as your families spot sunghoon. 

“oh, it’s been so long! are you working on this building?”

you hear him chuckle and roll your eyes. what a sucker for parents. if only they knew his true personality. 

“yes, auntie. i came to check on the construction progress.” 

you hear your mom laugh. your heart pangs as you realize you haven’t heard that sound in forever. 

“oh, you must be so busy as the ceo. we won’t bother you anymore but you have to come soon for dinner!”

“but uh,” your dad sounds confused, “who’s suitcase is this?”

you curse. 

“what was that?”

sunghoon quickly laughs, harshly kicking the box you were under as you hiss. “oh, don’t worry about that! it’s my luggage—you know, i have to start moving into the office here soon. i thought i would get a head start-mhm. you know-“

you were starting to sweat crouching in this box. but sunghoon was moving his office back home, you note. interesting. 

thankfully, your parents leave sunghoon at that and you finally try to lift the box. you grunt, pushing up but to no avail. 

“sunghoon,” you grit your teeth, “if you don’t get off the box in the next minute i will actually kill you when i get out.” 

finally, you’re able to push the box off you with a huff and a glare. 

“i think you should be thanking me.”

one of his perfect eyebrows raises up at you and you want to smack him. unfortunately, he was right though. you sigh, still sitting on the floor. 

sunghoon sighs. “you should really tell your family, you know? they barely see you as is. 

you bite your lip. of course he knew. you had grown up with each other for twenty years. 

“i don’t know why you’re suddenly back, but they deserve to know.”

“alright, alright,” you stand up while dusting yourself off, “i get it mister ceo.”

he makes an offended noise. with a sigh, you grab your suitcase and begin unzipping it. 

“what now?” he doesn’t sound surprised. sunghoon was immune to your antics. 

you take out jacket after jacket, even forcing him to hold some for you. “you know,” you start casually while putting on coats in the dead middle of summer, “safety precautions.”

“so this is the country’s top model, huh?”

you cough, “well…”

“what?” 

you look away, avoiding eye contact. “it’s just a break, for now….”

“who knows? your fiancé?” he shoves his hands in his pockets, studying the floor with an unreadable expression. you eye him warily. 

“yeah, right. i broke it off. it was all for show, anyway. you know the media eats it up.”

sunghoon suddenly glances at you with genuine concern reflected in his eyes. you don’t like it.

“so, you’re saying you broke off your engagement and quit your job?“

“temporarily!” you yell, irritated. he was getting on your nerves again. 

“you should go find your family.” 

“stop telling me what to do, hoon.”

you say it so nonchalantly but it never fails to make him shiver. especially since it’s been so long since he last heard you say that. 

it’s been so long since he’s last seen you, really. when your modeling career took off and you left to travel the world, he thought he’d never see you again. all he knew was your photoshoots online and news from the media. especially when your relationship with a top actor was announced, he didn’t expect an invitation to your wedding. 

certainly he didn’t expect to see you here, right now, standing in front of him. just like back when you two first met all those years ago. 

“what?” you call out, breaking him out of his trance. “you wanna fight? you know you’ll lose.”

sunghoon sighs, checking his shiny watch. “unlike you, most people have jobs. i’m a bit busy, so…”

you roll your eyes again, “as if.” 

and with that, you jump him. literally. 

despite the (saddening) height difference, one of your arms is tightly locked around his neck as he splutters. 

“this is what you get for keeping me in that box. i was dying in there you little piece of-!”

just barely, sunghoon manages to use his strength to pull away. he gasps and coughs as you tap your foot with a rather intimidating stare.

you two make eye contact for a good minute or so, before you turn with a humph to grab your suitcase and continue on. 

“this isn’t over, hoon.”

“why me?” he mutters under his breath before making his way to his building slash future office. 

what neither of you two realize is the unconscious smiles plastered on both of your faces. 

a/n ▸ aghhshdhesn ngl posting three days in a row was so weird i can’t keep up 💀ne ways did i write this with the intention of making a part two? that’s up to you to decide :)

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[penkura]

No One Better

Note: Ahh I didn't know how to go about this, but here it is! It's another in the OP Men as Dads series, but this one is ONLY Zoro and his son. I just had this idea after seeing this OC template on Pinterest, and I had to do it, I couldn't not. I have thoughts floating around for other characters in this same vein of calming down their children, and I will post them separately like this most likely! For now, please enjoy Zoro being a wonderful, soft dad to his little boy. 🥹 I want to have his babies so bad, where is my irl Zoro omg

Your son may be Zoro’s child too, but he’s a big crybaby when either of you are missing from his sight. He could be happily sitting in your lap or on Zoro’s chest, but when Keitaro notices one of you isn’t around, he immediately pouts and begins to cry. At first it’s legitimate tears, until he learns that he can get you with crocodile tears because that’s your baby boy, of course you’re going to run to him when he cries! You figured it out quickly when he instantly started to smile and coo at you the first time he cried crocodile tears to get your attention, Zoro didn’t believe you for a few weeks until your ten-month-old did it to him too. He just loves you and Zoro so much, he wants you both around him all the time.

Zoro is able to calm him down very easily, just by talking to Keitaro gently. An older woman on an island you stopped at was surprised to see how easily Keitaro calmed down and went from nearly sobbing to happy little giggles when Zoro just took him from you and started asking him what was wrong, why was he so upset all of a sudden (he couldn’t see Zoro standing nearby, that was the problem). The woman was highly impressed and said her own husband hadn’t been that good with their children, it made you smile and thank her for the compliment, since you knew Zoro would never.

Keitaro is big enough to sit up on your lap during a party between your crew, the Heart Pirates, and the Kid Pirates when the three of you run into each other. Members of your (now permanently) allied crews coo and fawn over your son, the youngest of all the crews, and he adores the attention he receives from all these new people. Once everyone goes back to drinking and playing games, you choose to stay to the side with Keitaro, keeping him from the alcohol and making sure he stays happy while everything goes on, and he does, looking around at everyone and giggling when he sees Luffy do something funny.

Keitaro is happy and calm until he realizes he doesn’t see Zoro anywhere, making your nearly year old son start to pout and fuss. You try your hardest to calm him down when he really starts to cry and kick his legs because he’s frustrated, quietly speaking to him and placing kisses on his little head to help.

“Hey, little guy,” you feel beyond relived when Zoro comes over, resting his arms on your thighs and getting nose to nose with your son, which starts to calm him down, “What’re you crying for?”

Keitaro slowly calms down, looking at Zoro cross-eyed at first before his eyes fully focus on him, starting to smile and coo again as he puts his tiny hands on Zoro’s face. It makes Zoro smile in return as he takes your son from you, intending to give you a small break.

“Let’s give mama a few minutes to enjoy the party too, yeah?” Zoro gently tosses your son in the air a few times, Keitaro letting out squeals and giggles in response.

You slip away to the girls for a while, Ikkaku giving you a smile and telling you how lucky you are with Zoro, causing you to look back at them with your own smile. Keitaro has his thumb in his mouth as he lays against Zoro’s chest where he can see you, content and slowly falling asleep, while your husband rubs his back to help him relax.

“He’s really the best dad to Keitaro, I couldn’t have asked for anything better.”

[vampyrial]

Sugar

summary: cooking for someone is the sweetest expression of love.

pairing: mark grayson x gn!reader

content warnings: soft yan!reader, poisoning, gaslighting, caretaking, fluffy if you ignore that reader is a lil crazy

author’s note: I never posted this here but in honor of s2 of invincible, here’s this fic I wrote after s1 😵‍💫 my first mark fic

Mark remembered his mom making pancakes on the weekends. It was his favorite breakfast when he was a kid. There was less time for sit down breakfasts as he grew older and spent more time outside the house working, going to school or hanging out with William, it remained a nostalgic thing for him. The smell of butter, the sizzle of the batter hitting the hot pan, he hadn’t realized he missed it.

Not until he woke up to the clattering of pans downstairs. Debbie was out for the day already, busying herself with work. As of late, the house had become stifling and she felt ill at ease. Mark was mostly left to his own devices for food and Mark being Mark, mostly subsisted on take out.

You had slept over (in the guest room, per Debbie’s request) and woken up early to make breakfast. Into the dry ingredients, you added a vial of powder as white as flour. You sprinkled it all in, hand inside the bowl, careful not to let it spill anywhere. You mixed carefully. With a focus as complete as ever, batter dropped onto the pan, sizzling. 

“Making breakfast?” His voice almost made you jump. You thought you were used to him sneaking up on you.

“Good morning to you too, Mark” You smiled to yourself, not looking up at him. “And yes, I’m making you pancakes.”

You didn’t look up but you could tell he was surprised by the pause and the awkward shift of his silhouette.

“I didn't…I know I only eat out these days but I don’t need you to cook for me, I feel kind of like an asshole watching you cook for me in my own house” He mumbled, looking away.

“I know I don’t need to, I want to. I’d feel better if you didn’t eat pizza everyday for breakfast.” 

“It’s not everyday, just…most of the time” He was embarrassed you’d noticed. “Are you not gonna have some?” He changed the topic. 

“I had four bowls of captain crunch at 5am, I’m not exactly sure more sugar is a good idea for me right now.”

You flipped the pancakes onto a plate, sliced a pat of butter onto the top and poured the syrup. Mark, even in his quest to be somewhat gentlemanly, could not resist. The first bite of the buttery pancakes drenched in the syrup evoked strong feelings. Longing, gratitude and love. The yearning for an innocence abandoned and the feeling of being loved was so strong he could cry.

Mark, like most teenage boys, could eat. You silently kept cooking pancakes and he kept eating them. It was a lovely morning, the air was sweet and the sky was a vibrant blue. You spent the day in Mark’s room, in pajamas, tracing shapes over his skin with your fingertips as you watched a marathon of movies he liked. He eagerly explained every gag and bit of trivia. But as the sky began to darken with the day’s end, Mark’s energy declined.

He was sluggish and he felt a bit warm. When he insisted he was alright, you still stayed by his side. A comfort he was secretly grateful for. Even when Debbie came home, fatigued, you kindly asserted that you would stay up with Mark and watch over him. It was only right, Debbie already had enough to deal with and she fussed over Mark until the early hours. If there was anyone she could trust Mark to, it would be you, just while she got some sleep at least.

You wiped the sweat from Mark’s brow with a gentle hand. You brought him water and aspirin, you rubbed his tender muscles, you changed his sheets soaked by sweat. Mark felt like shit but knowing you were there, unperturbed by his frequent vomiting, was a comfort beyond words. You even slept in the same bed as him now, holding his hand, rubbing over it with your fingers. He felt like a kid again, cared for and safe.

Even though after more than a week, Debbie wanted to bring him to the hospital, you waved away her concerns. “Part of this might be coming from Mark’s emotional state after what happened, maybe we have grief to blame for this, in part. Mark doesn’t need a hospital, his symptoms aren’t worse than the stomach flu, he just needs to be cared for” you had said, so convincingly, so knowingly, that it made her hesitate. You only had his best interests at heart. Mark even spoke up and said he didn’t need to go to the hospital. He had been in the hospital so often, he was sick of it. Even the memory of the strong antiseptic smell brought a sense of dread. He would rather be with you, at home being touched by your familiar, healing, hands.

He loved you so much, and told you as much very often. When you were showering with him, washing him because he was too winded; your wet, warm skin carefully cleaning his, he murmured ‘I love you.’ He was vulnerable, tender, worn and tired but he was certain of one thing. He couldn’t live without your warmth. Everyone else counted on him, they needed something from him and if he failed to deliver he’d be letting them down. It’d be another fuck up to add to the roster and yet another time someone he loved would look at him like a loser. But with you, he felt the closest thing to unconditional love he had ever experienced from anyone besides his mom. You didn’t care who he decided to help or what he messed up, you would always accept him. Even if you weren’t always pleased with what he did, you never judged him harshly for his mistakes. For his wins or his fails, you loved him. Mark thought it was way more than he deserved and part of him really did regret his actions more in the face of your forgiveness. He did feel like such an asshole when he found comfort in your acceptance, when you consoled him as if he really deserved it. But fuck if he didn’t need it.

He obviously couldn’t rush off saving people like he had, so he stayed safely inside. His world was small and manageable. His body was whole, if aching and feverish. That was what you intended. For Mark to be safe. He was always putting himself in danger like it didn’t matter, running off to save the world like no one else. Sometimes he would come back intact and sometimes he wouldn’t. Sometimes he was a hair’s breadth away from death. But Mark didn’t want to stay put, you weren’t strong enough to protect him directly and you couldn’t order him to. What were you to do?

A bit of poison wouldn’t do him in, in fact, you were certain it wouldn’t even keep him down very long. But buying even this amount of time was a blessing. You wanted to keep him safe, keep him inside forever if that’s what it took but that wouldn’t work. For now, you were just buying a little time and some peace of mind. You tell yourself you were driven to this.

A few days later, Mark’s strength had recovered somewhat. You fed him soup and he kept all of it down. He was relieved to be recovering even though he would miss being babied by you and Debbie’s worries eased meaning you were safe from her suspicion. He went back to school, back to saving the world eventually. You waited until enough time passed. Until you could return things to how they should be.

The moment came six months later, the previous night you two had been out with William and Eve. He’d rushed off to the city with Eve while you were in the middle of eating at some greasy pizza joint. Your heart fluttered as you gazed at the empty space next to you in the booth. At least Eve was with him, though it was a poor consolation. They were fighting the same aliens they were overwhelmed by a few weeks ago. He came home in one piece, thankfully, but he had been fighting so much lately. Cecil asked so much of him, he’d been flying off to this and that attack. He was bound to be hurt again soon, even just that month there had been threats he’d barely escaped from. It was your misfortune to fall in love with a hero, it meant that he would never really be safe and neither would you.

You called Mark to sleep over at yours when he came back that night. Your mother worked late or sometimes, simply didn’t want to come home so the house was yours. The two of you watched mafia movies, argued about whether the godfather was overrated or not and ate an ungodly amount of popcorn. The following morning, you cooked a big breakfast, muffins, bacon, omelets. Pancakes. 

He ate so hungrily it hurt your heart. He truly did love your cooking. Even though Debbie had gradually started making dinner for him again months ago, he had really missed your cooking. It wasn’t that her’s wasn't delicious, it was just…there was something that made him warm inside about the idea that you should make something for him. That you thought about him, cared about him enough. That much effort wasn’t necessarily a given in a high school relationship. It was new and nice to be with someone who showed their love for him so frankly.

You watched him eat with such a sweet look on your face. You ate with him, an omelette and bacon, for the sake of appearance. Planned out in anticipation of Mark’s tastes and in the interest of keeping suspicion to a minimum, you added your remedy to both the muffins and the pancakes. The muffins had less of it, as you knew Mark would be likely to eat more pancakes than muffins but if he chose to forgo that for the opposite, he would still be made ill. You even had plans for the unlikely event that he chose to eat neither. But Mark wasn’t rude enough to pass up food made for him by someone he loves.

Shortly after breakfast, Mark was in the bathroom vomiting. It seemed far more likely that the pizza joint with the sticky seats and chain smoking cooks gave him food poisoning than anything having been wrong with your food. In his head, it didn’t even occur to him. When you helped him into bed, he felt grateful that he was with you. It was such a relief not to say that he was fine, not to have to be brave. Nobody cared for him as gently as you did. 

Your sheets and your pillows smelled like you. Mark felt weird smelling your things but it was nice to be surrounded by comfort. You washed him in your soap so he smelled like you too. He couldn’t have wanted you more in that moment, he wanted your skin against yours. He wanted your voice, the brush of your fingertips against his. When he was well, he wanted to be someone you would be proud to be with. To be that hero you deserve. When he was this sick, he still had that desire lingering somewhere in the background but he melted down into the barest of wants. And what remained was a need for you, an uncomplicated desire. He felt as if he’d dissolve into your mattress if he couldn’t feel you.

“I’m right here, Mark” You murmured, cleaning the sweat from his chest with a cloth. You have such gentle hands, your eyes stay on his to make sure you’re not hurting him. Under your loving attention, a few tears roll down Mark’s cheek. He can’t help it, you’re always there for him. Without you, who does he have to lean on like this? His mom was already a wreck, Eve had her own problems, William had no idea how to deal with something as big as what he went through — he doesn’t even know how to deal with it. He cannot live without you, who doesn’t understand what he went through but understands what he needs better than anyone.

“What’s the matter? Does something hurt?” You asked, panicked at his tears. Mark didn’t cry easily, you hadn’t meant to put him in so much pain he’d cry. You had added just enough, you always operated on that balance. Just enough pain, just enough sickness, just enough time.

“No, it’s just-” Mark’s voice was raw. “I’m glad I’m with you, that’s all.”

You softened. Hearing him say that made you melt into a puddle of sticky sweet syrup. It only strengthened your resolve and you were overcome with the need to keep him safe. And with the knowledge that if something happened to him, you would die. When the savage, gruesome fight happened, your stomach was in knots for days while you heard no news. Your heart squeezed painfully as if you were going to have a heart attack and it went on for days. When you slept to escape the constant anxiety, you had nightmares. You didn’t even go to school, you couldn’t get out of bed for anything other than checking whether or not he’d come home. For weeks you lived in hell, thinking you would lose him. And although he was alright that time, a piece of that moment lived in you every time he flew off toward danger. 

“I love you so much, Mark” You bowed your head and rested it against his chest, hearing his strong heart beating. You pressed a kiss there, along the contours of his chest, right over his heart.

“I love you too” He mumbled weakly. There couldn’t be anything sweeter than you.

Your love was falling over him like powdered sugar. These moments, without knowing it, he had come to need them. Being sick was the only time he was allowed to fully be human. No one needed or expected anything of him. Under your care, he could be briefly vulnerable. 

That was all you needed to ease that inkling of guilt that rose in the back of your mind. Who was protecting him like he protected everyone else? No one but you. It was why you had to resort to using underhanded methods, if everyone was trying to protect him, if they only cared — you wouldn’t need to. That was what you reasoned, anyway.

Mark needed you, anyone with eyes could see that. And you had no intention of abandoning him. Whatever you had to do, in your eyes it was all the desperation of a powerless human trying to save the man they love. It was romantic, even. You anticipated the moment where Mark might put two and two together. It made you anxious and you had practiced the speech you’d give him a thousand times. “I love you and I’m scared. I’m so scared for you. I always am." But you soothed yourself with the knowledge that Mark would understand, above anyone else, you’d earned the benefit of the doubt.

Because Mark knew what he needed, even if it was something he couldn’t have expressed on his own. Even if it was something that he shouldn’t. He was only human — even if he was half viltrumite — could he really deny your feelings and his own? No. Not when you were his saving grace. How could he not understand what you were trying to do when his sentiments were nearly the same?

You were watching Mark sleep, laying next to him, his arm around you. His skin was warm and his breaths were labored. You reassured yourself as you pulled the blanket up to his chest. You would take good care of him, he knew that. He had to, he had to know. He just had to.

[yandere-sins]

Prisoner #006

a/n: A spin on the usual yandere situation, but this story has been sitting in my drafts for a while, I think it's time to release it ^^

Fandom: Genshin Impact Characters: Yandere!Prisoner!GN!Reader x Prisoner!Kaveh Warnings: Yandere, Violence (Reader is being psycho, lost of mentioning of murder and death, Reader stabs someone... a few times, Scratching, Intimidation, Threats, Cornering and intruding on personal space), Long Post

[Prison Project Introduction | Pinterest Moodboard]

Kaveh should have been afraid.

Deep down, he believed he wasn't as stupid and gullible as everyone made him out to be, and yet, he sat still as you drew meaningless little patterns into his skin. The stolen pen scratched over his arm, leaving the area next to the ink red and agitated, but he didn't have it in him to tell you to stop.

You've been a depressed mess since you came to prison, not your typical murderer behind bars. He'd been dealing with a lot of them, and if they weren't the psychotic type, they were haughty and always up for cruel jokes.

But not you. You were... peaceful.

Even when you cried and begged him not to hurt you after you've been brought to his cell despite his protests, the air around you was calm. Unlike the storm of personalities outside the bars of your cell, Kaveh actually managed to think in peace when he was around you. He had learned to navigate and time his way around the prison. Still, with the ruckus and disgusting things happening in the shadowy corners, there was never any space for him to let go and relax for a while—until he met you.

The knowledge about your prolific murders should have upset him enough to keep his distance, but you reminded him too much of himself when he first came here. Scared and unable to go anywhere without being harassed by the others. You clung to him desperately when he told you to tag along to the cafeteria on your first night, and you still asked him to go to the washrooms with you for safety. Kaveh couldn't blame you for being scared. It was a scary world, outside and inside of this prison.

So even though he knew about your wrong-doings, he let you scribble your marks on him in ink. You were humming a song he hadn't heard before, your mind in your own world as you left butterfly wings and flower petals on his skin, and Kaveh honestly had no complaints. Coming here, art had become sparse around him, the radio rarely running, the TV filled with sports but never dancing or acting. The paintings on the walls leading to the facilities were, frankly, hideous copies of capitalistic emphasis, and the prison layout was a smack in the face of any architect.

And then there was you. Not a Picasso per definition, but you drew the patterns effortlessly, unbothered by pressure to perform and perfectionism. Every stroke of the ballpoint pen was all you, not a style you worked to learn or something you copied from another artist. It was all and truly just you. Kaveh had no idea how much he could admire someone—even someone as terrible as you. But he did.

"Let's leave from here. Together."

The words slipped from his lips before he could even think about them. Alhaitham's plan of escaping was still fresh, depending on some hacker he met in this prison, and Kaveh should have never talked about it so casually. He couldn't promise it, couldn't say it would actually work. But when you stopped scribbling, he realized his mistake, looking up at you in horror over his own blabbermouth.

Only to be met with tears streaming from your eyes.

"You'd take me with you? After all I've done?" you mumbled, rubbing the back of your hand over your eyes.

"You... you didn't do it to me. We could start over, somewhere new. Somewhere no one knows our faces and just... live. Quietly and unknown. Only if you want to come... with me."

For a long moment, you stared at him. Unblinking, unreadable. Your arms were thrown forward, wrapping around his neck before your whole body jumped into his lap, discarding the pen and leaving it to clatter on the floor. "Yes!" you agreed euphorically, smiling from ear to ear.

Kaveh felt the heat rush into his face, happiness prickling in the corners of his eyes as he hugged you back. It almost felt like you agreed to marry him, rather than just join him on the escape. But he knew then that he'd work hard to become the man you needed in the future. Someone reliable, someone who could provide you with a life that wouldn't need you killing anybody anymore. So that the dream of you two living together in peace could become reality.

«──────── 🗡♡ ︎𓍝 ────────»

Kaveh should have been afraid.

Deep down, he was as stupid and gullible as everyone told him. He believed that you could turn over a new leaf. Running away with you could become a new start, different from the pitiful life you two had. That the two of you could live away from cruelty and bloodshed, in peace and quiet and togetherness.

And yet, he was staring down at the cold-blooded killer he fell in love with. Whose trap had been placed so subtly that Kaveh ran right into it. He didn't even know you had a knife ready on the day of your escape, and there was no one left—alive—aside from you two to turn to. Everyone who had fled had spread into different directions, and now it was only him and you and the dead corpses of the police that had caught up to you.

It was his fault, entirely so. They might have survived this encounter if he hadn't gotten close to you and you hadn't been convinced to run away with him. Had he not gotten himself caught, maybe you wouldn't have turned back to help him and had kept running instead, far, far away. Perhaps you wouldn't have pulled out your blade and killed these innocent men who were only doing their job to keep unruly people away from society. That kept psychos like you away from more victims to massacre.

"[Name]..." Kaveh stammered, not believing his own, wide-open eyes. The hand he was holding out towards you was shaking violently as he watched you slam the knife into the policeman's back again and again, blood spraying all over you and the squelching sound of flesh being stabbed echoing through the forest. Somehow, he had gotten back on his feet after being tackled to the ground. However, now that he had to watch you defend him so violently, Kaveh wished he had stayed face-down in the dirt.

"GET YOUR HAND OFF HIM! HE'S MINE!" you kept yelling at the dead body, and Kaveh couldn't help but feel pity for the guy as you mauled him. "YOU CAN'T HAVE HIM! HE BELONGS TO ME! HE'S MINE! MINE!"

Your voice was a screech in the dark, possessiveness thrumming in every word you screamed. Even if you two had grown closer the last few days, Kaveh couldn't understand your thoughts. Although you had protected him, seeing the blood drip off you in the moonlight only sent shivers down his spine rather than thankfulness. And where he felt a crush bloom in his heart before, there was nothing but terror and disgust left.

"[Name]--" he tried again, this time a little firmer as he grabbed your shoulder.

Instantly, you whirled around, fury and madness in your eyes. The bloody blade swiped up his arms, cutting up the beautifully drawn pattern left by you. Kaveh knew it was just an accident, but he couldn't help but yell, "Ow!" holding his own arm firmly against his chest as he stared at you fearfully. Stumbling back, he tripped over a root, the pain of collapsing to the ground shaking him, but fear forced him to keep watching you. What if he was your next victim? Nothing about you screamed trustworthy, and yet, when you came to your senses, you changed completely.

Suddenly, your body went slack, eyes swelling up with tears as you looked at him. "Kaveh!" you sobbed, the knife falling to the ground as you stumbled to your feet, knees buckling so you collapsed into the dirt before him. You stretched out your arms, but this time, Kaveh managed to jerk away, avoiding your blood-soaked hug.

However, you were just a little faster than him. A little more alert. You managed to grab the wounded arm, your tears stinging as they fell into his wound. Leaning over his limb, you cried bitterly, but Kaveh couldn't help but try and tug his arm from your hands. Immediately, your crying stopped, fingers clawing into your skin as he tried to get you off him—no success.

"You can't leave me!" you sobbed, looking up with tears in your eyes. Manipulative tears, as Kaveh began to realize, the reality starting to dawn on him. "I love you! We'll have a life together! We'll go somewhere no one knows us! I won't kill again, I promise! I just didn't want them to hurt you... I wanted them to leave you alone! I won't do it again, I can be harmless, I promise!"

His gut wrenched, hearing you throw his words back at him. Now knowing how easy it was for you to end someone's life, how much of a crazy person you really were, it felt like he was the one that had been gutted. Maybe everything would be fine this time, but Kaveh couldn't justify it with himself to find out. Your hands were already so bloody; no trying to pretend you were normal was going to wash away your sins. At least he never killed someone. He couldn't imagine someone doing it as easily as you had, not even thinking twice before attacking.

"N-No..." he stammered, unable to put all these feelings into words.

"No?" you repeated, the tears stopping suddenly. "What do you mean 'no'? I saved you, didn't I? Without me, you'd be the dead one!"

Your tone changed so quickly that it scared him to the bone. The fire started back up in your eyes as you glared at him. Kaveh felt your nails dig into his arm, tearing apart layers of skin as your anger turned towards him.

"You won't leave me! You can't leave me!"

With your voice raising back into screeching, Kaveh shuddered, eyeing the knife that laid out of reach. You didn't need it, your nails cutting into his flesh just as painfully. Fear was mangling every muscle in his body, making them tense and tainting his judgment.

"O-okay," he stuttered out, and immediately, the pressure vanished. Your shoulders slacked, and a smile crept back on your lips as you whispered, "Thank god..."

You hunched over his wounded arm, now punctured by your nails and the cut starting to dry up. The next thing Kaveh felt was wetness wiping over his wounds, your tongue lapping off the blood that stained him, whether it was his or the one dripping from you.

"I love you," you mumbled while licking. "I love you, Kaveh. You're so nice, so sweet. You're perfect, and you're mine. All mine. Kaveh, Kaveh, Kaveh..."

Looking down at the unsightly view before him, Kaveh couldn't help but pity himself. Had he known what he got himself into, could he have prevented this? Which version of you had been the real one, and had you pretended to be sweet and shy, tricking him into this all this time? Or was it real? So many questions and so few answers. All he could think of was how he had been scammed yet again as he watched the ink smear from your licking, the beautifully drawn butterflies vanishing alongside those in his belly, all of them dropping dead.

And now, Kaveh was afraid.

[rainrot4me]

Steam Roller | Chapter 2

Summary: After tracking you down, Jeffrey’s obsession for your attitude leads him to give you a little surprise visit.

Characters: Jeffrey Woods x Female Reader

SMUT WARNING MINORS DNI

TW: Stalking, home invasion, non-con elements, shower sex, grinding, power struggle, dirty talk, vaginal, domination, begging, overstimulation

Words: 3.6k

This is a continuation, see chapter one here.

Police swarmed the woods in the days following. 

Annoying investigators rummaged through the gory evidence but were left unsatisfied when they could find no trace of any suspect. Jeffrey was careful, not leaving anything that could trace him or any other creeps into a heap of trouble. Slender was still cautious, sending Jeff and Toby out to hang to the tree line, making sure the investigators didn’t get too ballsy. 

Jeffrey sighed, knicking the blade of his knife against a fallen log as Toby sat perched against a larger tree. They were plum shit bored. The round of police shuffling through the discarded tents as a couple of guys in bio-hazard suits shuffled the mangled bodies into body bags. The boys rested several meters away, concealed by the early-morning shadows. Jeff stabbed the tip of his knife into the rotted log, letting out an annoyed huff.

“These dipshits aren’t going anywhere. I don’t know why the fucking guy makes us stand guard like they’re smart enough to find us out anyways.” Jeffrey groaned, shoving his hands into his pockets and glaring at Toby, half asleep. Jeff grimaced, kicking some dead leaves up in Toby’s direction, stirring him out of his nap. “He- hey, fuck o- off man,” Toby groaned, brushing the leaves off of his jacket. “Not my fa- fault you got hor- horny and let some g- girl go.”

Jeff rolled his eyes, tsking as he turned to face the gaggle of cops again. After his post-nut clarity last night, Jeffrey mentally slapped himself for taking advantage of the situation and letting you go. When police cars entered the woods early the next morning, the mansion’s residents quickly found out about Jeffrey’s slip up, Toby being the first to whoop his ass about it. Why hadn’t he killed you after he was finished? You were cute, but cute enough to risk his ass against Slender? He didn’t know what caused him to trust his dick over his brain.

Jeffrey huffed, running his hand through his tangled hair. He glared at the scene again, eyes shooting wide when he realized two men in suits were sauntering over in their direction. “Shit! Toby, hide!” He hissed, snatching his knife out of the log before scaling a nearby tree. He hoisted himself onto a thicker branch, using the leaves to conceal himself as he watched Toby scramble into a group of hedges nearby. Jeff held his breath, watching as the investigators walked closer, stopping right under the tree Jeff rested in. Perfect. One rummaged in his pocket, pulling out a pack of cigarettes and handing his partner one before taking one for himself. Jeff cursed himself, praying one of them didn’t look up during their supposed smoke break.

“Jesus it reeks over there.” The taller one groaned, lighting the end of his cigarette before sucking in deeply and releasing a cloud of smoke. The shorter one lit his as well, shoving his hand in his pocket as he pulled out his phone. “No reception either. Who camps out in the middle of bum-fuck nowhere?” He huffed, shoving his phone back into his pocket before taking a drag of his cigarette. “Beats me, but I know that kid won’t be camping for a good while.” They both chuckled, stiffly kicking in the dead leaves around them.

Jeff groaned to himself, their corny remarks leaving a bad taste in his mouth.

“You ever got an update on her? What’s ‘er name, [Y/N]?” The shorter man asked, huffing more smoke into the air. Jeff leaned forward, furrowing his brows. “[Y/N] [Y/L/N]. Well, after she stumbled into the station looking half stir-crazy, some guys ran her to the hospital and she checked out this morning. She wasn’t hurt or nothin’ but definitely shaken up. Poor thing.” The taller one sighed, tossing his stubby cig and stomping it out. “Shit… you think we’ll find the guy who did this?” He stomped out his as well. “Hell no. No clue where to even start and the chief is ready to pack up and go home anyway. I call same.” At that, both the men groaned and sauntered back over to the shuffle of cops and hazmat shit.

Jeff let out a deep breath, hopping down from the tree as Toby emerged from his brush. Toby rolled his eyes at Jeff, taking his spot back against the tree. “And she got aw- away. Du- dumbass,” he scoffed. Jeff brushed the branches off of his sweatshirt, shoving his hands back into his pockets as he turned to walk to the mansion. “Pack it up, twitch,” he huffed. “I’ve got it covered, just sit here till they leave.” Toby rolled his eyes.

Jeff smiled to himself. He’s got you now.

-

“Give me your laptop.” Jeff chopped, blocking Ben’s view of his match of mario kart. Ben paused the game, raising an eyebrow at Jeff. “For..?” Jeff rolled his eyes, impatient. “Porn. Now hand it over.” Ben scoffed, pulling up the couch cushion and rummaging a crusty laptop before handing it to Jeff. “Don’t break it,” Ben called to Jeff as he walked away, resuming his game.

Jeff sat down on his bed, opening the laptop and clicking on the search bar. He started by searching your name, opening social media pages, LinkedIn forums, and anything he could find about you. He eventually stumbled on a mini-news link reporting on the events of last night. Shit, the news worked fast. Jeff scrolled through the short article, recounting the events of last night until he found a serious lack of any mention of him. No reports of a description of him or any specific actions. The article mentioned your name loud and clear, a short interview retelling how you were too in shock to see any specific details about the killer. Bullshit. He was tongue-deep inside of you.

Jeff sat back, rubbing the back of his neck as he scanned your LinkedIn account once again, mentally jotting down your address before shutting the laptop. He needed to get rid of you before your good conscience slipped and you decided to play hero. He lifted his hood over his head, heading down and through the doors of the mansion as he set off to find you.

-

Your house wasn’t anything to gawk at. A little mini-home at the end of a wooded culdesac road. There weren’t any houses near you, which made it easier than ever for Jeff to just saunter right up to a window, warm light emitting from a lamp nearby. He peeked in, a cozy living room sitting empty. He moved around the house, carefully scaling and peeking into every available window to try and gauge where you were before eventually peeking into a larger window, a dark room laid before him. A soft glow emits from a slightly cracked door, steam pouring from the room.

Jeff unsheathes his knife, sliding it between the glass and screen and forcing the window lock to unlatch. He slowly lifts the window open, hoisting himself up and through the window quietly. Inside the room, he slowly slides the glass back down, perching against the window sill as he notices the sound of running water coming from the adjacent room. Jeffrey grins to himself, crossing his arms across his chest as the door slowly pulls open. There you were. You shuffled through the bathroom door, walking to your nightstand and flicking on the lamp. You wore nothing but a bra and some lacy panties, a towel folded in your hand as you turned back towards the bathroom door. That’s when you saw him, the pale killer resting against your window. Jeff could see the color leave your face as you slowly turned to face him head-on. 

Your face shot red, throwing the towel to cover yourself from his perverted gaze, his smile sending shivers through you. “Oh now, don’t act like I ain’t seen it already…” Jeff chuckled, pushing himself off the window and shoving his hands into his pockets. You took several steps back, body stiffening with fear. “Get the fuck out.” You growled. Your phone was on your bed, way too far out of reach while the door to your hallway was on the other side of the room. You were stuck. But, you’ve fought him once and you’re not afraid to again if it comes down to it. “Oh come on babe, don’t be sour now,” he grinned. Cold blood ran through you. “Do not call me that you piece of shit.” You growled, gritting your teeth. The day had been hell. Paranoia and fear run rampant through your mind at every turn. Constant phone calls and texts asking about details, but even thinking about the man made you sick to your stomach. But here he stood, a proud smirk on his face that made your blood boil.

“What would you rather I call you?” Jeff questioned, snapping you out of your thoughts. “Whore? Cock-slut sounds nice.” He laughed, taking a step closer. He leaned forward, relishing in the blush appearing on your cheeks. “I’m really here to ask about your little interview I saw today. Any reason you decided to keep your little run-in with me a secret?” You grimaced, looking down at the floor, shuffling your feet. “Because the thought of you makes me want to vomit, let alone having to recount it to someone else.” You spat, refusing to look the killer in the eyes. Jeff grinned, taking his hands out of his pockets to cross his arms again. “Is that really it? Or were you too embarrassed? Hmm? Cunt still craving my tongue?” Jeff laughed like a bastard, your face blowing red as you refused to look up at him. He took the final steps to close the space between you, your body going stiff as he backed you to the wall. He reached out, rubbing the back of his knuckle against your cheek, pouting his lips at you. “Why so shy now? Lost all your fire babe?” You glared up into his eyes, snatching his wrist. “Fuck you, coming in while I’m practically naked before a shower.” Jeff snatched his wrist away, gritting his teeth in irritation. Your charm was beginning to wear off quickly, a nuisance more than anything. 

“Don’t let me stop you then,” Jeff growled, gripping a handful of your hair and dragging you into the brightly lit bathroom. He pulled back the shower curtain, shoving you into the tub roughly. You groaned as you landed on your side, barely able to look up before Jeff turned on the faucet, hot water spraying out of the shower head onto you, soaking you and your underwear. You gasped, reaching to sit yourself up before Jeff grabbed you by your arms and forced you up, turning you to face the shower and slamming you against the cool interior. 

Rubbing his hands all over your body, Jeffrey’s touch made its way down to your crotch, rubbing you roughly through your panties. “This pussy is mine, whether you admit it or not.” He snarled in your ear, nibbling on the lobe as it sent shivers down your spine. You gasped, Jeff’s cold hands pulling your panties to the side and circling your entrance as he pushed them in roughly. Becoming increasingly wet, you moaned at the curl of his fingers and the rubbing on your clit which seemed to make it harder for you to focus by the second. Jeff curled his fingers, a gasp escaping your lips with each motion. He moved his lips down your neck, pressing his teeth against your shoulder and biting down hard. You yelped out, hand shooting back to grip Jeff by the hair as he lapped at the blood rolling down your shoulder. “Fuck y- you…” You groaned, and Jeff just laughed. “Don’t worry babe we’re getting there.” 

As you could feel your clit begin to pulse, whimpers escaped your lips quietly, but Jeff took notice. “Ah, ah, ah not so fast…” He removed his hands from your core, your back arching in desperation at the lack of contact. Jeff gripped you tightly and spun you around, forcing you down to your knees in the cramped shower. Water hit the back of your head, soaking your hair. You looked up, meeting Jeff’s gaze with your wide eyes, mascara slowly staining your cheeks. For a split second, Jeff could feel his heart pang. He thought you looked hot as fuck. Wet hair, mascara running down your puffy cheeks, and your bra and panties were practically see-through now. He felt his dick twitch in his soaked jeans, aching to be let out and slap that pretty face of yours. Jeff reached to pull off his hoodie, his bare chest littered with scars and the piercing in his right nipple catching you off guard. He began to quickly undo his belt and jeans, pumping his cock slowly as he looked at you in your pretty face.

“I think I like you in this position the best. You look comfortable.” He chuckled, watching as you eyed his cock with hunger. “Go on…” He cooed, letting go of his cock, it twitching freely in anticipation. You reached up and grasped the length in your hand roughly, chastely jerking him off. You glared into his eyes, pumping your hand with a harsh while his cock pulses and leaks in your hand. It’s more rough than it is good, but Jeffrey can do nothing but breathe roughly through gritted teeth. “This is what you want, huh? You’re fucking disgusting,” you spit, gripping tighter. Jeff chuckles, his breath catching as you begin to circle the head of his cock. You open your mouth, leaning in to lick a long stripe up the underside of his length. He moans quietly, gripping the wall next to him as he watches your other hand slowly reach down to begin circling your clit. He smiles, closing his eyes sharply when you take the head of his cock in your mouth. He reaches up, placing both hands on each side of your head as he slowly presses your head further down. You place your hands on his thighs, bracing yourself against the strain of taking him all in.

He begins to bob you on his length, resurrecting the events from last night as you stare into his eyes. He can still see your fingers circling your clit, little moans and whimpers vibrating on his cock nestled so sweetly in your warm mouth.

“God, your mouth…” He sighs, pressing down extra long to feel your throat constrict around him. Satisfied, he pulls you off of his length, a confused expression crossing your face as he lifts you back onto your feet. He smiles, “Oh, don’t look so sad babe. More to come I promise you.” Turning off the faucet, Jeffrey pulls you into your bedroom, flinging you onto the bed before climbing on top of you. He straddles you, reaching under you to unclip your bra and pull it off of your chest. “Oh, I missed these.” He sighs, taking them into his hands and massaging the mounds. You groan, back trying to arch but unable to under the weight. Jeffrey slides off of you, positioning himself between your legs as he hooks his fingers under your soaked panty line. He pulls them down slowly, tossing them onto the floor before riding of his jeans and boxers. He pulls your legs down to meet him, each leg resting on his thighs before he leans over you pressing your bodies together.

“I kinda like it when you don’t fight..” He grins, kissing along your jawline and the corners of your mouth. You place your hands on his shoulders, feeling his muscles flex. “Shut up…” You groan, meeting his lips as they press against yours, his chapped lips rubbing roughly against yours. He slides his tongue in, engulfing your entire mouth as you groan. Groping your tit, he pinches at your nipple, making you hiss. You grow impatient, arching your crotch up to rub against his length, making him moan roughly into your mouth. He lets off, snaking his hand down to your entrance and slowly rubbing around your folds. “What? Tell me what you need babe.” He smiles with a grin full of shit. You roll your eyes, taking a fist full of his hair and pulling back sharply. You spit into your hand, reaching down to rub the head of his cock. “I need you to get over yourself and fuck me already.” You growl, releasing his hair. He grits his teeth, hooking his hands under your knees and pushing back, spreading you open. He pumps his cock quickly, lining the head up with your entrance before slowly pushing the tip inside.

You gasp loudly, the slight stretch leaving you to arch your back off the bed. Jeff groans, slowly sliding himself in as he licks his thumb and begins to circle your clit. Eventually, he bottoms out, holding himself and you still as he lets you adjust to the size of him. You’re squirming, hands gripping the bedsheets or his shoulders as you attempt to ground yourself. The stretch inside of you feels so good, his tip pressing deeply inside of you as you moan your contempt. Jeff’s hips begin to grind upwards, slightly pulling out before nudging his way back in. Your hips begin to slowly move with him, an eventual rhythm beginning as he begins to pull out of you and slam back inside. “Fu- fuck [Y/N]... God..” He moans, leaning forward to place his hands on each side of your head. You stutter, looking him in the eyes as he moans your name so sweetly. “Name… shit- I don’t know yo- your name…” You hiss, gripping your hands onto his biceps and clawing into them. Jeff begins to move quicker, his thrusts causing your skin to slap against each other lewdly. “Je- Jeffrey.. Jeff, fuck! Shit babe… you’re milking me…” He groans, pulling all the way out to the head before slamming back inside, a jolt of pleasure running through you.

Before you know it, you can feel the all-too-familiar knot strain in your core, white heat flooding you. You moan out, back arching roughly as your eyes begin to roll. You pulse around his cock, clenching his arms tightly as he grounds into the crook of your neck. As you come down from your high, Jeffrey slides out of you, flipping you onto your stomach and pushing your lower back down causing you to arch onto him. “So pretty, fuck babe..” He smiles, positioning his cock back at your entrance before slamming into you again, this time harbouring a quicker pace. You yell out, clawing at the bed as your sensitivity becomes too much for you. “Oh god, no-” You grip the sheets tightly, pulling yourself away from Jeffrey’s abusive grip and pace. You weakly pull away from him, your overstimulated pussy clenching and twitching. Jeffrey chuckles, gripping you tightly by your hips and pulling you back to him, pushing his cock back into your soaked hole as he begins to quickly fuck into you again. “Don’t run away… I know you can take it,” He wraps his arms around your torso, pulling you up so your back is pressed against his chest. “Come on, just give me one more…” He sighs, fucking up into you sharply as your eyes begin to prick with tears.

Your jaw hangs loosely open as Jeff abuses your pussy, slamming into you so deep you feel him press against your g-spot repetitively. “Jeff- please..” You hiss, his hand reaching down and pressing against your clit, lazily circling. He buries his face in the crook of your neck, licking at his bite mark from earlier and sucking on the raw skin. You feel him slowing down, his thrusts becoming sloppy as he moans and whines in your ear. He holds you close to him as he nibbles on your neck.

“Close…” He groans, clenching your skin tightly in his hands. You can feel your release building, his fingers massaging your clit in time with his sloppy thrusts. You reach back, gripping his hair tightly and tugging it so he looks up at you. You press your lips against him,     slipping your tongue into his mouth as he pumps inside of you harshly gripping your skin hard enough to create bruises as he spills his seed inside of you. You moan loudly into his mouth, eyes rolling as you feel your orgasm wash over you. He holds you there for a couple more seconds, lips still locked with yours as he groans deeply. You fall forward, landing on the soft pillow in front of you as Jeff slowly pulls out of you.

He smiles, his cum leaking out of your hole and onto the sheets below you. 

He falls beside you, breathing heavily as you gaze at him. Your sweaty body huddles up against him, his arm falling lazily over your waist and scooping you into him. 

Your hatred for him subsides as you cuddle into his chest, eyes growing heavy and fluttering shut. Jeff hears your soft breathing, the way you relax against him. He grins to himself, pulling the sheets over the two of you. He enjoys how relaxed this is.

But he’ll be gone by sunrise.

Chapter 3 is here !

Comments and reblogs are appreciated ! 𐚁₊⊹

[i-tripped-on-a-rock]

more low effort art of Alejandro and Noah!! I love them sm,,,, (I actually don’t like this drawing as much but it’s not horrible so I thought I would post it)

Some more of the fic out of context:

“The challenge begins in ten minutes! You kids have fun, I’ve got places to be!” Chris says into his large megaphone as the helicopter begins to take off. Noah rolls his eyes and hugs his arms closer to his chest. Cold and angry is never a good combination. Next to him, Alejandro scoffs quietly. Noah glances over at the taller teen, eyes still obscured by his sunglasses. Alejandro’s mask of “calm, kind, and flirtatious” is no where to be seen. The rest of the contestants are further away, and he hasn’t noticed Noah’s eyes on him yet.

“¿Qué ‘lugares’? ¿Una residencia de ancianos?” Alejandro mutters. He clearly didn’t mean for Noah to hear what he said given how quietly he spoke, and it took all of Noah’s self control to not burst out in startled laughter. He bites his bottom lip to suppress a laugh. His Spanish isn’t great-he’s barely conversational- but he understood enough. “What ‘places’? A retirement/nursing home?”

There was something about the way he said it that set Noah off. Alejandro had this air of irritation to him that Noah sees every morning when he looks in the mirror. He’d never seen the teen more unhappy to be here than in this exact moment, and it only made it more funny to him.

Every once in a while, Alejandro’s mask would slip up and Noah would get to see through his facade, even if it was just for a split second. He would make some sarcastic or mean comment, or just glare at a contestant. The mask was never down for more than a moment, but Noah noticed. Alejandro… he wasn’t that bad in those moments, if Noah was being completely honest with himself. The mask would slide right on the moment he remembers there’s people around, or when someone talks to him. It was like whiplash, despite how minor the changes were. It was almost impressive how much of a difference a few relaxed facial muscles and a charming smile could make.

Noah realizes he failed to suppress a snort at Alejandro’s comment when the other teen turns to look at him. Noah freezes like a fever in headlights as Alejandro stares at him. What surprises him the most, however, is that despite Alejandro realizing someone heard him, he hadn’t tried to hide behind his facade again. That irritating smile that Noah hates so much isn’t anywhere to be seen. Alejandro looked like he was silently speedrunning the 5 stages of grief before finally landing on confusion. It wasn’t until Alejandro began to speak that Noah remembers that he’s not supposed to know Spanish.

“Do you-“

“Sorry! I, um-.” Noah blurts out, frantically searching for an excuse and praying to any god that’s listening that his sunglasses are obscuring enough of his face to hide his panic, “I. I sneeze weird. I have mild anemia and get cold easily, and it’s already cold as hell here.”

Not a complete lie- he does mild anemia- but he’s basically rambling. Before Alejandro has the time to doubt or question him, Heather yells out to them.

“You two losers better get your asses over here! I will not have my win be delayed!” She’s stood further away from them with the rest of the contestants a bit away, stood in front of the beginning of the next challenge. Noah gladly latches on to the chance to switch topics

“Careful with all the cursing on camera, Heather! We wouldn’t want Chris to chop off all your hair again!” Noah calls back has he begins his trudge though the snow towards the challenge. He avoids Alejandro’s stare as he walks past and hopes he won’t push the issue. It’s too early into the game to be making mistakes, especially when it involves his biggest threat.

[ellana-ravenwood]

You idiot ! - Batfam x fem!reader

Synopsis : It is rare, for you to be genuinely mad at your family. Extremely rare. But when they put their life in danger to save yours, you cannot help but give them a good ol’ scolding. 

Bonus story. I’m planning on writing and posting another one before I go on my honeymoon next Saturday, this is just something short I suddenly wanted to write. A few snippets of “that time your husband/kids put themselves in great danger to save you”, and I hope you’ll like it : 

Please, do not repost my stories anywhere else, under any other form. Do not translate and then repost them either. Thank you.

My masterlists : @ella-ravenwood-archives​

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                                           ************

Bruce

“YOU ABSOLUTE IDIOT !!” is not what Bruce expected to hear from you, after he just saved your life. 

And yet here you were, punching at his chest, tears in your eyes, mad as hell. 

“How dare ?! How dare you throw your life away like that ? Did you stop a minute to think about how I’d feel ? Do you think I want to watch you die for me ?? You idiot, you damn freaking IDIOT !!” 

Each words were punctuated by a punch to his chest, expressing your frustration to its fullest. 

You couldn’t help it. Your emotions entirely took control. There was no “trying to calm down”, because-because-if you had lost him...

How dare. How dare he ?! 

“You don’t just jump in front of me like that, you idiot ! What if the bullet had touched you more badly ?? What if you had died ? There ? Right in front of me ?”

Bruce didn’t know what to say. He reacted before he could think. He saw you in danger, about to be shot by that thug, and jumped in front of you, shielding you with his body. 

Fortunately, the thug missed, and only grazed Bruce’s shoulder. It didn’t take him long to take care of the criminal, and coming to check on you. 

You were silent, at first. Clearly shocked. And he understood, you almost died. You were in grave danger. It would’ve shaken anyone. 

Except...Except that wasn’t the reason you were mad at him. Oh no. The reason you were mad, was exactly because he saved you. Or rather, the way he saved you. 

How selfish, to sacrifice his life to save yours. Because if he was gone...if he was gone...

You didn’t want to live in a World without him in it. Not anymore. And yes, you understood why he jumped in to save you, regardless of his safety. But it didn’t make you any less mad at him. 

“What were you thinking, shielding me like that ?? What if I had felt you die in my arm ? What if I- What if I-that would’ve been horrible...”

To be honest, Bruce didn’t think of the aftermath of it all. He gladly jumped in front of you so you could survive, and didn’t think further than that. 

But now that he had time to think, he realized : yes. How horrible it would be, to be the reason the love of your life died. 

Bruce couldn’t even imagine it. He already felt so guilty about his parents’ death, even if he now knew he wasn’t to blame. So if he was the reason you would die ? 

His arms closed themselves around your frame, holding you close to his chest, where his heart was beating (so you would know he was still here, with you). You resisted a bit, at first, still telling him how much of an “idiot” he was, but then you yielded and fell into his embrace. 

Bruce hadn’t realized, in the moment, that his action of saving you could’ve devastated you. 

“How could I ever heal, knowing I’m the cause of your death ?” You whispered, exhausted now. Crying was tiring. 

He held you, close, and didn’t let go up until you finally calmed down. 

To him, your anger was justified. Because if the situation was reversed, he would’ve never forgiven you for leaving him all alone.

He knew for a fact, that he couldn’t stand back up after losing you. He would continue on living, yes, but as a shell of a human being. Carrying out his “justice” mission, soulless, mechanical, shut away from all feelings. 

Without you, he would never be whole again. He knew that. And yet, he almost did that to you. Because he couldn’t bear to live without you, he almost died himself to save you ? 

He understood your anger. He did. Because he knew the depth of his own love for you, he knew how precious your life was for him. He knew you were the love of his life. That’s why he was holding onto you so dearly now, why he apologized, as you weeped in his arms. Crying from relief, and from the very idea that he could be ripped away from you, just like that. Right in front of you. 

Yes. Bruce knew why you reacted that way. Knew how you felt, and knew his own feelings were even grander. And that’s why-

That’s why he couldn’t promise that he would never do it again. 

Dick 

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING !!??” 

Dick was stunned. This was the first time you ever yelled at him. Not even when he had his fit of anger, when he was almost mean to you because of his pain, or when he did some bad things, did you ever get mad at him. 

He wasn’t used to it. He always took the fact that you were nice, gentle, and that you’d bear any of his bad mood, that he was truly and utterly stunned. 

“How could you be so reckless ? Richard, how could you do this ?!” 

You called him “Richard”. You never called him “Richard” before. It was yet another proof, that you were truly mad at him. 

Dick Grayson, recently adopted into the Wayne family. Officialy yours and Bruce’s son. 9 years old. Not supposed to be on patrol yet. Still jumped head first into danger when he saw your life was at risk. 

It was one of those boring galas he hated. Everything went by so quickly. Armed men entered, and you immediately were a prime target. 

Things got out of hand too fast, and you were about to be shot when-

Dick swung from a low hanging chandelier, and kicked the man with the gun, almost getting shot himself in the process. After that, Bruce came to the rescue, later saying something like : “I took jujitsu in high school” to explain how fast he got rid of the bandits (interesting, how gothamites would just drink his every words without ever suspecting him to be Batman...What, elegant, delicate, warm, extroverted and handsome Bruce Wayne ? Being the Batman ? Inconceivable !). 

Everyone praised your little one for his braveness. Everyone...but you. 

Thankfully, people quickly shifted away, attracted to your husband like bees to a fresh flower. He did it on purpose, of course. Got their attention on him, like he was so skilled to do, so you could have your moment with your son. 

He knew it was coming. 

When he saw little Dickie jump in there, his heart stopped. He was near you fast, but not fast enough to stop his son. Bruce saw his life flash before his eyes, fearing he would see his little kid get badly hurt, or worst. 

But the boy was not to be underestimated, and he did indeed take his training seriously. Still. He was really afraid. Now, he managed to release his fear by beating those guys who dared threaten his family. But you ? Oh boy, you- 

“What were you thinking Dick ? Mmm ? You could’ve been seriously hurt ! Don’t ever do that again !” 

You were holding him by the shoulders, to make sure he was looking at you in the eye. And you were mad, oh so mad. He wasn’t used to it. 

“But I- I don’t want to- I can’t-I...I can’t lose another family.”

He managed to say, before...

Before bursting into tears. 

And that stopped your rant right away.  

You froze, his tears making you feel distressed. What were you doing ? Yelling at your son like that ? 

It was wrong. Of course, your feelings poured out all at once after you got so scared for your baby’s life, but it was still wrong. 

Dick was only 9 years old. He saw you were in danger, and he jumped in. 

He already witnessed once his family dying in front of his eyes, without him being able to do anything...Of course, he wouldn’t let it happen twice. 

He was crying heavy tears now, trying to tell you, to explain to you he couldn’t bear to lose another family. He couldn’t. 

He uttered a few words, there and there, talking about how he didn’t want to, couldn’t, lose you, and it broke your heart. 

How dare you, scream at such a small boy ?

You quickly took him into your arms, and he held onto you for dear life, burying his face into your shoulder. You picked him up, as Bruce shifted the crowd away from you two. You saw the worry in his eyes as he saw you walking away with Dick in your arms. Was the boy hurt ? 

Only you, could’ve discern his worry. With your own eyes, you reassured him. Your son was fine. But he needed his parents. 

He needed to know neither you, nor Bruce, were going anywhere. 

You rushed outside, before anyone could notice your crying son, protecting him in your arms (oh, the memories of how tiny Dicky used to be, he had a sudden growth spurt only around 16 !). Bruce quickly followed, and Alfred, as usual, was ready to leave before Bruce even shut his door. 

You went home, and didn’t leave Dick’s side up until he finally fell asleep. And even then, you stayed near him, holding his hand, so he could feel you were still here. Not letting go. Never letting him go. 

So he would know. So he would know that he didn’t have to put his life in danger so he wouldn’t lose you. So he would know, that no matter what, you would always be there. 

Jason

“Don’t make me live through that ever again, Jason. Don’t you dare ! What do you think I’ll feel, knowing I am the cause of your death ? Knowing that if I hadn’t been there, you would’ve survived ?? How can I ever heal from not only losing you, but knowing it’s because of me ??”

Jason didn’t know what to say. Didn’t know how to react. 

“Mom, it wasn't because of-”

“Don’t do that ever again !” 

He couldn’t find the right words. He just couldn’t. 

When he died, after the Joker killed him, he came back to life feeling so angry. Angry that nobody seemed to care enough to kill that fucking clown ! Angry that his parents didn’t do it for him !! 

Angry. So angry. 

And now, after he started to forgive you and Bruce, he realized...

He realized that, of course, you cared. 

You cared so much in fact, that both you and his father felt guilty. Felt like you had killed your son. 

And that’s why right now, as he jumped in front of you to save you from imminent danger, you were such a mess. 

Tears ran down your face, and you were angry. So angry. 

Angry because, how dare he throw his life away ? After all he went through ? 

“You deserve peace, and happiness. You deserve to have a long life, full of joy. So don’t- Don’t do that ever again !”

Jason felt his throat clench. The love in your words, how much you cared for him, your wish for him to simply be happy...It was gut wrenching. 

He wasn’t angry anymore. He came to understand his father’s vision, and to know why you didn’t kill the Joker either. He came to see things your way. He came to realize that-

That both you and Bruce loved him so much, that it almost shattered your lives, when he died. 

That you almost crumbled, unable to ever stand back on your feet again. 

That the pain was so grand, you barely made it. 

You both loved him. 

You loved him so much, it hurt sometimes. And through your words, Jason felt that. That love he thought you didn’t have for him. 

It was there. It had always been there. 

He wasn’t angry anymore. Because know, he knew. He knew. 

“What is the point of living, if my baby dies before me ?” You asked, your voice cracking on the last words. 

Jason felt his heart breaking for you, and made a promise to himself. Never. Never again will he be the reason you felt that way. Never again will he make you cry. Never. 

He sat next to you, and gave you a hug. You returned it, of course. And he allowed you to cry (out of relief, mainly), staying with you until you calmed down. 

He would feel broken, if you ever died. He knew he would. 

And the thought that you would feel the same way, was both sad, yet comforting. 

He was loved. He was so loved. 

Tim

Tim had the “savior’s complex”, for sure. 

The first time he was unable to solve a case fast enough, and an innocent person ended up dying, he blamed himself for weeks. Months. Hell, you were pretty sure he remember that first case, and often used it as a driving force to do better. 

Tim always pushed himself to his limits, just so he could save people. Ever since he was a child, he had been like that. That’s why he sought Bruce in the first place, he so dearly wanted to help ! 

Yes. Tim had always been the one who needed to save others. 

And so, when he saw you, his mom, in danger, he didn’t think twice. 

He jumped into action, and save you, to the detriment of his own safety. That’s what he was supposed to do, right ? Especially when it was his mom ! 

His bruises and cuts didn’t bother him, all he cared about was that you were ok. Safe and sound. And when you said : “WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU’RE DOING ?!”, as you started to get mad at him, he only said : 

“I saved you. That’s what I do. That’s what-”

You cut him off, saying : 

"YOU ARE A CHILD, TIM !! There is no reason in this world that justifies your sacrifice to save me !!” 

Silence. 

A short one. 

He’s never seen you so angry. 

Tim looks at you, and slowly, he face falls. His lips turns down. Tears are gathering in his eyes. 

For once, he cannot control his emotions. He cannot do that thing he always does during tough moments, when he detaches himself from his feelings (like father, like son ?). 

He cannot. 

“I’m sorry mom. I just-I didn’t-”

He doesn’t have to finish his sentence. You know. 

You know. 

Because you felt the same. One person is missing, and the whole world is empty. 

He didn’t want to lose you, is what he wanted to say. But he couldn’t, overwhelmed by his feelings. Those feelings he so carefully tried to keep in control at all times. All pouring out at once. 

He had been so scared, so scared ! What if he couldn’t make it in time ? What if you died right in front of his eyes ? 

For once, he acted without thinking. He jumped in there, with only one plan : saving you. And that’s what he did, and not even getting too hurt in the process. Phew. 

But you were mad. You were mad at him, because you were scared to. 

What if you had seen him die right in front of you ? Your own son ? Your baby ?

And Tim let it all go. All his emotions. 

You were next to him in an instant, taking him into your arms, drawing soothing circles on his back. 

Tim felt so vulnerable, and for once, he didn’t mind. On the contrary. Because he felt so relieved. 

You were ok. You were ok. 

That’s all that mattered, or so he thought...It only mattered because him too, was ok. One day, he would come to understand that. 

But for now, all he needed, was to let his emotions run free, and for his mom to be there, and reassure him that, yes. You were still here. 

And you always would be, even when he was acting like a reckless idiot. 

Cassandra

She didn’t back down. She didn’t apologize. In fact, she stood there, facing you, proud as a hawk. And then she frowned. 

She was the only one that never backed down in such a situation. On the contrary, she said, looking at you right in the eye : 

“If I had to do it again, I would !” 

Such strength, in those words. 

She was telling you that you had no right to be angry, because given the chance, you would’ve done the same (which was true). Could you really blame her for not thinking of herself, when you were in danger ?? 

You were her mom. 

She only had one mom. 

She couldn’t bear to lose her. 

No. Absolutely not. 

“If I had to do it again, I would !”

She would do it for her dad, for her brothers, for her friends...

Too long, was Cass used for evil. By those who called themselves “parents”, whose only goal were to fabricate the perfect human weapon. 

She was used to hurt so many, and never really had a choice in the matter...

So if now, she chose to sacrifice herself so that only one of her loved one could survive...She would. 

It was her choice. HERS. And nothing you could tell her would change her mind. You knew that. You knew and, it was as if your anger instantly disappeared. 

Usually, it would disappear after a few admonitions, after you yelled at them enough. But this time, she didn’t even let you start. Didn’t even let you question her actions. 

She would not let you die, period. If it meant for her life to end, then so be it. 

“If I had to do it again, I would !” 

It was her choice. Hers. 

Her mom’s life was worth any sacrifice. Including the ultimate one, her own life. 

“Mom.” 

Mom...You skipped right above the “anger” part of the aftermath of them putting themselves in danger for you, and went to the “my babies” part, during which you would hold onto them, glad they were still alive. 

Cass gave your hug back, fiercely, decisively. 

“If I had to do it again, I would !” 

Never again, would she hurt someone else. Never again, would she stand by doing nothing.

She had found a family, she would never let any of you go. 

And she’d rather die, before putting herself in safety first in a situation during which she could save you. 

Damian

Damian woke up, and he was at Wayne Manor, in one of the rooms specifically made for medical attentions that they set up. Leslie Thompkins would come take care of you guys, in those rooms with all the materials you could find in a proper hospital. 

Having your own at home hospital made it easier to hide certain wounds your family would get because of their “vigilante’s activities”. It came in handy, for sure. 

Like today, as Damian needed urgent care after he rushed to save you, and took the brunt of the blow for you. 

Damian woke up. First, one eye, finding it difficult to adjust to the bright white lights. And then, the second eye, finally focusing on his surroundings. 

And here you were, sat in an armchair next to his bed, your arms in a cast. 

At first, your youngest son panicked. No ! You were hurt ! 

But quickly, he realized you had no other wound but your broken arm, and he relaxed a bit, slowly realizing that...his entire body hurt. 

Ah. Yes. He’s the one who jumped in front of you, and got most of the impact. Without thinking, just seeing his mom in danger, he took the matter in hands and...The rest was foggy. 

He couldn’t really remember much, except you gathering his body against you, and screaming that you needed help. 

Everything went to black, and he woke up in that “hospital” bed. And you were safe. That was all he needed to know.

“Boy, you’re in trouble. Also, I’m glad you’re safe.” 

Damian turned his head to the side and, ah, his father was here too. He was smiling at him, and added : 

“You’re lucky you’re mom was exhausted, and is fast asleep. Or that would’ve been a wake up call you’d remember.” 

His mind still a little hazy, Damian didn’t understand right away. 

“Are you okay ?” Bruce asked, and his son nodded, before saying : 

“What do you mean, wake up call ?” 

Your husband was so relieved that your son was ok, he sighed, fell back in his chair, and smiled, before saying :

“Well, I’m 100% sure she’s going to wake up and get very mad at you for putting your life in danger.” 

“But I-I saved her life ?”

“And you almost lost yours.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Try to think of the same situation, but reversed. How would you feel ?” 

Damian’s mind was clearing itself a bit, after a good night’s sleep and care. What if the situation was reverse ? 

“I would be mad.” he answered, and ah. Ah yes. Of course. So his mom had every right to get mad at him for being so reckless, right ? 

“But, dad...”

It was rare, for Damian to call him “dad”. He would do it only during certain times, usually when he was particularly tired, needed reassurance, or something like that. 

“I couldn’t- I don’t think I’d want to- I wouldn’t want to live in a World in which she’s not in anymore.” 

Simple words. Born from that deep feeling that Damian truly understood only recently...

Love. 

He loved his mom. He didn’t want her to die. And so he didn’t think, and saved her, even if it meant putting his own life in danger. 

“Is it wrong ?” 

He asked, and the innocence of his words touched Bruce’s heart, moved him, even. Was it wrong, to love someone so much you would be willing to die for them, even if it meant they’d have to continue on living alone ?

Bruce smiled. Of a most tender smile, only his family ever saw on his face. He smiled, and said : 

“No son. No, it’s not wrong at all.” 

For some reason, Damian felt lighter. Felt good. Nice and warm. Felt like-

You stirred in your armchair, and one of your eyes opened. In an instant, you sat up and-

“Oh dear...”

Bruce said (in a very Alfred way, might I add...force of habits), and he stood up, ruffled affectionately his son’s hair, before living whispering : “You’re on your own for that one. Rite of passage, some would call it.” 

Damian watched as his father left, and didn’t have time to react as the storm of your wrath suddenly fell on him. 

But he knew. Your son knew, that you weren’t actually angry. That you had been so afraid for him. That you couldn’t bear to be the cause of his demise. That-

That you loved him, as simple as that. And so he took the onslaught of your sermon, “like a champ”. 

Because the only reason you reacted that way, was because indeed...

You loved him. You loved him so much. 

Duke

"You absolute idiot !!” You yell, as you rush towards the newest addition to your little family. Towards the boy you now viewed as your son. 

“I knew I would survive. I have powers, you know, that allow me to see a little in the future.” This was partly true, partly a lie. Yes, he had such powers, but it only showed him possibilities of events. No certainty. A slight change of a millimeter to the left, or a breath taken a millisecond too late, and it could alter his visions. 

The truth was, Duke didn’t think. He saw you in danger, he pushed you out of the way and took your place. As simple as that. 

Duke couldn’t bear to see another member of his family get hurt while he couldn’t do anything, like it happened with his parents and the Joker. 

He swore to himself he would never be powerless anymore. Maybe that’s how his meta human powers started to appear ? Him finally making that decision to never let anyone get hurt in front of him again ? Maybe. Who knows.

What was known though, is that he wasn’t going to stay put as he saw danger fly right to you. He knew that, if that piece of concrete fell on you, you would’ve died. He knew. 

And with his costume, there was a chance he could take it. Sure, most his bones would be shattered. But he would survive. After all, Bruce and Lucious Fox spend a lot of time working on those suits, to make them almost indestructible (regardless of the state of the person in it). 

“THAT IS NO REASON ! I forbid you, you hear ? I forbid you from doing something like that ever again !” 

They told him that this day would come. That you’d get mad at him for putting his life “needlessly” in danger. He knew, because they told him, that he shouldn’t take it too personally. 

That you would get mad, because you were so afraid for him that your brain couldn’t see reason anymore. You were so afraid, and at the same time relieved he was still alive, that processing your emotion was too hard and you just exploded. 

Yes. Duke, thanks to the experience of the rest of his family, knew what was coming. And so he let it happen. He took your anger. Your worries. Everything. 

He only winced once you calmed down, and hugged him a little too tight, as Bruce and a medical team were coming to take care of his broken bones...

That (those) time(s) you did it. 

"MOM !!”

You weren’t sure who yelled it, your mind hazy with pain. You knew it was one of your baby, though.

Aah. “Baby”. You only thought of them as “your babies” when you felt extra sentimental. When you suddenly just wanted to squish them in your arms, words being unable to express how much you loved them. 

And the gods only knew how much you did love them. 

Enough to throw your life away for them. Enough to jump in the middle of danger, if only to save their lives. 

How ironic, really. How many times did you yell at them because they did that exact same thing ? Too many times to count, now. 

You would get so mad, when they put themselves in arms’ way just to save you. And what did you do now ? The exact same thing. 

You knew that it was quite a selfish act. That it was a way to not be the one who remained. Because everyone knew...everyone knew those “left behind”, left alive, were the ones to feel sorry for the most. 

Once you were gone, you were gone. Either you went to an afterlife, either it was just the end, or maybe you could reincarnate...But there would be no pain, anymore. 

The same couldn’t be said about those you would leave behind. 

The pain of losing a member of your family, one of your loved one...it was unbearable. It almost drove you mad a few times. When Jason and Damian died. When you thought Tim, Dick or even Bruce died. When-

Yes. You knew the pain. And yet, you would inflict it one someone you loved, just to save them. Knowing they were safe was enough. It was...Enough ?

No. The truth was, you didn’t want to feel the pain. Or your body just moved on its own when you saw the person you loved in danger. 

You knew, it wasn’t something you could fully control. You knew. 

Yet, you always got mad at them when they did it. And you still did it yourself. 

“My love !” 

Ah. Bruce now. Joining your kids. 

You were just a little shook up, but you were fine. Maybe you had a few broken ribs, and a concussion as you got knocked down, but you would definitely survive. 

Years of being a “vigilante”, and they knew that you were going to be ok. 

And oh boy, that meant...

That meant that you were in trouble. 

One by one, they threw your own words back at you. “How dare you ??” “How do you think I could live with the fact I’m the reason you died ??”, “Selfish !”, “Don’t you dare do that again !”, “YOU ABSOLUTE IDIOT !!” 

It was ironic, really. And a little funny...

“Ah, now you know. You know how it feels.” 

Yes. Yes, now they knew. Would that stop them to, if given the chance, jump in and save you, completely disregarding their own safety ? Probably not. 

None of you wanted to live in a world where a part of your heart would be missing. So yes, given the chance, you would all take that “selfish” decision to die for those you loved. 

Because sometimes, only one person is missing, and the whole world seems depopulated. You were a bunch of humans, but not that strong. 

Bonus : Clark

To Clark, the Waynes were special. 

Family. 

You and Bruce were his best friends. The kids were like his little nephews and niece. Alfred, was like a surrogate uncle to him, almost another father figure, at times. Even Ace, the family dog, was important, as he was one of Krypto’s (aka “his baby”) very first friend (besides himself). 

So when he saw you right in the middle of danger, he acted. And that’s how it happened. 

Kryptonite. Tearing his side. Badly. 

He would survive. After all, they didn’t call him “Superman” for nothing. But it had been close nonetheless. 

He settled you down, glad he was able to save you. Glad he brought you back to Bruce, safe and sound. He doesn’t think he could ever face his friend again, if he had arrived too late, and had to bring your dead body to him. He doesn’t think he could bear the weight of being the one who would finally crush the Batman. 

And then he fell on his knees, because that wound hurt like hell ! And to be honest, he wasn't much used to pain. 

He looked up, expecting to see relief and thankfulness on your face, only to be met with...Your glare. You were fuming. 

“YOU ABSOLUTE IDIOT !!” You screamed, and Clark was very confused. Up until he met Bruce eyes, and the Batman himself looked like he was sorry for his friend. His eyes were telling him : “Good luck.” 

Yes. Clark was confused, as Bruce and his children slowly moved away (once they made sure you were ok), and you started to sermon him on the incredible value of his life. 

Somehow, it felt both heartwarming and terrifying at the same time. 

__________________________________________________

Boom, just a little something I suddenly wanted to write :D Didn’t re-read myself as usual (or I would never post anything). I was just thinking of the cliche of someone sacrificing themselves for their loved ones, and how angry I would actually be if anyone did that because like...what do you do, knowing the person you love died for you ? How can you heal from not only losing them, but knowing you’re the cause, ya know ? And here we are haha. 

As usual, comments and reblogs are very welcomed, and I hope you liked this story :). 

[lucky-bucky-boy]

Restless Night

Pairing: MCU!Peter Parker x Reader

Summary: An impulsive phone call leads to a happy ending

Word Count: 1307

Warnings: Slight angst, smut, pet names, little to no (y/n), mentions of missions, lemme know if i missed anything  

A/N: MCU!Peter - I do plan to write something for TASM!Peter in the future but this was just easier for my brain to set up the scene. I wanted to do something different and challenged myself to write something that was more dialogue-heavy than I’ve written in a while. Not my best work, but a little smutty smut bc why not

I do not own these characters. Do NOT repost my writing and/or fics anywhere without my written permission. Reblogs are welcomed and highly appreciated!

The soft sound of the television playing a forgotten movie almost drowned out the sound of the phone ringing, tucked under a pillow and muffled. The sweet cusp of sleep was only moments away, being dragged out by the vibrating as the first call ended and a second came through. 

The near unconsciousness caused forethought to be left behind, grabbing the phone, answering the call, and putting it to your ear. A soft "hello?" was all you could muster. 

"Hey, baby."

A tsunami of emotions flooded through your body, suddenly wide awake and hyper aware of everything that was going on; The television was nearing the end of the movie you had put on, your clock reading 1:32, the lights from the cars passing by casting various dancing shadows around your room.  

"I've missed you, baby." 

His voice was sweet, almost addictive and something you hadn't realized was a need buried deep inside you. You shuffled, forcing yourself up and sitting against the squishmallow he'd won for you on your first time, something you hadn't been able to get rid of. 

"Hi, Peter," you voice was quiet, sleep still etched between the syllables. There was a beat of silence between the two of you, "Peter, why'd you call? It's been 10 months."

Peter let out a soft sigh, you could hear him shuffling around. "Missing you really bad tonight, love. M' on a mission," there was another sigh, "I almost got hurt, like really hurt. Thankfully Bucky was there. All I could think about was you."

"Peter!" You voice was now much louder, instantly filled with worry, "Don't go and get yourself ki-"

He cut you off, "I wasn't tryna get hurt, baby. We got ambushed. We had just went in there for me to copy some information onto a drive. Ended up being some rogue Hydra agents, a leg of them we didn't even know existed." Peter was rambling and he knew it, he was starting to think the reason he called was a bad one. 

You sighed, body riddled with a million different emotions, "Pete, why'd you call me?"

"I miss you," his words had a slight whine to them, "I wanna touch you so badly, wanna hold you and kiss you."

If he was there you would have undoubtedly melted into him. The breakup was mutual, but difficult nonetheless. Between trying to focus on your career and all of the responsibilities Peter had, it was near impossible to maintain a relationship - there was no time for date nights or dinner, no time to sit and reminisce and talk about the future. For months, the only time spent together was sleeping in the same bed, which was almost always disrupted by some responsibility. 

You two loved each other, loved each other more than yourselves most days. But it had become too taxing and tiring, the constant worrying, near lack of support because attention was needed elsewhere. So, after a long, tearful date night gone wrong, the two of you agreed to break up, maybe try again when there were less things counting on you both. 

Peter regretted it immediately, but he had wanted to give you space, give you time to flourish and not worry about him. He'd asked M.J. and Ned all the time what you had been up to, he would check your Instagram and Snapchat to see the things you were posting and proud of. He did whatever he could to support you from afar. 

But tonight, tonight he dared to be selfish, he needed to be selfish. Deep down he knew it was wrong, calling you up in the middle of the night because the adrenaline was still pumping through his veins and all he wanted was to be with you. 

"I miss you too, Pete." Your voice was soft again, it always was in moments like this. Where the intimacy lay just behind every fiber in your body. 

He hummed, starting to get antsy as he continued to try to figure out how to say what he wanted. "Baby, can you do me a favor?"

"What is it, Pete?" You almost hated how quickly you answered, how eager you were. 

"Touch yourself, sweetheart. I wanna hear you touch yourself."

The gasp that left you was audible. Peter was never incredibly bold, never the type to initiate unless you two were definitely alone. Even in those moments, it was always sweet and loving. But this, Peter calling in the middle of the night, a desperate whine to his words and an insane neediness that make his tone demanding. 

“Baby, if you don’t want to, you can just hang up. I won’t be upset with you.” You could hear some ruffling and the sound of metal hitting the floor. “I just miss the pretty sounds you make, miss the way your face scrunches up, miss the feeling of your skin against mine.”

This wasn’t a command you were going to disobey. He was still rambling, your mind only half paying attention to the honey-like words he was saying. “Do you want me to use my hand or one of my toys?”

He paused for a moment and you could practically hear the smile spread across his lips. “Use your hand, sweetheart. Run you hands across your body like I would.”

You could hear the moment Peter wrapped his hand around himself, a small groan leaving his lips. You listened to him, it being nearly impossible not to. "Wish you were here, Petey," the words slipped out of you as your fingers danced across your skin, sending goosebumps in their wake. 

Your eyes were pinched shut, listening to every whimper and sigh the came through your phone, doing your best to pretend your own touch was his. "Me too, God, me too. Miss kissing your skin, hearing your little gasps when I nip."

"Peter," you couldn't help but whimper, forgoing anymore teasing and quickly giving your clit the much needed attention. It never took long with Peter for you to become needy and impatient, let alone when it had been almost a year since you heard the noises he was making, "I'm not gonna last long, want you so badly," your words were gasped out between soft moans, instant pleasure radiating from your core already making your body warm.

"Me neither, baby," there was a low groan that slipped from him, strangled as he attempted to hold himself together. With every sound you made, he nearly felt like he was in a dream. But he knew this was real, his subconscious hyper aware of the thin walls in the shitty hotel he was holed up in for the night and the super soldier who undoubtedly could hear him. 

A endless stream of "fuck"s, gasps, moans, and whimpers flooded through each phone. It only took a few more minutes before the coil burst and the warmth of your high shook through your body, thighs quaking and chest heaving. Peter followed suit, a breathy moan of your name as he spilled into his hand and all over his abdomen. 

There was a lingering silence as the  other of you recovered, both taking in what has just happened while relishing in the aftermath. Peter broke the silence first, "Need to get m'self cleaned up," he mumbled. There was another beat of silence from him, "I do really miss you."

You hummed your agreement, shifting yourself into a more comfortable position. "I do really wish you were here." 

He huffed out a small laugh, a sound that was laced with relief and contentedness. "I'll be home tomorrow at 4. I still got my key, I'll bring dinner, and we can talk. How does that sound?"

Now it was your turn to laugh, excitement filling every nerve in your body. "It sounds like a date."

[tiredfox64]

Hide and peek part 2? Pretty please?? 🥺 (btw I really love your writing style it's so unique)

Tag, You’re Mine

Prior notes: Sorry for not posting yesterday. I died because of the heat, got to talk with the Lord finally, and then he sent me back down because it wasn’t my time yet.

Pairing: Bi-Han x Afab reader

Warnings ‼️: Some days I am forced to eat food with no seasoning. That’s not a warning it’s just sad.

Oh what’s wrong? Nothing to look at today? Not at all? Is it because Bi-Han caught you? I see. Well, my dear, there’s nothing to be ashamed of. You are one of many who would do whatever to get a peek at that gorgeous, icey man. Don’t give up on the game now. He’s willing to play.

You were embarrassed that you were caught sneaking peeks at Bi-Han before. Things would have been fine if he hadn’t found you and forced you to speak. You were content with keeping your fantasies about him in your head and not make them a reality. It would have been easier than going up to him and talking. He didn’t seem like a man who did much talking.

Just because you were caught didn’t mean you would stay away from the Fire Temple forever. You still wanted to see Liu Kang. But instead of hiding and seeking, you were running away from the one you used to seek. See you pulled a sneaky on him.

Now it was Bi-Han who was looking for you. At first he thought you would still be looking at him from a distance. He would look around, acting like he doesn’t care and pretending he isn’t looking for you, only to see that you were nowhere in sight. Not a strand of your hair or the rustling of leaves to indicate you were anywhere near. That was disappointing to him. His not so secret admirer was not admiring him.

“Looking for your admirer, brother?” Kuai Liang teased his older brother. When else would he get a chance like this.

Bi-Han groaned before at his brother’s teasing, “I am not. What is taking Liu Kang so long? How long are we expected to linger?”

He tried changing the topic away from the fact that he was looking for you. He paced around while occasionally looking in the direction of your usual hiding spots. Still nothing. He was getting impatient with you. This is unlike you. He wants his shy girl back!

══💤══╡°˖✧🦊✧˖°╞══💤══

You were still around. You were just doing other things. Like right now you were organizing books inside the temple. You actually found some that you would like to read some day. But first to organize them.

Put some in that corner. Maybe some on the lower shelf. Oh this one is supposed to go on the top shelf. Just reach up and—OH MY FUCKING GOSH HE’S BACK!

Yes, when you looked up to try to put the last book on the top shelf you realized Bi-Han snuck up behind you again. He was looking down at you with that usual grumpy expression he had. And just like the last time he snuck up behind you, you let out a yelp which alerted everyone that once again he found you.

“Stop yelling!” He growled as his hands covered his ears.

“I’m sorry…” You whispered as you started to covered your face with the book.

Yup, that’s you all right. Shy as can be, unable to face Bi-Han still. Your cheeks were burning as you were unsure of what to do now. You tried to shuffle your way out but he caged you in. Your back was pressed up against the bookcase. His arms were at your side. You really have no escape unless you wanna try smacking him. I wouldn’t recommend it.

“Put that book down and look at me.” He commanded.

You slid the book down a little to show your eyes. No, no, he wants to see your whole face.

Bi-Han yanked the book out of your hands and placed it on the top shelf. There, now he can see you. He watched as your eyes shifted around. You wanted to look some place else but Bi-Han would always be at the corner of your eye. And looking forward won’t help either. Staring at people’s chests is rude.

“So…you need anything?” You asked because you legit didn’t know why he was here or what he wanted.

“Where have you been? You are clearly still around yet you purposely try to avoid me.”

He always sounds upset but this time he seemed really upset. He didn’t hate that you had a crush on him. It was cute and the shyness was a somewhat bonus. It’s not a bonus when he has a hard time trying to make you talk.

“You wanted me to come looking for you? That’s strange.” Clearly you were confused.

“Ironic that those words are coming from the woman who was constantly looking at me from a distance.” Oh he called you out.

So what now? He found you. How will this play out? Well, you really didn’t think this far ahead. I’m not even sure Bi-Han did either. You were too embarrassed to ever encounter him again. Knowing he knew you were looking at him the whole time makes you smack your forehead constantly. It was so humiliating! But you did like that you got to see his features up close. Those cheek bones oooo.

Hey! Hey! Focus on the game plan!

“Why do you even want me to come looking for you?”

You stumped him with that question. He didn’t think you would be brave enough to do that. He had no answer ready because he doesn’t know the answer to that.

The truth is he did find you and your actions to be cute. Might also be the fact that he doesn’t come across many ladies in his life nor will he give them the time of day. So in a strange way you are a little brave for pursuing him in your own way.

“I don’t need to explain myself to you. Just come with me.”

Bi-Han grabbed your wrist and started dragging you with him. Your mind goes blank as you’re unsure of what he wants you to do. He takes you into the other part of the temple where his brothers and Liu Kang are. They were waiting for him to come around so they could discuss the next mission. Liu Kang looked with great curiosity at the actions that were taking place. Bi-Han left you at the doorway and walked over to his brothers. He stared at you, waiting for you to do what you do best. Hide.

Due to habits and your nervousness you started hiding yourself near the doorway, peeking your head in so you could keep looking at Bi-Han. It was like rolling a blunt you never forget how to do it.

Now he was satisfied. He started looking at Liu Kang now, waiting impatiently for the god to talk. The god was too stunned to speak. A few blinks and now he started briefing them on the mission. Tomas leaned over to Kuai Liang to whisper something.

“That poor girl, Bi-Han won’t ever let her go now.”

“Pay attention!” Bi-Han yelled before punching Tomas at the back of the head.

You’re reminded of why you hid from him in the first place. It was his temper and cold demeanor that scared you off but not enough to be at a distance. Yet as you watched him punch his adopted brother you still can’t help but be drawn to that sexy man.

That’s exactly what he wants. He wants your admiration while also having the chance to get close to you. He likes having you as his admirer. He’ll keep you around for a while. Maybe even bring you back to the Lin Kuei Temple so you can do the same over there while he trains his clan. That will surely get you excited.

Do you think you can handle the cold?

After notes: Wish me luck since I have my asl final tonight. And if somehow y’all hated this don’t curse me tonight ｡ﾟ(ﾟ´Д｀ﾟ)ﾟ｡. Also how come i didn’t know there was a Goth/Rave color palette that is perfect for me. Alright I must mentally prepare myself. Adiós!

[readsaboutreid]

Permanent Solution (part II) | S.R.

contains: lots of discussion of suicide, other typical criminal minds violence, heavy heavy angst but a happy ending (i promise!), MORGAN GETS REDEEMED

look i'm sorry to put spencer and reader through so much pain T-T but also i wanted to use my own negative thoughts in a better way than just stewing in them so i adapted them to fit this

i also had someone request that i tag them so i guess if you'd like for me to tag you in future posts lmk and i'll add you onto a taglist! when you request just specify if you want to be tagged for a specific part 2 (or continuation of a specific story) or tagged for any future fics :)

Spencer jolted awake, the faint ringing of his alarm clock dragging him out of sleep. He sat up and rubbed his sore neck, wondering why his alarm sounded like it was in a different room. And then the memories from the previous night came rushing back to him, and he realized that it sounded that way because it was, in fact, coming from a different room. He had fallen asleep on the couch, Dr. Mewshroom taking up (Y/N)’s usual place wrapped in his arms. He checked his phone, no missed calls from her (but about 20 from Garcia, and only one voicemail, also from Garcia), and the clock on its little digital screen told him it was 6:30 AM. He got up and went into the bedroom, checking to see if maybe she had decided against waking him. Anxiety rushed through his veins when he saw the empty bed, and he called her phone again, which rang four times before going to voicemail.

“Hi, you’ve reached the voicemail of Dr. (Y/L/N), I can’t come to the phone right now but if you leave your name and number, I’ll return your call as soon as I am able. Thanks!” Beep.

He swallowed, struggling around the lump forming in his throat. He got a call from Hotch right as he started getting dressed for a day off (much earned after their last case). “I’m sorry, Reid, but I need you and (Y/L/N) here immediately. We have a new case, local, and we need all hands on deck for this one. I need you two in the briefing room in 20 minutes.” Spencer groaned internally at the prospect of back-to-back cases but confirmed that he’d be there. Then, he covered for (Y/N)’s absence. He said that she was sick and couldn’t leave the bathroom for longer than five minutes at a time and that seemed to be all the convincing Hotch would need. “Since the case is local that’s fine, she can join us when she recovers. But get here ASAP, Reid.” Click.

Spencer took a deep breath to calm the anxiety bubbling in his gut and chest. This wasn’t the first time this had happened, but it hadn’t happened since they had moved in together five months ago. Since she had stopped taking The Walk. He took a deep breath and assured himself that the chances of (Y?N) being missing were slim-to-none.

Spencer walked through the glass doors of the BAU and hurried to the round table, the last one of the team to enter. He nodded to Garcia, Prentiss (who looked like she had a very fun mystery date the previous night), Hotch, and Rossi. He pointedly ignored the greetings of both JJ and Morgan, the latter rolling his eyes slightly at the passive aggressive behavior.

“Reid, glad you could make it. Okay JJ, fill us in,” Hotch nodded to JJ, who stepped forward and placed a file in front of each of them.

"Where's (Y/N)?" Penelope asked Spencer, giving him a confused and worried look. He avoided her gaze as he muttered something about her having a stomach bug while he took his seat.

“Last night, a body turned up in the Anacostia River, near the 11th Street bridge,” JJ began as she placed files in front of each of them. Spencer’s blood ran cold, and his stomach dropped at her words. Not there, anywhere but there.

“It’s the third body they’ve found this month, and the timeframe between bodies seems to be around the same each time, one week. All the victims are female, mid-to-late 20s, and all three had a history of multiple suicide attempts," she explained, pulling up some of the crime scene photos on the projector in front of them.

“Hold up, JJ,” Morgan interjected, “if all three victims have a history of suicidal tendencies, how do we know these aren’t just run-of-the-mill suicides?”

“Each body was disposed of in a large black trash bag,” Hotch explained.

“That and they found evidence of torture as well as ligature marks on the wrist and ankle of each of the victims,” she elaborated, switching the slide to show some of the coroner’s photos. Electrical burns littered the torso of the victim on the slide, and Spencer's stomach churned at the sight. She looked so much like (Y/N) it was uncanny.

“Each victim has a similar build and they've all got the same hair cut and color,” Prentiss observed, “maybe a surrogate for the Unsub’s real target?” Please, no.

"Could be a mother or girlfriend," Rossi speculated. "Do the DC police have any idea of where he's taking his victims from, or is it just the dump site that they know? And are there any witnesses?"

"Until last night, the victims had all been taken from their homes with no witnesses on what the police assume were the same nights the previous victims' bodies had been dumped," JJ answered, "but last night he seems to have escalated and abducted someone straight from the bridge itself according to a nearby eyewitness, a man who had been out for a late night jog. They found this—" she clicked to the next slide, "at the scene, along with the victim's cell phone, both of which have been bagged as evidence and are at the local precinct."

Spencer’s world came to a crashing, burning halt. In the image on the screen was a rather generic looking, but still all too familiar, green knit cardigan and black cell phone with a cracked screen. No one else had seemed to put it together yet, except perhaps Rossi, who had shifted his gaze to Spencer.

"Do we know the identity of the most recent abductee—" Prentiss had started to ask before Spencer had to stand and run to the trash can to vomit.

"That's some stomach virus," Rossi mused, giving Spencer a concerned and knowing look.

"Reid? Are you alri—" Prentiss was cut off again, this time by Hotch.

"Prentiss, Morgan, go to the location where the bodies were found, and the most recent victim abducted. Track down the eye witness through any means possible and interview him. Rossi and JJ, you two head to the precinct. Reid, my office. Now." Hotch issued the orders with a deeper sense of urgency than usual. Spencer stood and shakily walked to Hotch's office after the rest of the team had hurried off, and as soon as Hotch entered and closed the door behind him Spencer’s legs gave out, leaving him to collapse onto his knees.

"Talk,” Hotch said, his tone dangerously quiet.

"(Y/N)'s not sick," he managed to choke out between the gasping sobs that now wracked his chest. "Di-didn't— come home— last night," his words were punctuated by gasping breaths. "M-my sweater— wearing my sweater—" he couldn't breathe, and his vision was like looking through a tunnel, the edges getting darker and pushing in more and more with each second, he struggled to inhale. He shouldn't have gone home last night. He should have gone after her.

"And you have reason to believe she was at the 11th Street bridge?" Hotch questioned.

"She used to walk there every night," Spencer jumped at the sound of Garcia's hollow voice coming from behind him. He hadn't even noticed her come in through his panicked haze. "When she first started here. It's why she always looked so tired those first five months, because she'd barely sleep. She'd walk there and pace back and forth along the bridge. Sometimes she'd just sit on the railing."

"Sh-she hasn't been there in months," Spencer's voice was hoarse, "but last night she— something happened that upset her and she walked off—" another round of sobs forced their way out. "Hotch, he's gonna—" Spencer reached for the trash can next to Hotch's desk and vomited again, and again.

"Spencer," Hotch knelt in front of the young agent, gently moving the trash can to the side. "Deep breaths. I know you're terrified. If you need to take yourself off the case, don't worry. We'll find her."

"Off the case?" He panted, trying to steady his breathing.

"Well you're clearly in no state to be doing much of anything. I don't think anyone on the team would blame you for having to step back on this one," Hotch reasoned.

"What? No, no I've got to find her!" He felt his head clearing a bit as his breathing finally returned to a normal rhythm, his vision slowly returning until he could see the full room properly.

"Reid, are you sure that’s a good idea—"

"Hotch," Spencer interrupted, "I can't just do nothing while he tor—" he reached for the trashcan and vomited yet again at the thought of what the Unsub was going to do to her, what he probably already was doing to her; he was honestly surprised there was anything left for his stomach to throw up at this point. “I can’t just sit by and watch, knowing that every second she’s there with him she’s being subjected to one sort of torture or another.”

Hotch paused and observed Spencer briefly before he rose to his feet and offered Spencer a hand to help him stand, as well. “Take a few minutes to compose yourself and then meet me at the SUV downstairs. We’ll head to the precinct together and you can fill me in on what happened that upset her last night. It might help with the victimology, which you’re going to be working on with me for now since you know (Y/N) better than anyone else.”

“Thank you, Hotch,” Spencer managed to force out, the words quiet and trembling. Hotch left the office and Garcia lingered, giving Spencer a look of pure sorrow.

“I— I’m so sorry, Spencer,” she began, an echo of their conversation outside of the bar last night.

“Garcia, this isn’t your fault,” he responded, continuing the reprisal.

“When you didn’t call me last night I—I just figured that you two had—I don't know—kissed and made up and fallen asleep, I didn’t realize that she never even made it home,” her voice broke on the very last word, and her hand shot up to her mouth as sobs began to escape. Spencer’s legs were still shaky, but he managed to cross the room to her and give her a tight embrace. “I—no, you shouldn’t have to comfort me right now, Spencer, I’m sorry!”

“Consider this me returning the favor from yesterday,” he muttered, his own voice tearful while he kept holding on to her. He swallowed around the lump in his throat.

“Spencer, you have to find her before he can—”

“I know. I will,” he said, trying his very best to sound determined. Instead, his voice came out sounding more like that of a frightened boy than a grown FBI agent.

“What’s going on with Reid?” Emily asked Derek, giving him a quizzical look from the passenger seat of the SUV.

“Last night I sort of went off on (Y/N) after one too many glasses of whiskey and I may have told her nobody wanted her there,” he confessed, shame swirling in his head as he drove. He didn’t really dislike her; he found her demeanor slightly off-putting, but he had felt the same way about Reid when he first joined the team, and she was an excellent profiler, so the least he could do was give (Y/N) the same benefit of the doubt he had given Reid. “Garcia tore me a new one after he had come back into the bar and told us that she had broken things off between them because of my...outburst.”

“Damn it, Morgan,” Emily muttered, flipping through the file in her hands. “You see, this is why we can’t have nice things!”

“Look, look, I know I was wrong about what I said to her, but I can’t turn back the clock. I’ll just have to find her and apologize once she’s feeling better.” They approached the 11th Street bridge, and he stopped the car and put it in park. They both stepped out into the crisp morning air, a light fog slightly obscuring their vision.

“According to the witness statement, this guy was out for a late-night jog when he called the non-emergency police line after seeing a man toss what the was presumed to be trash into the river in a giant black trash bag,” Emily recited what she had read from the file on the drive there. “But he called 911 when he said he heard what sounded like the start of a scream and then saw the struggle before saying the woman went entirely limp. Report says he tried to catch up with the Unsub, who then got into an unmarked black van and drove away.”

"Looks like the CSI team may have missed something," Derek called out to Emily as he caught a glimpse of what looked like an earring and some dried blood under some fallen leaves on the bridge. He snapped a glove onto his hand, and when he pushed the leaves aside he felt his blood run cold. He'd recognize this earring anywhere. "Oh, no."

"I-I like your earrings," a soft, small voice spoke from behind Derek and Penelope as they did their morning flirting routine. They both turned and saw the newest member of the team looking shyly at Penelope.

"Oh these? Thanks! You know, I could make you a pair if you'd like," Garcia smiled at (Y/N), whose eyes widened in panic.

"O-oh! No, don't worry, y-you don't n-n-need to trouble yourself like that!" The young agent hurried off in a panic.

"That was...weird," Derek mused to himself as he walked to his desk.

"I guess she decided to take up Garcia's offer on a pair of her own after all," he muttered, his voice sorrowful.

"What'd you find, Morgan?" Emily asked as she made her way over. "Is that one of Garcia's earrings? How'd that get here?"

"She had offered to make a pair for (Y/N) right around the time she joined the team," Derek explained before looking up to find Emily's face falling at the realization.

"Oh, god," she gasped, her hand covering her mouth. "Bag that, I'll call Hotch and let him know what we found."

"I'll also call Garcia, ask her to get the address of the witness. We got to get (Y/N) out of there ASAP." Derek pulled out his phone and dialed Garcia.

"What, Derek?" She snapped, and Derek had to fight every urge in his body to playfully argue with her to try to lessen her anger with him. There were more pressing things he had to talk about right now.

"Hey, Garcia, we found something at the scene," he began, "it was, uh, an earring you had made for (Y/L/N) from the looks of it. Got a little bit of dried blood on the post." He took in a deep breath before adding on, "I'm sorry." The line was silent for a minute before she finally spoke again.

"Poor Reid," she whispered, her voice tearful. He could hear her take a shaky breath before she asked, "what, uh, what do you need me to do?"

"I need the address of the witness, a man named Jonathan Levi," he he explained.

"Yeah, uh, yeah I can get that for you right now," she said, her voice growing stronger. He could almost see her wiping her tears from her cheeks as he heard her sniffle on the other end. "I'm sending it to your phone now. And Derek?"

"Yeah, baby girl?"

"You find this son of a bitch," she said before the line disconnected.

"We will," he said to himself.

"Prentiss," Hotch's voice came through Emily's cell phone, "what have you been able to learn from the crime scene?"

"Uh, well not very much, yet. Morgan's calling Garcia to get the address of the witness so we can interview him," she answered, trying to keep her voice from sounding shaky. She failed.

''But?" Hotch pressed.

"...but we did find an earring with some dried blood on the post that was missed under some leaves," she added, swallowing nearly audibly. "Earrings that—that Morgan thinks Garcia had made for (Y/L/N) a little while back."

"Thanks, Prentiss. I've got Reid with me, I'll let him know what you've found," Hotch said before the line disconnected.

"—yeah, baby girl?" She heard from where Morgan stood, followed by a determined, "We will."

"Prentiss!" He called out, heading to the black SUV. "Garcia sent me the address, can you drive?" He tossed her the keys and she caught them, jogging over to the drivers' seat.

"Reid, you doing okay?" Rossi asked him as they rushed to the home they had finally tracked the Unsub to.

"I—I just—," he stammered, swallowing the lump in his throat. "I just hope we get to her in time." His voice was barely above a whisper.

"We know he keeps them for a week. It's only been three days," Spencer felt Rossi's hand land on his shoulder. "She's a fighter, Spencer. You know that better than anyone else here."

The address Garcia had tracked down for them led them to the fairly large but still dilapidated house of a man named Andrew Warren, a CNA at a local mental facility who lost his parents in a double suicide as a child, and then his older sister to suicide a month ago after she had gone through multiple rounds of ECT as a teenager in the 1990s.

The other SUV containing Prentiss, JJ, and Morgan arrived at the house slightly before theirs and Spencer could see as his coworkers stopped the car and raced towards the door of the house. Morgan kicked down the door and raced inside right as Hotch put their vehicle in park and Spencer was out of the door before he could hear any of Hotch's orders. He didn't care about orders, right now. All he cared about was getting the love of his life to safety.

As he ran over the threshold of the house, he heard shouting coming from up a bunch of old stairs. He took the steps two at a time and he went up each floor until he finally reached what seemed to be the third floor landing. The shouting became more distinct as he approached and he could make out Morgan negotiating with the Unsub.

"She's weak," the Unsub spat, followed by a whimper from (Y/N) that sent a stab of pure fear through his gut. "Weak members of our species like her need to be removed from the gene pool."

"Drop the knife, Andrew," Spencer heard Morgan say in a calm voice as he rounded the final corner and the entire situation came into his view. The Unsub had (Y/N) in front of him with a knife held to her throat, both of them standing before a large, open window. She was in nothing but her underwear and bra and had multiple electrical burns marring her skin. (Y/N) made eye contact with Spencer and tears started streaking down her cheeks as she mouthed I'm sorry to him, sending a crack through his chest.

"Don't come any closer!" The Unsub screamed as he finally noticed Spencer approaching with his gun drawn. Spencer's eyes widened as he slowly put his gun back into the holster and then raised his hands just as slowly. He halted his steps and took a deep breath.

"It's okay, Andrew," Spencer attempted to sound calm and collected through his panic. "I'm just trying to help."

Spencer looked around the room at JJ and Prentiss who were flanking Morgan in the center, both with their guns drawn. He could hear Hotch and Rossi approaching behind him and he turned and softly told them, "stay back." He then started slowly approaching again as he turned to the Unsub. "I know what you've been through, Andrew," he said, his voice steadier than he thought it would be.

"You lost your parents in a double suicide when you and your sister were little. Your foster parents would torment you and your sister and blamed you both for the way you reacted to the trauma you had been through and your sister ended up institutionalized after a suicide attempt at 17. Once she got out and took custody of you when she turned 18 and you were 16, she had trouble being able to keep up with everything. She started harming herself," Spencer took another shaky breath as he slowly continued forward, watching as tears welled in Andrew's eyes. "And then you lost her, too, when she jumped from the 11th Street bridge a month ago."

"Sh-she was weak, just like my mom and dad." Andrew responded, but his voice cracked and faltered.

"No, Andrew, they weren't weak. They were sick," Spencer reasoned with him. "Your sister was diagnosed with bipolar disorder, just like your parents. She was sick and in pain. She wasn't weak."

"She was weak," Andrew said. "She left me here all alone!"

"I know," Spencer said, the slightest amount of relief sparking within him as the knife at (Y/N)'s throat began to lower. "I know she did. You can't blame yourself, though, Andrew. It's not your fault. They needed help that you couldn't give by yourself, and that's not your fault. Just let her go and we can get you the help that you need." He pleaded with him, his voice wavering slightly as he looked (Y/N) in the eye again and saw all of the fear and pain radiating from them.

"No," Andrew responded as tears streaked down his face. "I can't—" As he raised the knife back to (Y/N)'s neck, Spencer heard the sound of gunfire and watched in terror as Andrew started to fall backward with his arms still around (Y/N). Spencer tried to run to her but didn't make it before they fell through the open window.

"No!" Morgan shouted as he lunged forward, grabbing (Y/N)'s hand right as she fell backward out the window. Andrew's lifeless body plummeted to the ground beneath them, landing with a crunch. "Hold on, (Y/L/N), I've got you!" He called to her as she dangled from the window, his hand her only lifeline.

Spencer rushed forward to his side before reaching his own hand out the window toward (Y/N), and together they pulled her back up through the window. They moved back and Morgan closed the window as Spencer wrapped (Y/N) into his arms while she sobbed in relief.

"I'm so sorry," she muttered into his chest over and over. Spencer just held her close and kept assuring her that she had nothing to apologize for.

I sat on the back lip of the ambulance, a blanket around my shoulders in some borrowed clothes. Spencer refused to leave my side until he was called away by Hotch. "I'll be right back, okay, love?" He looked at me before giving my forehead a soft, gentle kiss and then walked over to our boss.

"(Y/N)," I heard from a few feet away. I turned and was faced with Derek Morgan.

"M-Morgan," I stammered as my eyes widened. "I-I'm so sorry—"

"Stop, (Y/N). You don't have to apologize to me for anything," he started, "I'm the one who needs to be apologizing for my behavior."

"I—you just kept me from being dragged out of a window and likely breaking my neck. You don't owe me anything. I owe you my life." I muttered, looking at the ground.

"You don't owe me anything. I did the same thing for you that I would have done for any other member of this team," he looked at me while I kept my gaze on the ground in front of me. "Look at me, (Y/N)." I looked at him and he looked me right in the eye as he said, "my behavior the other night was uncalled for. "This team is a family, and you are a vital part of that family. We need you, Spencer needs you, and I'm so, so sorry. I hope that you'll let me try to make it up to you in the future."

Vital. He called me vital. That word clanged through me and I broke down crying again. He wrapped me in a bear hug and apologized again. "Th-thank you, Derek." I said, my voice small as I hesitantly wrapped my arms around him in return.

"I'm sorry, (Y/N)," he said one more time before releasing me. The paramedics approached and asked if anyone was going to accompany me to the hospital.

"Reid!" Morgan called to Spencer, who had just finished up with Hotch. Spencer raced back to us, his eyes widening and growing concerned when he saw my fresh tears.

"What's wrong?! Is everything okay?" He asked as he gently grabbed me by the shoulders and looked into my eyes. I closed my eyes and nodded, unable to form any words. Vital. I'd never felt that I was wanted or needed anywhere I'd been in my life, much less vital to anyone or anything.

"Paramedics wanna know if you're gonna accompany her to the hospital," Morgan explained, and Spencer agreed in a heartbeat. I was then loaded onto a gurney and into the ambulance, one of the paramedics and Spencer following behind.

Vital. As I looked at Spencer, he grabbed by hand and pulled it up to his lips and placed a soft kiss on the back. "I'm so happy you're alive," Spencer whispered to me, his hand moving to stroke some of my hair out of my face. "I love you, (Y/N)."

@busy-buzzing here's part 2 sorry it took so long!

[dandylovesturtles]

I should be asleep lol

Immediately post-S2

———

Donnie grew up in the sewers, so maybe he has no room to judge, but Draxum’s apartment is pretty terrible.

The first night - after they defeated Shredder, with their home so destroyed they couldn’t return, Draxum had (only a little begrudgingly) offered them a place to stay - Donnie had been so tired he hadn’t given it a second thought. He’d collapsed in the nest of blankets and sleeping bags they’d made and slept blissfully through the night. He learned the next morning that Raph had not gotten much sleep at all, too keyed up and full of adrenaline, but the rest of them had conked out immediately.

The second night, Raph had joined them in sawing logs. And they’d all slept soundly through the third night, too. But now it’s night four, and Donnie’s finally well-rested enough to realize that everything is very wrong.

The sheets are a different texture. The thermostat is set too low. The ambient sounds of the apartment building are not the ambient sounds of the sewer.

His dad’s snores from the couch and Raph’s deep rumble are familiar, at least. Both of them are out, Splinter the first to fall asleep that evening in front of Draxum’s crummy TV. Even Leo is asleep again, his insomnia yet to rear its ugly head, and Donnie can’t help but be a little jealous.

And of course, Mikey can sleep anywhere and anytime, so Donnie knows without even looking that he’s asleep. It’s just Donnie awake, then, staring at the ceiling and trying to will away the persistent itch of incorrectness.

At least, that’s what Donnie was thinking, until he hears a distinct sniffling noise from the pile of sheets that is his little brother.

Donnie goes as still and quiet as he can, listening closely. Maybe he just misheard? No, but that was definitely another sniffle… and the mound of sheets is quivering, now.

Mikey is crying. Donnie’s little brother is crying, and he may not be the one who usually handles these things, but Donnie is still a big brother, and more importantly he is the big brother who is awake.

He sits up, blanket draped around his shoulders, and carefully scoots himself around Leo’s tangle of limbs. Then he flops down next to Mikey’s mound, reaching out to lay a hand on top.

“Mikey?” he whispers.

There’s some shuffling, and then Mikey’s face peeks out from under his sheets. His eyes are wet, visible even in the dim light of the room, and he keeps snorting. Donnie makes a gallant effort not to flinch at the sound.

“Dee?” Another sniffle. “Did I wake you up?”

“No, I was already awake.” He rubs at the mound, for all the good it will do. “Are you okay?”

Mikey snorts hard, then blinks furiously to banish his tears. It doesn’t work. “I’m fine,” he insists, but it comes out hoarse and stuffy.

Donnie holds up a finger, then pushes himself to his feet. He pads across the apartment to the coffee table they’d shoved aside to make room and retrieves a box of tissues that he brings back, setting it pointedly in front of Mikey.

Finally, Mikey sits up, letting the sheets pool around him. He pulls out two tissues and blows his nose as quietly as he can - it’s still pretty loud, but Splinter’s snoring covers it up.

“Thanks,” he whispers once he’s done, tossing the balled up tissues to the side. Donnie pointedly ignores them (no matter how gross) and focuses on the matter at hand.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, not giving Mikey an out this time.

Mikey chews his lip. “It’s just… hitting me finally, I guess.”

Donnie tilts his head. “What is?”

“That… that the lair’s really gone. That we’re not going back.” New tears spring to his eyes, and Mikey grabs another tissue. “It’s just… I mean, we saw it yesterday, but… I don’t know. It’s l-like I didn’t really g-get it until right now.”

His voice is wobbling hard by the end. He chokes off a sob, rubbing his nose furiously with the tissue. Donnie knows that there’s definitely snot on Mikey’s fingers and probably his arms, too, but he can’t watch this anymore. He offers Mikey a hug, his arms barely open a second before Mikey is throwing himself into it.

As Mikey holds onto him and cries, Donnie thinks about the day before (well, really the day before the day before - it’s after three AM, now). They’d gone to the lair, to see what they could salvage. Everyone had been subdued; even Leo wasn’t managing to joke like he normally would. Only Mikey was still upbeat, able to see the silver lining in every cloud, cheering over every item they found that was still intact enough to bring with them, encouraging them to come back later and look for more.

Maybe they’d been a little too complacent that Mikey was going to be okay, after all that. But of course he isn’t; he loves their home as much as the rest. Sewers and all.

“We’re homeless, aren’t we?” asks Mikey after a minute or two. Donnie hasn’t really thought of it like that, but now that Mikey has said it, he knows he can’t refute it.

“In the technical sense, yes,” he says, and regrets it when Mikey bursts into a fresh round of tears. For the first time in his life, he abhors technical correctness.

But while it may be correct in the technical sense, what about other senses?

Donnie pulls Mikey down onto the sleeping bag, then works the sheets and his blanket over the both of them. Finally, he snakes a hand around to grab another fistful of tissues for Mikey, passing them over without dislodging Mikey from his hug.

“Do you know what I think Dr. Feelings would say, if he were here?” Donnie asks, once they’re both settled.

Mikey blows his nose again, then peers up at Donnie. “What?”

“I think he would say that home is where the heart is. As long as you’re with me, and Leo and Raph and Dad, you can’t be homeless.”

He delivers this with a great amount of conviction, so he can’t help but be a smidge irritated when Mikey laughs.

“Hey! I’m trying to help!”

“I know!” Mikey giggles, burying his face against Donnie’s plastron and lightly head butting into his chin. “That was a really great Dr. Feelings, Dee. Thank you.”

“…Hm, well, I was just passing along his recommendation.”

Mikey hums. There’s still a bit of a wheeze from breathing through a stuffy nose, but he sounds like he’s stopped crying.

“Hey, Donnie?”

“Yeah?”

“Love ya.”

“I love you, too.”

Sleep doesn’t find Donnie that night. But it finds Mikey, and he considers that a win.

[epicbuddieficrecs]

Weekly Recap | August 12th-18th 2024

Little bit late, but I hope you enjoy it!

Complete

Right Here, Right Meow by carpediaz/ @sofa-king-lame (Getting Together | 1,7K | General): The one where Buck gets a cat and ropes Eddie into looking after her. Not that Eddie needs much convincing, he'd do pretty much anything for Buck at this point.

plugged in by PretentiousSwanQueen/ @hotcinnamonsunset (Secret Buddie, PWP | 2,5K | Explicit): or: Buck and Eddie are secretly together and grabbing drinks with the team and decide to have a little fun with butt plugs along the way.

prove it by PretentiousSwanQueen/ @hotcinnamonsunset (Getting Together, Post-S7 | 3K | Explicit): or: when enough is enough, Eddie and Buck watch When Harry Met Sally because when you realize you want to spend the rest of your life with somebody, you want the rest of your life to start as soon as possible. And you know. Blow jobs to follow.

🔥 Perfect Fit by Inell/ @inell (Post-S7, Friends to Fiances | 3K | Teen): Buck drops by to talk to Eddie after his break up with Tommy ends up with an unexpected offer. Eddie realizes that it’s time for him to finally make his move before it’s too late.

First Date Nerves by Inell/ @inell (First Date, PWP | 5K | Explicit): Buck and Eddie are on their first date, both nervous about taking their friendship to the next level. Neither one wants the date to end, though, so they continue it at Eddie’s house.

the cost of doing business by PretentiousSwanQueen/ @hotcinnamonsunset (Ravi POV, Secret Buddie | 5K | Teen): It happens like this: he had been this close! like, minutes away from printing out a new tenant lease! when the prospective renter in question calls the leasing office and mentions that she won’t be needing the 1 bed, 1 bath walk up in Faircrest Heights any more because she snagged a 2 bath loft downtown that seemed like a once in a lifetime opportunity.

🔥 I'll Make This Feel Like Home by cairparavels (Post-S4 to S6 | 5K | Not Rated): Buck keeps calling Eddie's house home, and its making Eddie rethink a lot about his life. (Five times Buck refers to Eddie's house as his home plus one time Eddie does.)

🔥 Where You Go (I Go) by blueberrytwoberry/ @blueberrytwoberry (Post-S7, Getting Together | 7K | Explicit): Eddie stood before an open cupboard. He had a big cardboard box on the counter beside him. As Buck stood there, feeling as though he’d been turned to stone, Eddie put a stack of plates into the box. A stack of identical cardboard boxes sat by the kitchen table. Buck looked across all of it, his heart lurching painfully in his chest, and managed to ask, “What are - Eddie, what are you doing?” OR: Eddie's decided to change his living arrangements; Buck takes it poorly.

🔥 Vibrant by blueberrytwoberry/ @blueberrytwoberry (Soulmates AU | 8K | Teen): Color flooded into Buck’s world between one jump and the next in the middle of the tight, pressing crowd of a concert when he was twenty and making a pit stop from running somewhere - anywhere - away from where he’d been. He wished like hell, afterwards, that it had happened anywhere else at any other time. OR, Buck meets his soulmate, misses them, and tries to deal with that.

Right. Down. Medical. by blueberrytwoberry/ @blueberrytwoberry (Post-S7, Canon Typical Catastrophe, Getting Together | 8K | Teen): Buck hadn’t expected to end up in a disastrous accident when he boarded a train - the Pacific Surfliner - for what should have been a relaxing trip down the coast to enjoy some beautiful scenery and just relax, but if he had - and maybe he should have, considering the way bad luck and trouble seemed to follow him - he’d have expected something normal, you know, like a derailment. OR: Buck has some realizations about his life after an accident on a train.

like a vision reaching down to you by blueberrytwoberry/ @blueberrytwoberry (Post-S7, Crack | 8K | Teen): “You ever notice how a lot of the calls we go on seem kind of, I don’t know, predictive?” Buck asked, when the game they were watching cut over to a commercial, his voice an anchor dropped right in the middle of the spiral of Eddie’s thoughts, dispelling it. OR: The crew at the 118 realizes that the universe is, possibly, trying to tell them something via their jobs.

I never meant to fall for you but I was buried underneath by smilingbuckley/ @smilingbuckley (Canon Divergent Probie Buck | 9K | Teen):  Buck is the new probie at the 118 and Eddie.exe stops functioning.

🔥an inch away from more than just friends by allyasavedtheday/ @littlespoonevan (Post-S7, Getting Together | 10K | Teen): In which Buck has a clipboard and a list and is about to romance the hell out of Eddie Diaz. (Part 2 of Eddie vs Romance)

🔥From the Ground Up by blueberrytwoberry/ @blueberrytwoberry (S3, Animal Transformation | 17K | Mature): Eddie’s life had gone to shit in roughly every possible way. He felt about two seconds away from breaking every hour of every day, like someone had stepped up in front of him, shoved him down, smashed the life he’d been working on, and left him to rebuild from the ground up. And so, really, the last thing he needed when he got home at the end of a long shift was to find a massive, weird-ass dog curled up on his front porch. And yet, there it was.

Lost 'Til I Found You by JJK/ @trenchcoatsandtimetravel (911/MCU Crossover, S3 | 20K | Teen): A 9-1-1 x Marvel crossover where Buck is a genetic son of Steve Rogers because the doctors the Buckley's used to make their saviour baby were also experimenting with the super soldier serum.

WIP

🔥Where there's smoke by rainbow_nerds/ @rainbow-nerdss (Multiverses | 18/31 | 22K | Teen): His eyelids are heavy. His lungs ache. The smoke is dense and thick, slowly suffocating him. Eddie feels himself drift as Buck’s voice penetrates the smoke, cuts through the fog in his brain. “Eddie, stay with me. Stay with me, Eds.” Eddie wants to stay. He wants to open his eyes and see Buck. He doesn’t want to leave. But he’s so tired, and sleep is calling him. Maybe it will be okay. Maybe his dreams will be sweet. Maybe there’ll be peace, there. And maybe, if he just rests for a little while, he’ll be able to find his way back.

Gentle On My Mind by Daisies_and_Briars/ @cal-daisies-and-briars (Canon Divergent, Shannon Lives, Buck/Eddie/Shannon | 1/? | 6K | Explicit): In which Shannon lives, tells a lie, and sends hers, Eddie's, and Buck's lives down a very different path.

go and kill, go and die by Daisies_and_Briars/ @cal-daisies-and-briars (Zombie Apocalypse AU | 3/14 | 12K | Mature): The 118 are a group of survivors in a small California town in the wake of a zombie apocalypse. For months they've been isolated and safe. But the arrival of some new players, the search for some missing loved ones, will shake everything up and put their little team in jeopardy.

🔥 Long Death by Daisies_and_Briars/ @cal-daisies-and-briars (Post-S7, Vampire AU | 13/15 | 62K | Explicit): In the summer of 2024, a never before seen form of vampirism breaks out in Los Angeles. Just as Eddie is about to get his son back. Six months later, Buck's life is permanently changed.

Podfic

🔥 [podfic] to hurt, to heal, to hope by be_brave13/ @djemsowhat // fic by brewrosemilk/ @gayhoediaz (Post-S7, Getting Together | 10-20min | Teen): "I'd love to be more of a gentleman about this, and I mean this in the most abstract and metaphorical, and least possessive way possible, but in the spirit of not wasting any more time than we already have, Buck..." the words follow each other quickly through a single, whispered breath. "...you're fucking crazy if you think I'm letting you go on that date." "Eddie, you think I'm going anywhere, you're fucking crazy."

🔥[podfic] Advice Wanted by be_brave13/ @djemsowhat // fic by cairparavels (Social Media Fic | 45-60min | Teen): Eddie Diaz takes to Reddit to figure out why he hates his best friend’s new boyfriend so much.

[steddieas-shegoes]

Request: Steve has a few younger siblings. He is very protective over them (2 brothers & 1 baby sister) his family is very close. But the party meeting his siblings in the hospital post spring break from hell, Steve's little sister screams tearfully until she is put beside her older brother who is in hospital due to severe injuries. His younger brothers (8yrs old & 5 yrs old) demand for their big brother to be left alone by these strangers. The party demanded to know why he kept his siblings from them???? Also Steve just being loved on by his parents & his siblings and of the party.

DARLING IDK HOW YOU COME UP WITH THIS STUFF BUT THANK GOD YA DO!!! Steve having siblings and good parents and STILL choosing to be the best damn babysitter is kind of giving me LIFE. I am forever here for giving Steve all the love he deserves. A little backstory for this in my brain: Steve's parents got married right out of high school at their own parents' insistence, and they loved each other, but wanted to go to college first. Anne got pregnant during their honeymoon and had to put college on hold. The reason there's such a big age gap between Steve and his siblings is because she finished college, started working as a lawyer, and then went into business with Richard. Once they were comfortable in that for a couple years, they decided to have more kids. We love responsible decisions!!! - Mickala ❤️

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

Steve spent 12 hours unconscious, which would be more alarming if he hadn’t had worse before. At least this time he was in a hospital for it.

Or maybe that was worse.

His mom was by his side the moment he woke up, along with a pacing Dustin and half-asleep Robin.

“Mom? Where’s Dad?”

“Oh, honey!” Anne Harrington was a strong woman, a lawyer who didn’t take shit from anyone, only cried when Steve won his basketball championship and graduated high school. But here she was, sobbing against his hand tightly grasped in her own. “He’s with your brothers and sister. I didn’t want them to see you like this, honey. You almost died!”

Maybe that was true. He certainly felt like he almost died.

He felt Robin and Dustin staring at them, realized what his mom had said.

“Brothers?” Dustin asked, barely more than a whisper, from the foot of the hospital bed.

“Sister?” Robin asked, a yawn breaking out before she even finished asking.

There was a commotion outside the door, he could hear his father’s voice trying to stay calm as he spoke, but knew he was frustrated.

Then he heard a loud cry and his heart broke.

“Was that Bethany?” Steve croaked, his eyes watering at the wails his three year old sister was letting out.

Anne looked at the mostly closed door, nodding as she turned back to Steve in the bed.

“They’ve been begging to see you since this morning. They wouldn’t stop begging to come, so your dad compromised and said they could sit in the waiting room until you woke up, but they’ve been sitting there for two hours. You know how they get.”

He did. He knew that any compromise they’d agreed to was going to work to their benefit in the end because they were all much too clever for their ages.

Suddenly, the door shot open and his eight year old brother, James, stood there with wide eyes. His five year old brother, Ryan, stood behind him, bouncing on his feet so he could try to see.

His father appeared behind them, holding Bethany in his arms, and looking like he wished he could be anywhere else.

But that look disappeared when he saw that Steve was awake.

“I’m so glad you’re okay, son,” he said, a choked noise making its way from his throat like he would have sobbed if the kids weren’t there.

He could feel the confusion coming from Robin and Dustin, but now wasn’t the time to explain any of it.

“Hey kiddos. You guys okay?” Steve rasped out, giving a small smile to all his siblings.

James and Ryan ran to his bed, climbing onto it carefully when Anne snapped her fingers at them and told them to go slow so they didn’t hurt their brother.

“Down, daddy! Wanna see Steve!” Bethany was kicking her legs and trying to push away from Richard, who sighed and let her down.

She ran to the bed, ignored the warning to go slow, and piled into Steve’s lap.

It hurt, but she was so small, and Steve could deal with some discomfort if it meant she could see he was okay.

“Steve, you have boo-boos!”

He patted her always messy hair, and gave her the best smile he could muster.

“Just a few. I’m gonna get all better soon, though. The doctors just had to put some bandaids on them.”

“Are they Barbie bandaids?”

“Of course they aren’t, Bethany. They’re big and have to be wrapped,” James said.

Steve gripped James’ hand in his.

James was going through a phase of wanting to seem older than he was, which was normal, but he took a lot of it out on Bethany. Bethany could certainly hold her own, and often did, but they were all emotional and under a lot of stress at this moment, so Steve stepped in.

“Buddy, let’s just take it easy today, okay? It’s okay to be scared, but so is Bethany and she’s little, so we have to be patient. Like we talked about, remember?”

“What is happening right now?” Dustin asked, still standing awkwardly at the end of his bed.

“Um. Dustin, Robin, this is Bethany, James is to my left, and Ryan is to my right. These are my brothers and sister.”

“You have siblings.”

It wasn’t a question, but Steve could hear the disbelief in Dustin’s tone.

“I do.”

“You never mentioned them?” Robin asked as she looked at where Richard and Anne were now whispering in the corner of the room.

“It just never really came up?”

“Uh. Okay.”

“Who are these people?” Ryan asked as he turned his face into Steve’s arm, always more shy than his other siblings.

“That’s my best friend, Robin, and Dustin. I used to babysit him and now he’s like another brother.”

“But we’re your brothers,” James said, crossing his arms against his chest.

“Of course. But there’s plenty of room to have Dustin around, too. He’s awesome. He can teach you D&D!”

Bethany was curling up against his chest, at least being more careful now that she’d seen his injuries up close. Ryan was shuffling closer to his side, burying his head under his arm like he did on their family movie nights when he was getting tired but didn’t want anyone to know. James was still tense, jealous.

“Did he teach you D&D?”

“Nah. I told you it’s too complicated for me.”

“Did I hear someone say D&D?” Eddie peeked his head through the door, grin lighting up the room.

“Eddie!” Dustin exclaimed.

“Looks like Steve’s got a whole party in here! Are we playing or what?”

Eddie walked into the room completely, smiling until he realized that Steve’s parents were here.

They got together during chaos; they didn’t have time to talk about logistics, about what Steve’s parents knew about him, if they would even be okay with him.

He’d briefly mentioned his siblings to Eddie when they were getting weapons ready, but didn’t talk much about anything else.

“Eds, these are my parents, Richard and Anne,” Steve introduced them, winking at his mom when she gave him a questioning look.

He’d been out to his parents for months, accidentally letting slip that he’d gone on a date with a guy on their Christmas vacation. They took it well overall, the shock making it seem like they were upset, but they were just confused about why he’d only ever brought home girls.

“Mom, Dad, this is my boyfriend, Eddie.”

Eddie’s eyes practically bulged out of his head when he realized what Steve was doing.

“Ew, a boyfriend?” James, already back to his previous attitude, curled his lip up in disgust.

He looked so like Steve sometimes, it was alarming. If they were out running errands together, people often assumed he was his son.

“James! Watch your tone!” Anne said as she reached out a hand to shake Eddie’s. “It’s lovely to meet you, Eddie. I assume you’re the one who helped carry Steve to safety?”

“Yes ma’am.”

“So polite. Who would’ve thought Steve found someone so nice?” Richard said with a smirk and a wink at Steve.

“Are you in love?” Bethany asked as she watched Eddie from her spot against Steve’s chest.

Steve could feel his face heat up, watched as Eddie’s face went red and he looked down at the floor.

“We care about each other a lot, B,” Steve replied, hoping she would drop it.

“But he saved you! Like a princess!”

Eddie let out a small laugh as he got closer to the bed and sat down on the edge.

“Well, you look like a princess, too. What’s your name?” He asked, glancing up at Steve for a moment to make sure it was okay he sat there. Steve nodded once.

“Beffany.”

“Princess Bethany? Of Loch Nora?”

Bethany looked at Anne to confirm, nodding as soon as her mom gave her a thumbs up.

Eddie stood back up, bowed, and then sat down again.

“It’s an honor to be in your presence, your highness.”

“Are you a knight?” she asked as she scooted away from Steve’s chest and off his lap, climbing her way into Eddie’s.

Ryan was even pulling away slightly to watch what was going on.

“I wish! I haven’t been through all of my training yet. Maybe you could help me?”

“What kinda trainin’?” Bethany started playing with his hair, but Eddie didn’t stop her, wanted her to feel comfortable while Steve recovered.

“I need to learn my royal etiquette. Do you think you can show me?”

“Yes! We have lessons!”

“Great!” Eddie beamed at her. “Maybe you can give me lessons when your brother goes home?”

“Mommy! Can Eddie come play?”

“Of course. But not today. Steve has to keep resting here for a couple days and I think Eddie probably wants to be here for him.”

“Okay. I stay too?”

“No, baby. We have to let Steve rest some more. We can come back to visit tomorrow.”

Steve felt Ryan and James cling to his arms when they realized that meant they were all leaving.

“But Robin and Dustin are staying!” James was jealous. He loved spending time with Steve, thrived on being considered “mature” enough to run errands with him when their parents were busy, helping him with chores because he was the only one big enough.

Dustin was a threat to his time with Steve, even at eight he could tell.

“Actually, I passed Dustin’s mom on the way here and she was coming to get him soon to go home. He hurt his ankle and shouldn’t even be walking around right now,” Eddie said, eyes squinting in Dustin’s direction like they’d already discussed this once.

“And I have to get home to my parents so they don’t worry. Maybe you can walk me to the bus stop and keep me safe?” Robin asked, somewhat awkwardly.

She didn’t know how to talk to kids, but it was a valiant attempt.

And it seemed to work.

James perked up at the thought of helping in a big kid way.

“Oh, darling, we can drop you off at your house on our way home,” Anne said. “I’ll take you and James can walk with us so we aren’t alone. Right, James?”

James nodded vigorously.

“I’ll protect you. And then we can come back tomorrow to see if Steve’s better.”

Steve leaned down and kissed the top of Ryan’s head, smiling when he realized he fell asleep at some point during the conversation.

“He barely slept last night. I’ll carry him. Hopefully now that he’s seen you’re alive and okay he can rest,” Richard said with a sad smile.

“If you bring them all tomorrow morning, I can help them make character sheets for D&D,” Eddie suggested.

“Yes! Please, dad! Can we?” James bounced in the bed, jostling everyone a bit.

Steve hissed in pain, but tried to cover it with a smile when James looked at him with an apologetic look.

“Sure. If you promise to sleep tonight and eat breakfast in the morning, we can come back.”

“I promise!” James poked Ryan. “Ryan! Promise you’ll sleep tonight and have breakfast in the morning so we can come play D&D!”

Ryan blinked a few times, nodded, then snuggled back into Steve’s side.

As Richard and Anne worked on gathering the kids and Robin and Dustin walked out with them, Steve relaxed in the hospital bed, finally feeling most of his injuries.

He knew they would give him more pain meds if he asked, but he wanted a few minutes with Eddie first.

“Hey.”

“Hey, sweetheart,” Eddie said as he took his hand in his own, gently squeezing as he made himself comfortable on the side of the bed.

“Thanks for being so cool with them,” Steve let his eyes close for a moment as he took in every wound on his body.

He knew this was a close one, could tell by the way Eddie was looking at him a moment ago.

“You never told anyone else about them?”

Steve shook his head.

“Didn’t really need to. I figured they’d all meet eventually. Just never came up before.”

“Want me to get the nurse?” Eddie could tell he didn’t want to talk about it right now, so he changed the subject quickly.

“In a minute. Wanna kiss you.”

“Oh yeah? Come kiss me then.”

Steve opened one eye and started pouting.

“You come kiss me,” Steve said.

“Fine. But only because you’re hurting.”

Eddie leaned down to press his lips against Steve’s softly, a comfort as much as a promise for more when he was better.

“You’ll stay?”

“Yeah, sweetheart. Just gonna get the nurse and grab a snack from the machine down the hall and then I’m all yours for the night.”

“Can’t wait to feel better.”

“I know. Maybe next time you won’t try to be a hero, hm?”

“No, I don’t care about the pain or anything.”

“Then…”

“I want you to fuck me.”

“Jesus Christ,” Eddie choked. “Are you always like this or are there still some drugs in your system?”

“Dunno. Never felt like this with anyone else.”

“Stevie…”

“You’re good with them. Especially Bethany. She’s a lot. But you did good. Good for my nuggets.”

Steve was slowly losing consciousness and Eddie couldn’t help the fond smile creeping up on his face.

“They seem like good gremlins. They sure love you a lot,” Eddie whispered.

“Mhm. Love you.”

“Oh. I don’t think they know me well enough to love me yet, sweetheart, but that’s nice of you to say,” Eddie scrambled to get out, his heart flipping over in his chest at the thought that that wasn’t what Steve meant.

“No.” Steve opened his eyes, staring right at Eddie. “I do. I love you.”

It was crazy. Probably a product of his injuries, exhaustion, and drug cocktail in his system. He probably thought he loved him, but they’d only just gotten together officially.

“Eds. It’s okay. I’m just lettin’ you know how I feel. You don’t have to say it back.”

“I just. I. I think I love you too. I just don’t see how you love me.”

“‘S easy.”

Just that easy.

Like Steve would have said it whether he was in the hospital or not.

—------------

The next morning, James, Ryan, and Bethany planted themselves on Steve’s bed while Eddie explained character sheets to them.

Steve watched with a smile as all of his siblings watched Eddie in awe.

His family meant the world to him, and Eddie did too. He wanted things to always be like this.

When Eddie smiled at him over James’ shoulder a while later, he thought that maybe they would be.

[urrockstar-xe]

Steven's first v-day - s.g x gn!reader

posted feb 2nd, 2024 11:38 pm (barely made it!!)

day 2 of counting down to valentines day! I'll also be doing marc and jake versions :D hope u enjoy xo

summary: it's Steven's first valentine's day!! reader has to make it special! oh but so does Steven, of course. Not proofread, possible use of Y/n.

this is my first moonboys fic! although it's steven focused there is mentions of jake and marc also being romantically involved with reader!! if anything i wrote pertaining to DID is offensive or not cool please let me know!!

masterlist

wordcount: 0.9k

For years Steven had essentially been locked up inside Marc’s mind unknowingly, of course he caught blips, little pieces of Marc’s life, and short memories that Marc purposely shoved down to the deepest depths of their brain, yet even now with Steven fronting on his own much more often he still was missing so much. 

Steven had yet to experience any holidays, though knowing Marc wasn’t exactly a fan of any of them, he still wanted to see them for himself, feel them for himself. Even though Marc and Layla hadn’t really celebrated Valentine's Day during their marriage, Steven still felt he was missing out.

Which of course is when you come in, Steven’s first real partner, he didn’t get you all to himself, but despite sharing you with Marc and Jake, Steven knew he was your very best friend, taking out romance completely you had always been close with him. Making him feel special and loved when he needed it most, and now he has the privilege to replace “love” with “my love” when speaking to you. 

Steven just had to make this day special for you. Marc had his day earlier in the month, Jake planned for next weekend but Steven, Steven insisted he get the 14th. He needed the full experience even if it meant fighting with Donna to get off work early on a Wednesday afternoon.

Steven spent all of Tuesday night at the shops, getting chocolate and your favorite snacks, options just in case you didn’t like the snacks or candy you did previously. 

He loaded everything up into a pink basket, half believing it was actually an easter basket. Steven ignored the suspicious feeling about the basket though, dismissing it as unimportant before moving on to buy two of the books on your TBR, ignoring every mirror in the place and snarky remarks from Marc and sarcastic jokes from Jake about Steven outdoing both of them. 

It’s only Valentine’s Day, Steven.

But it was so much more than that.

But he did ditch the easter basket.

What Steven had yet to realize was that you thought so too.

Today was just as special for you as it was for Steven, because of Steven, actually.

Yes, you had loved the sweet night in with just you and Marc, but with Steven and Jake, you had planned for just a little more, it was practically Steven’s first Valentine’s Day, it had to be special, just like your Steven was.

You had hung heart-shaped decorations up on the few lights in Steven’s apartment, a vinyl you had just bought him on the record player playing softly in the background as you threw a few rose petals across the kitchen counter opting that it would be an easier cleanup then anywhere else in Steven’s cluttered (but of course, comfy) apartment. 

Looking around you were pretty stumped on what to add for decor, before deciding to rummage through some of Steven's cabinets in hopes you'd find a vase, if so, you could buy him flowers, you couldn't think of anyone who would love them more. 

“Yes!” you shouted happily as you found a vase hidden behind the bowls, now why would he have them with the bowls? You ignored the questions in your head and seemingly missed the sound of the front door opening and closing due to all of your excitement. 

“Oh my days” that you heard, the sound of Steven’s voice filled with surprise and adoration filled your ears as you turned around, not even attempting to hide your disappointment in not being able to get Steven any flowers but the moment you laid eyes on his wide eyes, and agape mouth all of it melted away, quickly replaced by a smile. 

“Surprise!” You lifted your arms as if to gesture to your surroundings as Steven finally turned to look at you. “Oh, my love, this is” He paused as he looked around again before continuing. “This is incredible.” 

You gasped at the flowers in his hands, rushing over to him and pecking his cheek before taking them from him and quickly rushing back to your vase. Well, Steven’s vase really but finders keepers and all that.

Steven looked back at you, almost in a daze as he followed your movements into the kitchen. “You got off early, I wanted to get you flowers but-” Steven cut you off as you set the pretty bouquet in the glass, “We can share” he abandoned the bag of miscellaneous snacks on petal covered counter and instead used his hands to pull you away from the fresh flowers by your waist. 

“Happy V-day, Stevie” You smiled at him, earning one back in return. “All this for me?” Steven’s voice was quieter now that you were closer, soft eyes gazing at you most lovingly. 

“It’s your first Valentine’s Day, had to make it special for you.” 

Steven responded with a hug this time, shoving his face in the crook of your neck as your hands moved to hold onto his old grandpa sweater. 

“Hey, are there any sour strips in that bag?” You asked, words muffled by his shoulder as he chuckled, leaning back just enough to see that look in your eyes that matched his perfectly. 

“Of course, there is, love.” “Oh, he loves me!” Your excited words earned an actual laugh this time and a nod of agreement. “I grabbed as many of your favorites as I could remember, only the best for my first Valentine,” Steven said, releasing his hold on you to begin emptying the bag of goodies. You didn’t take too long to join his side, quiet ohs and ahs as he set everything in front of you. 

“I was planning on cooking tonight, surprise you with dinner when you got off, but now maybe we could do it together, yeah?” Your soft tone only added to his smile.

“What’s for dinner, my love?”