#but they know their parents and uncle would want them to make the best of things
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hadesoftheladies · 7 months ago
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hate going for christian weddings sometimes because i always see the prettiest women with the ugliest men, the sermon is always some shit about wives being slaves (but not like bad slavery, mutual slavery except the husband is a benevolent master which makes it okay) and making babies for their husband, the music is always lame, the mc is always weird and obnoxious, and older women keep fucking asking me when it's gonna be my turn and never take no for an answer.
#mine#personal#brief storytime in the tags#one of my family friends got married and i was happy she was happy#her parents are like an aunt and uncle to me#i was happy to share that moment with them#we cried and laughed together#and my friends#their other daughters were on the line and looked gorgeous#it was just beautiful watching us all grow up in a way and move on to ��the next” together#BUT#im a pastor's kid#and my dad loves weddings#he drinks them in whenever he can now especially because they make him happy and he's had to attend a lot more funerals this year#he's been burdened a lot by how many people he's had to bury and how many hospital visits he's had to do#so i was happy to see him happy too#it just all felt so bittersweet to me#because i know how badly my parents want this for me and for themselves#there was a daddy-daughters dance at some point and i could feel my dad beaming beside me watching that#and i was a little sad about it because i was like im never gonna give you that#this could be the best thing i could ever give you and i will never give you this#i can never kneel at an altar in front of a pastor and swallow that sermon#i would never marry a man in my generation#if i married a woman you and almost the entire tent filled with people that watched me grow up would not attend#my happiest day would be another funeral for you#it was worse because im kind of a small celebrity in this community because of my parents and their siblings who are politicians#so people i barely knew kept coming up and asking me when it would be my turn and how they so looked forward to the day#and i was like i love that we're a community here and i missed the pestering of aunts since i left church#but at the same time i was glad to remember why i left#there is no freedom to be myself at all with them because all they do is project their beliefs and ideas on me because that's what children
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victorluvsalice · 3 months ago
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💬I'm curious about the New Severance fic (mainly because I don't think I've heard of that series) and the BITD Smiler BABS fic (Because...self indulgence)
*cracks knuckles* Okay, so, let's take these in order:
The Severance AU: Severance is a show on Apple TV from 2022 (though season 2 is coming out in 2025) about a bunch of workers for the Lumon Corporation who have undergone the titular procedure to "sever" their work and home selves (involves getting a computer chip inserted in your brain). Basically, an employee who gets severed has a home self (Outie) that doesn't remember anything about what they do at work, and a work self (Innie) that doesn't remember anything about their outside home life (like, they know basic stuff, but their personal lives are a complete blank). The Innies are in fact basically trapped on the basement floor they work on because the elevator that you use to access the floor also turns the chips on and off. So from their perspective, they get into the elevator at the end of the day -- and then immediately get out again and go back to work. The show follows the people in the "Macrodata Refinement" department (they sort numbers based on vibes, essentially) and their Innie and Outie selves as the Innies are shook up by new hire Helly R. and her desperate attempts to escape and the appearance of an outside self-help book on the Severed Floor, and the Outies (specifically Mark Scout) start to learn that Lumon is, uh, fucked up. Honestly, given how fucking weird the whole thing sounds (I haven't even gotten into the whole part where Lumon basically operates like a cult, or the Break Room -- which is not the room where you take a break...), I think the series might be your jam -- here's the Wikipedia page should you care to learn more.
ANYWAY -- I haven't actually SEEN the TV series, but I DID recently read "Welcome to the Panopticon," a BTTF/Severance fusion fic by @penny-anna that covers most of the relevant worldbuilding for the TV show while putting BTTF characters into their own version of the mess. I found the fic fascinating and inspiring, especially with all the Innie/Outie stuff, and my brain immediately decided two things:
One, I would love to do a Valicer AU with this fucked-up premise
Two, this kind of corporate malfeasance feels VERY Aperture Science.
Cue the mental creation of a currently-unnamed AU where Victor, Alice, and Smiler are severed workers working for the Macrodata Refinement department of Aperture Science! Victor's there because he was severely depressed after the death of his fiancee Victoria and their mutual friend Emily during a robbery and his parents talked him into it; Alice is there because she murdered Dr. Bumby, got caught (though she did at least expose him in the process), and was pushed into the program as a "rehabilitation effort" to make her a "productive citizen;" and Smiler -- well, Smiler was simply forced to have the procedure by their asshole father Dr. Kelman, who wanted them to do it as a PR move and to try and force them to bend to HIS wishes about their life. The idea would follow mainly the Innie versions of everyone as Smiler joins the team and makes it their job to try and keep them all from going insane down in that basement, with the trio gradually falling in love as they get to know each other (well, as much as they can when they're all amnesiac on the floor) and having adventures dealing with their weird-ass circumstances, their personality core supervisor Wheatley, and their unsevered boss Miss Glados (aka Caroline, one of the big movers and shakers of Aperture) --
And THEN managing to escape because of an incident involving the Overtime Contingency (which allows the Innies to wake up outside of the Severed Floor if the bosses really need them to for some reason), which allows them to wreck a party their Outies were attending with the real facts about Innie life -- and then the Outies get to see the Severed Floor, go "holy shit this is fucked up" and manage to escape when Chell shows up to cause chaos in the name of rescuing her old friend Wheatley... I mean, there's a LOT more detail in my head about what happens in this Hypothetical Fic Eating My Brain, but I want to actually get to the OTHER half of your question, so let's call it there for now. XD
BITD Smiler in BABS Verse: Okay, you've probably guessed that this relates back to when I asked you about VITD Smiler ending up in the "Beneath A Broken Sky" world and what you thought might happen with them and the cast. This version is a little different, as it involves a Smiler from a Blades In The Dark world that doesn't actually have a Victor or Alice in it, because I wanted to see how they'd react to the Victor and Alice who got sucked in without having any of their own. I haven't got like a FULL idea of how it would go yet, but I do have a few key items in place:
-->Smiler would end up in the BABS verse because, in this version of Duskwall, the moon is slowly but surely beginning to fall on the Shattered Isles and will eventually destroy everything, and Mar-Mal is trying to find a way to save their Advocates -- I'm thinking they manipulate a Special Tree to shoot Smiler to the BABS verse to "scout it out," so to speak
-->I picture the "local" Victor and Alice wanting to support their fellow dimensional refugee and checking in on them as they're getting settled -- and being perhaps a little concerned by how almost unnaturally cheerful Smiler is
-->I think it would be funny for Daniel to want to cast that spell that provides all the modern contemporary knowledge on Smiler, only for Victor and Alice to leap in and be like "don't, do you not remember all the vomiting when you did that to us" -- only for Mar-Mal, using their limited influence in the new universe through their connection to Smiler, to find the spell, go "oh, that looks useful," and cast it on Smiler anyway XD (though I'm picturing them managing to spare Smiler the vomiting -- not the fainting though, they still go down for the count)
-->I really have to wonder how Gef would react to Smiler -- I imagine it would be quite the thing XD
-->I imagine that Victor has some nasty nightmares after his experience with The Bleeding Eye (like, there's no actual contact by the creature again, Daniel's made sure of that, but Victor keeps having bad dreams about the "room" and the Thing in it -- can you blame him?), and Smiler eventually offers to help with their hypnosis skills -- Alice is immediately like "I want to observe to make sure this is on the up-and-up" and Smiler's like "Sure!" Cue Smiler helping Victor out, Alice being like "...wtf I didn't know that could be used for good," and the three getting closer as a result, with of course eventual romance
-->I want Smiler to go to OmegaMart, see the employees, and want to cheer them up -- mostly I want them to offer one a hug and the employee to be like ??? Smiler wants to improve happiness in this place damn it
-->Potential endgame is them finding a way to get Smiler back to their world, with Victor and Alice tagging along for a visit...only to discover the whole "moon falling on the world" thing and realize that Mar-Mal's plan is actually to evacuate the Advocates (and whoever else wants to come with) to the BABS world before everything, you know, gets smashed. Cue panicked race to get people through whatever gateway they got open before the end
Basically, it's just me going "I want that version of Smiler to cause Even More Shenanigans in that world" right now. XD
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skrunksthatwunk · 2 years ago
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haruka should be allowed to be mad at kiryu tbh
#not just in y6 but like all the time#dont get me wrong i LOVE them and i love them being sweet and happy and i love kiryu being a good dad ok#but kiryu is uh. not always the best. in ways that i think she should be upset about#and i think the canon narrative doesnt rlly wanna address that bc kiryu is trying so hard and that effort must be forgiven#and for a happy ending to occur the family must be reunited#and i get that but like. haruka's side of the story is often ignored completely#or else boils down to unconditional daughter love in ways that are supposed to be admirable#and again. i love these two dearly. i love them very very much. but i think that tension should be explored#their relationship would be Very Complex and i think it would be Messy tbh. not like screaming fighting per se but i think haruka should be#allowed some moments of Uncle Kaz Im Sick Of Your Shit type stuff#im not even sure why i feel this way specifically bc i know i used to have reasons for it but like. yeah#even if you dont think haruka's justified or that she's missing some details/perspective or whatever i think she should be hurt and upset#about some of The Bullshit. baby girl needs therapy she needs some support and sometimes kiryu just. idk.#anyway go listen to welly boots by the amazing devil. thats basically my thesis statement#look maybe I'm just projecting my own daddy issues or whatever idk. maybe more people should do that with them like. shit#I'll do it someday I'll make that content i swear#sorry thinkjng about the unconditional daughter love again. she's kind of an ideal. she's a fantasy sometimes of a daughter figure who will#always understand how hard you're trying and be cute and love you no matter what. does that make sense??? and it's like. like i almost feel#bad for knocking that bc i get parents are under a lot of stress but i think she should have that power and that agency to be upset with#him. idk if im making sense. she's reduced to the Ideal Daughter and i want her to be loving and kind but with some moments of bitterness
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blkkizzat · 4 months ago
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COME PUT THAT MILLI★N D★LLAR PU$$Y ON ME, MAKE ME RICH!
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FARMHAND!TOJI X BIMBOBUNNY!READER
☼ summary: au. a quiet farm life and a young pretty thing—what more could an ex-con want? you're a bit of a brat, but that can be fixed too. ☼ wc: 4.0k ☼ cw: age gap, panty flashing, voyeurism, brat!reader, fantasizing, spit play, biting, hickies, breeding kink, olfactophilia, teasing, perverted toji, morally ambiguous toji, creampies, squirting, unprotected, pet names: Bunny and standard p in v stuff. ☼ a/n: idk y'all farmhand!toji possessed my mind. literally did this all in tumblr drafts again today. Lets see if tumblr actually lets me post this or cucks me again.
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FarmHand!Toji who only got the job in the first place because of a prison rehabilitation program. It was either work on a farm or rot in a cell for another 2 years.
Toji chose the farm.
The work wasn't easy, but Toji couldn't complain. It was a very large farm, secluded and he was paid well—but most importantly?
It kept his fuckin' P.O. off his back.
Toji works on the farm for three grueling months until you, the farmer's niece, arrives for the summer to also work.
Well, 'work' wasn't really the right word, because you never did any thing of the sort.
Barely, 19 and kicked out of your house for smoking pot. Your parents sent you to your uncle, hoping the hard work and the ex-cons he had working for him would scare you straight. Additionally, due to the fact your Uncle had no wife and no kids, the sole owner of a large farm, the old bastard was pretty well off. As the only child of your dad, his only sibling, farm would eventually be left to you.
Everyone (not like you had a say) agreed you should know how to run it.
But the thing is—you suck at everything.
You're too flighty to work with the chickens, too prissy clean the pig cages and you'd complain you'd break a nail just from lifting an empty bucket—so milking cows were also out of the question.
Yet you still managed to get your work done.
Precisely cause you weren't the one doing it.
Aware of your youthful looks and charms, you don't hesitate to use them to your advantage.
Your shapely curves are always clad in some in a thin wispy dress, which would turn damn near see-through at the smallest bit of moisture. Wearing no bra and the tiniest of panties, you were always giving a show.
No you weren't scared of these ex-cons in the least bit.
Evident by the way you flounce around the farm, unabashfully, pretending to do the chores the women-starved prisoners were too eager to do for you.
For their efforts you reward them with smiles, blown kisses and sugary words. Sometimes for rewards came in the form of a peach you would sneak them from your uncle's grove.
Always bringing one for yourself you'd sensually bite into the ripen fruit. Allowing its juices to linger on your cherry-glossed lips and dribble down your chin—the slurping noises are the perfect fapping fodder for them.
Yet the best prize of all—and only if you were feeling particularly generous—a flash of panties.
Toji though had not fallen for your charms though.
Not that he wasn't susceptible to them, hell naw—he wanted to bend your pretty ass over the nearest fence and roughly fuck some decency, along with manners into your haughty lil' cunt.
But Toji, as well as any of the prisoners, knew better than to touch you. Not only were they risking their freedom, with even the slightest offense here was enough to send them back to the pen—they were also risking their lives.
Your uncle was no fool. The older man regularly carried a sawed off shotgun slung over his shoulder, which used to be a pistol before you arrived.
The farmer didn't make it a big announcement, simply reminding them it was prison or a grave if they fucked this opportunity up—but the underlying message was crystal clear:
He'd blow anyone to hell who even thought about touching his niece.
Oh, but Toji did think about touching you—alot.
Often staying up late in his shared bunk room—jerking his cock to a frilly pair of panties of yours he'd stolen off the laundry line—once he was sure the others had gone to bed.
Toji wants to teach you a lesson badly.
Not for your benefit though, it be payback for all your goddamn teasing.
Toji isn't a pushover for you.
Nicknaming you 'Bunny' since you were such a clumsy lil ditz. He often made his silly lil bunny do whatever work he was stationed at when you had chores there—yours and his.
And oh, you hated that. You only tried harder when none of your pouts, provocations and seductions move him. It was pure hell, but Toji had resisted every trick you had. An unintended benefit however, was that he'd likely seen every pair of panties you owned by now (which is why he had stolen his favorite).
At one point, when you were particularly annoying one day, Toji even tried straight up ignoring you.
Yet that didn't work either.
You only upped the ante, 'accidentally' spilling a whole bucket of cow's milk on yourself. The very color of your perky nips are clearly visible, poking through the now transparent fabric which clings to you like second skin.
Staring Toji dead in his eyes, a coy smile on your plump lips as your pink manicured nails rubbed circles over your soaked nubs.
It took everything Toji had in him that day not to force you down to the dirt floor, fucking your pussy open just as hard and flithy as you'd been asking for.
Turning away from you, he threw a hay laden blanket over you and told you to go back up to the house n' clean up.
Toji didn't miss how badly you pouted, even though he pretended not to care. You reluctantly listened to him, leaving the barn and back to the main house up the hill.
You were both playing with fire.
Yet from that point something broke in Toji.
He still never crosses the line to touching you, but he'd starts pushing your buttons.
He wants to rile you up just as you had him.
As a result, Toji is working around you without a shirt more often—sometimes even with a raging hard on in full view. Also he doesn't hold back any longer from any of the vulgar thoughts of you that cross his mind. Regularly vocalizing them with a smirk, making overtly perverted comments towards you.
This was even something the other prisoners were too pussy to do to, given the very real threats of your farmer uncle.
Yet Toji wouldn't be a two-time ex-con he is if he didn't mind gambling with his life for a big reward. Toji relishes in your flustered, indignant reactions, loving to see how your face heats up everytime without fail every time he teases his lil' slut, his sultry voice whispering things like:
"I bet y'er cunt is riper than those peaches, Bunny."
"Bunny—think your pretty pussy can squirt more milk than these cow udders?"
"I wonder if my lil' Bunny can actually ride dick, since she's not half bad on a horse?"
You'd call him a 'perverted old man' like you weren't anything more than just a causal cocktease yourself—obviously you get some sick satisfaction knowing you had every man on this farm but Toji at your beck and call.
In reality, you were just as twisted in nature as him.
Still you were stubborn.
And as retaliation for his resistance, you play all manners of pranks on Toji. Doing anything you could so it was harder for him to do his job—from stealing his work gloves, boots and tools—to more serious ones like letting a weasel loose in the chicken coop when it was his shift to collect the eggs.
You deemed it your right to punish him for teasing you, for not becoming one of your simps and most fiendish of all?
Making you actually do work.
You harass him so often, it's not long before Toji realizes you're seeking him out intentionally.
Not even bothering to visit the other workstations where your chores are, they would get done by your lil'fan boys regardless, in favor of following him around all day like a lost lil' chick.
On a particularly hot n' sweltering summer day, Toji is stuck with the job of moving machinery from one side of the farm to the other when the sun is at its highest.
Like usual, he's since removed his sweat-drenched work shirt—remaining only in unhooked overalls and his briefs.
Toji hasn't seen you though, which isn't surprising given how broiling it is outside. Someone with as delicate a disposition as you, who also happened to be as manipulative, probably convinced your uncle to let you laze around inside the house, away from the heat—and Toji.
But you were a needy little thing, always seeking attention. Toji occupies his thoughts for most of the morning imagining you growing so bored, not having him to harass and all day.
With idle hands and absolutely nothing else to do, you'd start playing with that plump lil' pussy of yours, wouldn't you?
A supple girl like you had to overflow like a dam. Toji would bet money you'd already be wet enough, even untouched, to drench his fingers—just from palming your ripe pussy in his hand.
He wouldn't mind taking more than a sip of you on a miserable day like this to quench his thirst.
Continuing his work (and lewd thoughts of you) until his break, Toji discovers he's misplaced his work shirt.
Searching for it in the heat proves annoying—it's not on the grazing pasture fences, nor in the workshed by the machines. Tsk, he swore he had taken it with him to his last station near the horses.
Passing by the cow barn, Toji hasn't had a shift in there today but he absentmindedly remembers there's was a water hose in there. He could at least cool off for the remainder of his break—maybe even rub one out to you.
However, upon sliding open the Toji's smirk grows almost bigger than the hefty cock in his pants.
Looks like he hit the jackpot, today.
There you were in the middle the of the barn, on your back in the hay, thin dress bunched up past your hips and panties dangling off one of your shapely legs—all while feverishly fingering your fat wet lil' cunt.
You salaciously had even dripped a dark sizeable puddle on the dusty floor beneath you.
But the cherry on top?
You're quite shamelessly moaning out cries of his name, uncaring of who could happen to passby and hear you.
'T-Toji!'
'T-Toji, fuck me harder, Daddy!'
All while your pretty angelic face is twisted in pleasure, eyes closed and nose buried deep in the fabric of his soiled work shirt.
Daddy? Oh how fucking filthy of you—God you were perfect slut, just his fuckin' type.
Solely focused on cumming, your hips thrust up desperately to meet your fingers as he stalks closer to you—looking every bit of the predatory ex-convict he is.
"Well, well look at what we got ourselves here doll....n'here I thought the only degenerates on this farm were us prisoners?"
Your eyes widen in shock, but you don't stop your fingers right away. You were so close to your release before Toji suddenly appeared in front of you, there's no way you could physically stop chasing it now.
Not when it only takes a lingering glance at his dark features, muscular tanned sweat slick body, and the painfully obvious way his dick jumps in his pants to have you falling over the edge. You gush, mewling as you cream around your delicate lil' fingers.
"You've been a very naughty lil' bunny..."
Sheepishly pulling them out, covered in your slick, Toji's eyes zero in on the way your hole still gapes open. You're cunt quite literally throbbing for more, you'd cum but she's still left unsated.
You clearly needed something much bigger and harder than your flimsy little digits.
You unconsciously back up deeper into the bushels of hay around, putting distance between you as Toji gets closer.
"Tsk, tsk, nuh-uh Bunny, none of that shit. Not when I just caught you being such a whore for me."
You gulp, your heart racing as he crouches over you. Toji removes his work gloves, discarding them as he forces you to lay back on the soft hay.
“How sweet of you to prep yourself for me babydoll. But, Bunny, you dumb little girl, you’re too careless. What if it wasn’t me who walked in 'ere and saw you playing with my pussy?”
You didn't think of that, when you had so brazenly snuck up without him noticing to nab his work shirt.
Initially, you wanted to just be annoying to him again, too bored of being in the house all morning. At first you recoiled when you touched his soggy shirt, yet that all flipped once you caught of whiff of his scent.
Toji smelled of a farm but somehow that smell mixed with sweat, musk and notes of his aftershave hit you straight in your cunt. Your panties becoming just as drenched as the shirt in your hands.
You didn't realize Toji, grimy from farm work, could still smell so good.
Knowing it was far past the time for anyone to come milk cows, you headed straight to that barn. You just wanted some alone time, where you'd be free to touch yourself while thinking of the ridiculously sexy ex-con farmhand.
To say Toji had been plaguing your thoughts and dreams for the past few weeks would have been a massive understatement. You were obsessed with him. Him and his irritatingly smug expression, accentuated by his scar that made him appear all the more dangerous—you wanted him to fuck you—your uncles warnings be damned.
"You tryna get me to do more time, girl? Ya know Bunny, I'd kill anyone who touched you, if your uncle didn't get to 'em first."
Your face is hot with embarrassment but your cunt is also burning up—thinking you might die if he doesn’t actually touch you soon.
Letting his coveralls drop unceremoniously to the floor, he shrugs off his remaining clothes.
Toji's calloused hands, smudged with oil and grime, grab your hips and yank you to him. You yelp and his cock twitches even harder at your cute lil noises, smearing pre on your already soaked thighs.
Toji presses his sweaty body onto yours. It's cool in the barn but Toji's heat is so intense you feel like you are out in the sun again. Having him on top of you like this finally is overwhelming your senses. Toji is intoxicating and you're so feral with need for him it makes you dizzier than a heatstroke.
Fuck, you looked so ready for him.
He'd love you take his time to really break you in—make you fall apart until he's screwed every word out of your head but his own name.
Tch—but there's about 10 more minutes left of his break—and a good 15 or so more after that before anyone notices he's not where he should be.
Toji would reluctantly have to make this quick. Snatching your dress off overhead, he tosses it across the barn.
Mouth latching to one of your stiffened nipples, Toji simultaneously bullies his cockhead past your entrance, sinking into your slippery cunt.
Both of your collective groans fill the barn.
Goddamn, you're fuckin' tight.
Your eyes go wide and moisture pricks your vision as the sting of his girthy cock splitting you open nearly brakes you. You weren't a virgin by any means, and you knew Toji was huge—but shit—it was way bigger in thickness and length than you could have imagined.
Toji has to physically take your legs and wrap them around his body so they stop convulsing.
You whine for him to wait a moment but he couldn't—he didn't have the time.
Toji cups your face, unintentionally smearing dirt across your warm pristine lil' cheek.
"Daddy doesn't have time to wait for ya Bunny, can't get caught by y'er mean ole uncle, yeah?"
"*sniffs* I-I know, b-but—"
"No buts, baby—you want me to fuck ya, rite? Then just lay back and be good doll—promise I'll make ya feel good, eh?"
You can't stop the tears that roll down your cheeks, the burning still evident in your cunt as your walls spasm around him. Toji nuzzles your neck, grunts fanning across your sweetly scented skin as he begins moving his hips.
Soon the sounds of wet flesh smacking, resound in the barn with every harsh thrust of Toji's broad hips. The sloppy squelching noises your pussy cries out has Toji feeling like she's talking directly to him.
Sweat drips off his brow and onto your face as he pulls back a bit to see just how well your slutty lil' hole is globbling him right up—you already frothing a ring of cream around his base like such a good girl—like you were made to take his dick.
Your teeth bite into his shoulder and your nails rake red streaks across his back when his fat cockhead brushes against your g-spot.
Instantly, the shocks vibrating in your cunt overtake any remaining discomfort from your pussy accommodating his massive cock. Your tiddies bounce violently whe he picks up speed rocking into your cunt—spurred on by your cute bites gnawing into him.
Toji would mark you up similarly.
God you were so fuckin' wet though, milking him so well.
For all the trouble you gave him your lil' pussy was obedient as hell once she got a lil' dick in her.
"T-Tojiiiii, puh-leaseee k-kiss me, Daddy!"
Slurring, you gaze up at him, eyes blown out in pleasure begging for more of him—for anything he'd give you.
"Yeah, baby, Bunny wants Daddy to kiss her, hm?"
You frantically nod, your whole body is tingling. You just want to feel him consume you completely, all parts of you.
"Heh, of course I'll kiss my lil' bunny—only if ya let me cum ya—m-motherfuck—ya know how long its been since I had pussy this good doll? Gotta cum in 'er."
Mewling under him, you're easily left at his mercy—yet Toji would show you none, devouring you just as greedily as you wanted him to. Your body responds so well to his praises, so needy for them and Toji doesn't mind indulging you when you're being this sweet for him.
Throwing your legs onto his shoulders, Toji raises your ass off the hay onto his knees as he folds your body in half—fucking into you deeper, abusing your cervix as he smashed his lips onto yours.
Truthfully, there's no way in hell Toji would pull out now.
Making the decision for you, the kiss Toji gives you is searing hot. Sucking on your tongue, Toji has you melting you completely under him, your pussy clamping harder around him. His deviant tongue and heavy cock fucking you into submission.
Hell, she was begging him to cum in her even if you weren't or couldn't—you looked absolutely gone—like not even the smallest thought lived in your fucked out lil' head.
Even when Toji pulls back to allow you air his lips never leave yours, biting your kiss swollen bottom lip almost to the point of drawing blood.
You tighten even more than Toji thought possible in the moment once he forced your mouth open and spits into it and your instantly swallowing it—sticking your tongue out for more.
Oh? Bunny becomes such a dirty whore once you're fucking her silly, eh?
Toji wonders what else of his you'd swallow. He'd save that for next time though.
For now Toji had to finish you, he was running out of time. Besides, he was speaking true earlier, he really hadn't had good pussy—pussy at all—in literal fuckin' years. Toji didn't think he could last much longer in a hole with as much wet suction as yours, even if he did have more time.
Slipping a hand between your slick bodies, Toji is now furiously thumbing circles on your sensitive clit.
"C'mon, Bunny baby, cum for Daddy, yeah? Squirt on this dick, just like you did your fingers earlier, doll."
Your body, utterly under the spell of his engorged cock which was currently digging into your kidneys, can't do anything but obey him.
Tumbling over your peak, you do as he asks, splashing fluids onto his pelvis, abs and chest with how much squirt he has gushing out of you.
Your head lulls back and Toji has to clasp his hand over your mouth from how loud you started screaming.
His own release follows soon after. Pumping his extra-thick load, all built up and saved over the years for a pussy as sweet as yours, into your well-fucked-open cunt.
Curses and swears pour out of Toji's mouth as remains side you, still pistoning in you with fervor through both your orgasms. Toji doesn't leave the snug warmth of your gooey core until you squeezed out every single drop he had to give you.
Pulling out, Toji immediately rolls over next to you as not to crush you further. Yet, like a magnet, his needy lil' bunny is curling up against his side, a sleepy sated expression on your angelic face.
Toji hated to leave, but he had to haul ass now if he wasn't gonna get caught.
A crude form of aftercare, but Toji hoses the both of you down.
The cold water snapping you from your lethargic afterglow immediately as you pouted and whined—the brat in you almost instantly returning.
But Toji couldn't just let you sleep ass naked, covered in his cum in the hay for your uncle to find you or worse—another prisoner to find you.
Toji was serious. He really would kill someone if they tried anything with you, he'd taken many innocent lives before as a former hitman—he had no qualms killing some no good convicts.
Setting you upright, Toji finds your dress in the hay and puts it on you. It's soiled and dusty but he straightens it enough so you're at least halfway presentable.
Toji knows you're clever enough to think of a lie if questioned further.
Although, you'd better back to the main house quickly, in case those hickies he gave you start showing up. Toji smirks to himself.
Sending you on your way with quick sloppy kiss and a firm smack on the ass, he lets you leave first.
After waiting a few minutes, Toji exits the barn, grinning devilishly upon seeing you.
You're halfway back up the hill to the house by now, but you still steal glances back at him every few paces. Still panting, you're too shy now to meet his own eyes for longer than a second with your coy smiles.
Toji chuckles.
He had you hooked.
Hah, a slut like you? You'd probably be begging for his cock all throughout the day from now on.
However, Toji knows if he keeps fucking you like this he'll soon get you pregnant.
But ya know? That might not be half bad though.
This simple farm life had been a nice change of pace.
And who wouldn't want a young n' tender cunt like yours to dump in daily? Toji would keep you stuffed full, belly round with his kids and soft tiddies full of milk—for his consumption only.
Toji muses once he had finished fucking the brat out of you, Bunny, you'd become the perfect lil' wifey.
It be good for Megumi to have a mom again and some siblings to keep em busy. Toji would finally have a decent place to raise him too, away from the city and his toxic as fuck family who'd Megumi had been with since the first time his dad got locked in the slammer.
Not to mention—the farm was a perfect cover for his con activities that he couldn't wait to back start up.
He'd only able to do so much with the burner phone Shiu smuggled-in for him, concealing in a shipment of animal feed.
Heh.
All Toji needed now was to knock you up, apply pressure on your strict, God-fearing parents to agree to the marriage, and then orchestrate an 'untimely and unfortunate accident' for your uncle. Thereby leaving the farm and the substantial inheritance to you—and by proxy—to him.
Yeah, FarmHand!Toji planned to become Farmer!Toji real soon.
©blkkizzat 2024. do not steal works or gfx, do not translate.
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☼ a/n: y'all toji be making me write the most twisted nastiest things for him. i realize soft toji just don't do it for me like depraved toxic morally corrupt toji does, i really would let this man ruin my credit fr y'all, he can have it all.
i didn't expect to write this, all in a day but im at the beck and call of my main mans. otaku!gojo and nerd!gero lovers dun hurt me. taglist in reblogs.
☼ comments and reblogs appreciated ‪‪❤︎‬
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reidmarieprentiss · 3 months ago
Text
Not Her
Summary: Reader can't figure out why Spencer doesn't like her, Spencer doesn't know how to tell her it's not her fault.
Pairing: Spencer Reid x BAU fem!reader
Category: fluff, angst
Warnings/Includes: camping, being stuck, wilderness, swimming in underwear, teasing, talks of bullying, insecurities, mild aggression from a male (not spencer), small injury
Word count: 16.6k
a/n: i want to go camping with spencer sooo bad he would be so nerdy and useful
main masterlist
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From the moment you joined the BAU, it was obvious that you were entering a tightly knit group. The closeness between the team members was clear, and while you didn’t expect to be everyone’s best friend right off the bat, you were determined to fit in. You took time to get to know everyone, learning their quirks, their likes, and dislikes, hoping to carve out your place within the team.
With Derek, you found an easy-going rapport. His playful nature and quick wit made it easy to banter back and forth. JJ was kind and welcoming, often making a point to include you in conversations or to check in on how you were adjusting. Penelope was a whirlwind of energy, and it wasn’t long before you found yourself swept up in her vibrant world of tech and color. Rossi felt like a wise uncle who loved everyone on the team as his own. Alex was someone who acted as an older sister to you and whom you looked up to very much, and Hotch, though stern, had a way of making you feel like you were a valuable part of the team.
But Spencer Reid… he was different.
From the start, there was a disconnect. It wasn’t as if he was openly hostile or dismissive—he was far too professional for that. But there was something in the way he avoided your gaze during meetings, or how he seemed to drift to the opposite side of the room whenever you entered. You had caught him, more than once, excusing himself from a conversation as you approached, as if the mere prospect of talking to you was something he couldn’t bear.
At first, you tried to brush it off, convincing yourself that he was just shy or perhaps overwhelmed by the demands of the job. After all, you knew that Spencer wasn’t the most socially adept person in the world. But as time went on, the distance between you and him became more apparent, and it started to gnaw at you.
You didn’t need everyone to like you. You had learned long ago that such a goal was impossible, especially in a high-stakes environment like the BAU. But the way Spencer acted around you—like he could barely stand to be in the same room—was something you couldn’t ignore. You were both professionals, and you could work together when necessary, but it was clear that there was a barrier between you, one that wasn’t present with the rest of the team.
You found yourself replaying your interactions with him over and over in your mind, trying to pinpoint where things had gone wrong. Was it something you had said? Something you had done? Had you offended him without realizing it? Every smile you offered that went unreturned, every attempt at conversation that fizzled out into uncomfortable silence, only deepened the mystery.
The whole team could see the ridge between you and Spencer, but no one was any more privy to its cause than you were. Naturally, they had asked, each of them trying to get to the bottom of the tension, but Spencer always brushed it off, insisting he had nothing against you. And technically, he wasn’t lying—it wasn’t you he had a problem with.
The team had noticed the rift between you and Spencer early on. It was impossible to ignore, especially in a group as close-knit as the BAU. And so, they took it upon themselves to try and bridge the gap, often resorting to what they jokingly referred to as “parent trapping” the two of you.
Whenever the team needed to double up on rooms during cases, you and Spencer were always the ones paired together. If there were assignments to be handled in pairs, it was somehow always the two of you that got teamed up. On the jet or at the round table, there would only be one spot left for each of you, forcing you to sit side by side. And then there were the bar nights—group outings where, mysteriously, everyone else would bail out at the last minute, leaving just you and Spencer nursing your drinks awkwardly.
But despite their best efforts, nothing seemed to work. Spencer wasn’t warming up to you, no matter how many times you ended up in forced proximity. The wall between you remained as solid as ever, and eventually, you stopped trying to break through it. You resigned yourself to the fact that whatever issue he had with you, it wasn’t something you could change. 
However, Rossi—always the wise, seasoned veteran—was not ready to give up just yet. He had one last trick up his sleeve, one final attempt to get you and Spencer to break through the barrier between you. 
A team bonding camping excursion.
It was the perfect setup. Out in the wilderness, away from the usual comforts and distractions of your everyday lives, you would all be forced to rely on each other. And maybe, just maybe, the isolation would do what all the previous attempts had failed to achieve. 
But here’s the final kicker—when the day of the camping trip arrived, everyone else conveniently piled into cars together, leaving you and Spencer to drive alone in your car. You noticed the sly looks exchanged between your teammates as they handed out the keys, but before you could protest, Spencer was already sliding into the passenger seat of your vehicle.
Just as you were about to follow the convoy of cars out of the parking lot, Rossi strolled over to your window, an easygoing smile on his face. He handed you a printed sheet of directions, different from the ones the others had received. 
"Just in case you get separated," he said with a wink, his tone far too innocent. 
You couldn't shake the feeling that Rossi had planned this down to the last detail. Of course, you and Spencer wouldn’t just be separated from the group—you’d be on an entirely different route, one that would give you no choice but to spend even more time together, alone and without the safety net of your other teammates.
As you pulled out of the lot, Spencer sat quietly beside you, his eyes trained on the passing scenery. The silence in the car was heavy, almost suffocating, but there was nothing you could do now. You were in this together, whether either of you liked it or not. 
And as the miles stretched out ahead of you, you couldn’t help but wonder what Rossi had in mind, and if this final trick up his sleeve would finally be the one to force Spencer to open up—or if it would just deepen the divide between you.
The campsite was a solid three hours away, and while the drive was scenic enough, it didn't change the fact that you had a small bladder and a penchant for drinking a lot of water and coffee. It was inevitable that you'd need to make a pit stop before reaching your destination. 
As you glanced at the time on the dashboard and then at the half-empty travel mug in the cupholder, you sighed internally. You’d need to pull over soon. The thought of having to break the silence yet again didn’t exactly thrill you, but the discomfort was starting to outweigh your hesitation.
“Reid,” you said, breaking the quiet that had settled over the car. “I’m going to stop and use the restroom. Want me to grab you anything?”
Spencer, who had been quietly absorbed in the book he was reading, glanced up briefly, his expression neutral. “No, thank you,” he replied politely before returning his attention to the pages in front of him.
You nodded, even though he wasn’t looking at you, and pulled off at the next rest stop. As you parked and unbuckled your seatbelt, you tried not to dwell on the strained exchange. It wasn’t much different from the countless other interactions you’d had with Spencer—brief, polite, and devoid of any real connection. 
You’d been driving for what felt like ages, the occasional road sign the only indication that you were getting closer to your destination. You were determined to reach the campsite without any further detours, but the unfamiliar roads and winding paths made it easy to second-guess yourself.
“Reid,” you said, breaking the silence again that had settled back over the car like a heavy blanket. “I think we’re getting close. Can you give me directions, please?”
Spencer looked up from his book, blinking a few times as he refocused on the world outside. “Yeah,” he replied simply, his voice still carrying that same detached tone.
He reached for the directions Rossi had given you earlier, unfolding the paper and scanning the instructions. His finger traced the lines of text as he read through the details, his brow furrowing slightly as he calculated the next turn.
“Take the next left,” he instructed, his eyes flicking up to the road ahead. “And then, after about two miles, there should be a right turn onto a dirt road. That should lead us directly to the campsite.”
“Got it,” you said, following his directions carefully, hoping that this final stretch would be as straightforward as he made it sound.
As you turned onto the narrow, winding road Spencer had pointed out, the trees began to close in around you, their dense foliage casting dappled shadows on the path. The silence returned, punctuated only by the occasional rustle of leaves or the distant call of a bird. You glanced over at Spencer, who was once again absorbed in his book, his focus seemingly unshakeable.
You couldn’t help but wonder what was going through his mind. Did he realize how obvious the team’s attempts at pushing you two together were? Or was he simply indifferent to it all, content to keep you at arm’s length? 
“Okay…” you mumbled under your breath as you pulled into what looked like a campsite. The trees parted just enough to reveal a small clearing, but the emptiness of it made you hesitate. The gravel crunched under the tires as you rolled to a stop, and you squinted through the windshield, scanning the area. “This should be the place… Do you see anyone else?”
Spencer lifted his gaze from his book, his eyes narrowing as he looked around the deserted clearing. “Uh, no. No, I do not.”
A sinking feeling settled in your stomach. You leaned forward, double-checking the area, but it was clear—you and Spencer were the only ones there. “Did I take a wrong turn?”
“Not according to the directions,” Spencer replied, his voice calm but not particularly reassuring.
You let out a slow breath, trying to push down the rising anxiety. “Maybe we beat them here?”
“That’s unlikely,” Spencer said, his tone matter-of-fact. “Due to the number of times you pulled over for the restroom.”
You couldn’t help the slight flush that crept up your neck at his blunt observation. “Right,” you said, your voice tight as you tried to figure out what to do next. “So… what do we do now? Should we wait for them to show up?”
Spencer hesitated, his eyes flicking back to the directions. “It’s possible they took a different route. But considering how empty this place is, I’d say we’re either very early, or we’re not at the right site.”
You sighed, running a hand through your hair, feeling the weight of the situation settling on your shoulders. “Great. Just great. I’ll give Rossi a call,” you muttered, more to yourself than to Spencer, as you reached for your phone. The screen lit up, but when you glanced at the signal bar, your stomach dropped—no signal. “Uh, do you happen to have a signal on your cellphone?”
Spencer pulled his phone from his pocket and checked, his brow furrowing as he studied the screen. After a moment, he sighed, the sound tinged with resignation. “Nope.”
“Fantastic,” you said, the sarcasm barely masking your frustration. “Should we wait for a bit and see if anyone else shows up?”
Spencer considered the suggestion, his gaze drifting back to the empty clearing. “That seems like the best choice right now,” he agreed, his voice steady but lacking any real optimism.
With nothing else to do, you both settled into the uncomfortable silence, the quiet only broken by the occasional rustle of leaves in the wind. The minutes stretched on, each one feeling longer than the last as you both kept your eyes on the road, hoping to see the rest of the team’s cars pull in. But the road remained empty, and the only company you had was the uneasy tension that had settled between you.
If this was Rossi’s idea of getting you and Spencer to bond, it was off to a rocky start.
The campsite in front of you looked serene and peaceful, bathed in the soft light filtering through the towering trees. The fire pit in the center was surrounded by a few scattered logs, perfect for sitting around and enjoying the warmth of a campfire. Despite its picturesque setting, the site was eerily empty, with no sign of the team anywhere.
Eventually, you heard the sound of Spencer unbuckling his seatbelt and getting out of the car. The soft click of the door opening made you glance over. “What are you doing?” you asked, a hint of curiosity in your voice.
“Getting out,” Spencer replied simply as he stepped onto the gravel. “I want to stretch my legs.”
You nodded, realizing that was a good idea. “Yeah, good idea,” you agreed, your tone a bit lighter now. The tension of being cooped up in the car with nothing but silence between you two was beginning to wear on you. 
You both got out of the car, the fresh air a welcome change after the long drive. As you stood there, taking in the surroundings, you couldn’t help but feel a bit more relaxed. The forest around you was alive with the sounds of nature—the rustling of leaves, the distant chirping of birds, and the faint crackle of the fire pit from when it was last used.
Spencer moved toward the center of the campsite, his hands tucked into his pockets as he looked around. “It’s a nice spot,” he commented, his voice carrying a hint of appreciation.
You walked a little closer to him, scanning the area for any signs of the team. “Yeah,” you agreed, though the emptiness still gnawed at you. “But it’s weird that no one else is here yet.”
Spencer nodded, his brow furrowing slightly. “Maybe they’re just running late. Or they took a different route like I said before.”
You glanced back at the car, then around the site again. It was hard to shake the feeling that something was off, but there wasn’t much you could do about it now. “Well, at least it’s peaceful,” you said, trying to focus on the positive.
Spencer gave a small nod, seemingly content to stand there in the stillness of the forest. Despite the lingering uncertainty, there was something calming about the solitude, and for a moment, the silence between you felt less strained and more comfortable.
As the sun dipped lower behind the trees, casting long shadows across the campsite, you felt a growing sense of unease. The emptiness of the site was now coupled with the approaching darkness, and you couldn’t shake the feeling that something wasn’t right. You finally voiced your concern, unable to keep it to yourself any longer. “Spencer, they’re obviously not coming. Should we drive around? Look for a fire? Or just head home?”
Spencer, who had been pacing slightly near the car, stopped and looked at you, his expression conflicted. “I don’t—I don’t know what we should do,” he admitted, his voice wavering slightly, a rare display of uncertainty from him.
You bit your lip, weighing the options. None of them seemed particularly appealing, especially as the light continued to fade. “Okay… do you just want to set up here for the night and figure it out in the morning?”
“Umm… yeah,” he agreed after a moment, though his tone was far from confident. “Do you mind if I sleep in the car?”
That caught you off guard. “Sure…” you replied slowly, trying to mask your surprise. Spencer had always been an enigma, but this felt particularly strange. It wasn’t like him to be so unsettled.
Alas, you pushed the oddness aside and decided to focus on the practical. You set about pitching your tent, the familiar motions calming your nerves slightly. Once it was up, you ducked inside to change into your pajamas, eager to get a fire going and start making some food. The pangs of hunger were beginning to make themselves known, and you knew you needed to eat something soon.
When you emerged from the tent, you glanced over at Spencer, who was standing by the car, arms crossed, looking even more out of place than usual. “Spencer, you can use my tent to change if you want,” you offered, trying to bridge the gap between you.
“No thank you, I’m fine,” he replied quickly, almost too quickly. His refusal struck you as odd, adding to the growing list of things that didn’t seem right about this situation.
“Would you mind getting the cooler from the boot then?” you asked, hoping to keep things moving forward, even if everything else felt off.
Spencer nodded and moved to the back of the car, retrieving the cooler with a quiet efficiency. But as you started preparing the food, you couldn’t help but notice how closely he was watching you. His gaze was intense, almost as if he was studying you—or perhaps watching out for something.
It was unsettling, to say the least. You tried to brush it off, focusing on the task at hand, but it was difficult to ignore the prickling sensation of being observed so intently. “Everything okay?” you asked casually as you stirred the food, hoping to ease some of the tension.
Spencer blinked, seeming to snap out of whatever thoughts had been occupying his mind. “Yeah,” he said, though his tone wasn’t entirely convincing. 
You paused for a moment, considering his words. While it wasn’t unusual for Spencer to be cautious, the way he was acting now felt different—like he was on edge, anticipating something. “Let’s eat and get some rest. We’ll figure everything out in the morning.”
He nodded, but the unease didn’t leave his eyes. As you finished cooking and began to serve up the food, you couldn’t help but wonder what had Spencer so spooked—and whether you should be more concerned than you already were.
That night, Spencer stuck to his word and slept in the car with the doors locked. You couldn’t help but feel a little puzzled by his behavior—he seemed so on edge, far more than you’d ever seen him, and it left you wondering why he had agreed to come camping in the first place. The idea of him spending the night in a locked car instead of enjoying the fresh air and the open sky was odd, to say the least. 
But despite the lingering unease, you slept surprisingly well. Camping had always been something you loved—the scent of the pine trees, the sounds of the forest, the cool breeze that swept through the tent—all of it made you feel at peace. The night was quiet, save for the occasional rustling of leaves and the distant hoot of an owl, and you drifted off easily, wrapped in your sleeping bag.
When you woke the next morning, the sun was already casting a warm glow over the campsite. You stretched, feeling refreshed, and emerged from your tent to find Spencer already awake. He was crouched by a small fire, a pot of instant coffee brewing over the flames. The sight of him tending to the fire, his movements precise and deliberate, was a little surprising. It was clear that he hadn’t slept much—if at all.
“Good morning,” you mumbled, rubbing the sleep from your eyes as you walked over to him.
“Morning,” Spencer replied, his voice calm but still carrying that edge of tension.
You sat down on one of the logs near the fire, enjoying the warmth it provided as you shook off the last remnants of sleep. “How’d you sleep?” you asked, trying to gauge his mood.
“Fine,” he answered shortly, though you weren’t convinced. “You?”
“Really good,” you said with a small smile. “I love the fresh air. There’s just something about being out here that makes everything feel better.”
Spencer nodded, his gaze fixed on the pot of coffee as he stirred it. “Yeah, fresh air is good,” he said absently, though his tone lacked the enthusiasm you had.
You watched him for a moment, noting the dark circles under his eyes and the way he seemed to be holding himself together with sheer willpower. Something was definitely off, but you weren’t sure how to address it without making him uncomfortable. “Spencer,” you began cautiously, “is everything okay? You seem… different.”
He paused, the spoon in his hand stilling as he considered your question. After a long moment, he sighed, his shoulders sagging slightly. “I just… I don’t like the idea of being out here without the rest of the team. It doesn’t feel right.”
His admission caught you off guard. You knew Spencer was meticulous, always needing to have control over the details, but you hadn’t realized just how much this situation was affecting him. “I get that,” you said softly, trying to offer some reassurance. “But we’re safe here, and we’ll figure things out. Maybe we’ll hear from them once we’re back in range.”
Spencer gave a small nod, though he didn’t look entirely convinced. “Yeah, maybe,” he murmured, more to himself than to you.
You decided to let the conversation drop, not wanting to push him further. Instead, you focused on the comforting smell of coffee and the crackling of the fire. The warmth of the morning sun filtered through the trees, casting a golden light over the campsite. For a moment, you allowed yourself to relax, taking in the peaceful surroundings.
But as you glanced around the site, something caught your eye—a piece of paper tacked to a tree, fluttering slightly in the breeze. “Hey, did you see that?” you asked, pointing towards it.
Before Spencer could answer, you were already on your feet, walking towards the tree. The paper was pinned to the bark with a small tack, and as you pulled it down, you quickly scanned the handwritten note. Your eyes widened as you read the familiar handwriting, the message becoming clear.
Hey guys!
I know you��ll be mad about this, but please see it from our point of view. We sent you two to a separate site, please talk through your issues, we are a team and we need to be able to trust each other. Obviously, we can’t force you to stay, but if you do come home early, you will each have to take two paid days off. No work. 
Please, work it out.
You stared at the note in disbelief for a moment, the words sinking in. This whole thing—Rossi’s directions, the empty campsite, the strange sense of being set up—it had all been orchestrated by the team. They had sent you and Spencer to a completely different site, forcing you into isolation together with the clear intention that you’d hash out whatever had been causing the rift between you.
You turned back to Spencer, holding the note up so he could see it. “You’ve got to be kidding me,” you muttered, frustration and disbelief coloring your voice.
Spencer stood up and walked over, taking the paper from your hand. His eyes quickly scanned the note, and you could see the tension in his shoulders as he realized what had happened. “They… they set us up,” he said quietly, his voice laced with irritation and something else—maybe betrayal.
“Yeah, looks like it,” you replied, crossing your arms as you processed the situation. “They’re basically holding us hostage until we ‘work it out.’”
Spencer shook his head, clearly struggling with the realization. “They can’t just force us to talk. We’re not children.”
“Apparently, they think we need to be treated like we are,” you replied, the frustration in your voice mirroring his. 
He remained silent, his eyes still fixed on the note as if it might offer some sort of solution. The fire crackled behind you, the only sound breaking the heavy tension that had settled between the two of you. The note in his hand felt like a ticking time bomb, and you both knew there was no avoiding the conversation any longer.
You took a deep breath, trying to steady your nerves. This wasn’t how you had envisioned things going, but there was no turning back now. “Spencer… should we just talk about it?” you asked, your voice softer, almost pleading.
“About what?” he replied, still not meeting your eyes, his tone flat and defensive.
“Come on… please,” you urged, trying to keep your frustration at bay. You needed to get to the bottom of this, once and for all. “Did I do something to you?”
“No,” he answered quickly, his voice sharp with finality.
“But you don’t like me,” you pressed, feeling the frustration bubbling up. It wasn’t just his short answers that were getting to you; it was the wall he was so clearly putting up, the refusal to even entertain the possibility of a conversation. You were tired of dancing around the issue, of feeling like you were constantly walking on eggshells around him.
“It’s not—” Spencer started, but then he cut himself off, clenching his jaw. His eyes finally met yours, and for a moment, you saw something flash in them—something like pain, or maybe guilt. But just as quickly, he looked away, shaking his head. “I don’t want to talk about it.”
The firmness in his voice left little room for argument, but you weren’t ready to give up. Not after everything. “Spencer, please,” you said, trying to reach him on a level beyond the walls he’d built around himself. “I’m not trying to push you, but this… whatever this is between us… it’s affecting the team. It’s affecting us. We can’t just keep pretending it doesn’t exist.”
Spencer’s shoulders tensed, and you could see the internal struggle he was facing, the way his mind was working through a hundred different thoughts at once. He seemed to be weighing his options, considering whether or not to open up. But in the end, all he did was shake his head again, his expression closing off. “I can’t,” he said quietly. “I’m sorry, but I just… I can’t.”
You felt a pang of disappointment, not just for yourself, but for him too. Whatever was going on inside his head, it was clearly something he wasn’t ready—or willing—to share. And that left you at an impasse, standing on opposite sides of a divide neither of you knew how to cross.
“Okay, well,” you said, your voice tinged with frustration as you turned away from him, “I’m just going to go for a walk then.”
Spencer’s head snapped up, his eyes widening slightly in alarm. “No, Y/N, that could be dangerous,” he said, his tone more urgent than you expected. There was a genuine concern in his voice, a sharp contrast to the distance he’d been maintaining.
“I don’t care,” you replied, your words coming out sharper than you intended. You needed to clear your head, to get some space, even if it meant wandering off into the woods. The tension between you and Spencer had reached a breaking point, and staying here, in this stifling atmosphere, felt unbearable.
You turned and started walking away, not really caring which direction you were heading. The forest loomed around you, the trees casting long shadows in the morning light, but you welcomed the solitude. You needed time to think, to process everything that had just happened.
Behind you, you heard Spencer call your name again, but you didn’t stop. The sound of his voice faded as you walked deeper into the trees, the cool air brushing against your skin as you moved further away from the campsite. You didn’t know where you were going or how far you would walk, but right now, that didn’t matter. All you wanted was some distance—from the campsite, from Spencer, from the emotions that had been building up inside you.
You heard the leaves crunch beneath your boots as you continued walking, the forest growing quieter with each step. The anger and frustration that had driven you out here began to ebb, replaced by a heavy feeling of sadness. You didn’t know why Spencer was so intent on keeping you at arm’s length, but whatever it was, it hurt. It hurt more than you wanted to admit.
But for now, you pushed those thoughts aside, focusing on the rhythm of your footsteps and the cool, fresh air filling your lungs. The walk might not solve anything, but it was a start. At least out here, you could breathe.
When you finally returned to the campsite, the tension in your chest had eased, though the lingering frustration and sadness hadn’t entirely left. As you approached, you noticed Spencer sitting by the fire, a new book in his hands. His fingers flicked through the pages at lightning speed, a blur of motion as he absorbed the text with the kind of intensity that only Spencer Reid could muster.
He didn’t look up right away, but you noticed his ears perk up at the sound of your footsteps crunching over the forest floor. It was a subtle movement, but it was clear he was aware of your presence, even if he wasn’t immediately acknowledging it. 
You stood there for a moment, watching him as he continued to read, his focus unwavering despite your return. The sight of him, so deeply engrossed in his book, made you wonder if he’d spent the entire time trying to escape into its pages, to block out the unresolved tension between you both. 
“Okay, Spencer,” you began, your voice steady as you walked closer to where he sat. “Here it is. I’ll drive us back tonight. I’ll tell Hotch that I made us leave and I’ll take the two days of paid leave. It’s fine. You don’t have to talk to me, and I’ll take the blame.”
Spencer finally looked up from his book, his eyes widening slightly as he processed your words. There was surprise and confusion in his expression, as if he couldn’t quite believe what you were saying. For a moment, he just stared at you, the book forgotten in his hands.
“You… you’d do that?” he asked, his voice soft, almost uncertain. He had expected you to be angry, maybe even confrontational after the way things had gone earlier, but instead, here you were, offering to take the blame, to make it easier for him.
It was clear that Spencer couldn’t believe how nice you were being, especially after everything. He had spent so long keeping you at a distance, fearing that you might turn out to be like your sister, but your words and actions were proving just how wrong he might have been.
“Yeah,” you said with a small shrug, trying to downplay the gesture even though it meant a lot to you. “I mean, we’re obviously not getting anywhere with this. If leaving early is what’s best, then that’s what we’ll do. And I don’t mind taking the hit for it. I’m not going to force you to talk if you don’t want to.”
Spencer swallowed, still struggling to find the right words. He wasn’t used to this kind of kindness, especially not from someone he had kept at arm’s length for so long. It was disarming, to say the least.
“I… I don’t know what to say,” he finally admitted, his voice tinged with genuine surprise. “You don’t have to do that.”
“I know I don’t have to,” you replied, meeting his gaze with a soft, understanding smile. “But I’m offering to because I know this whole situation isn’t easy for either of us. I don’t want you to feel pressured or uncomfortable.”
For a long moment, Spencer just looked at you, trying to reconcile the person standing in front of him with the fears and assumptions he had held onto for so long. 
“Thank you,” he finally said, his voice sincere. “I… I really appreciate it. But maybe… maybe we don’t have to leave just yet. We could just… see how things go.”
You nodded, sensing the tentative olive branch he was offering. “Okay,” you said gently, feeling a flicker of hope that maybe, just maybe, this could be the start of something better between the two of you.
Spencer nodded, a small, almost hesitant smile forming on his lips. It was a start—a small one, but a start nonetheless.
“Could I maybe ask you a question?” you ventured, your voice tentative, hoping to bridge the gap between you both just a little more.
“Sure,” Spencer said, closing his book slightly but still keeping his thumb between the pages, as if not entirely ready to let go of his comfort zone.
“Did I… do something?” you asked, the question hanging in the air between you. You had to know, even if it was uncomfortable.
Spencer’s eyes softened as he shook his head. “No,” he replied, his tone gentle, yet firm. “You didn’t do anything.”
There was a brief pause, the silence between you more comfortable now than it had been earlier. You gave a small nod, accepting his answer even if it didn’t give you all the clarity you had hoped for. “Okay, I’ll leave you with your book,” you said, starting to step back, figuring he might want some space.
But to your surprise, Spencer didn’t pick up where he left off in his book. Instead, he looked up at you, his expression more open than it had been since you’d met. “You don’t have to… we can talk a bit,” he offered, and though his voice was cautious, there was a genuine willingness in it.
You smiled slightly, appreciating the gesture. “Alright,” you agreed, trying to think of something simple to start with. “Um, where did you grow up?”
“Las Vegas,” Spencer answered, the familiar name rolling off his tongue with a mix of nostalgia and a hint of something else—perhaps a memory he wasn’t sure he wanted to share yet.
“Seriously?” you asked, your eyes widening with surprise.
“Yeah… is that weird?” Spencer replied, his expression uncertain, as if he was bracing for your reaction.
“No, no, that’s where I grew up too,” you said, shaking your head in disbelief. The coincidence was almost too much to wrap your head around.
“Oh…” Spencer’s voice trailed off, and you could see the wheels turning in his mind. He seemed hesitant, like there was something more he wasn’t saying.
You narrowed your eyes playfully, sensing there was more to the story. “Okay, you know something. Did you see my file or something?”
Spencer hesitated, his eyes darting away for a moment before he answered. “Or something…”
You let out an exaggerated sigh, half-joking, but still curious. “Oh, come on, Spencer. What’s up? What school did you go to?”
“Las Vegas High,” he admitted, finally meeting your gaze again.
Your eyes lit up with recognition. “Me too! Wait… but you’re only two years younger than me. Would I have known you?”
Spencer’s expression shifted slightly, and you could see a mix of emotions flicker across his face—hesitation, discomfort, maybe even a touch of embarrassment. “No… uh, I was a freshman at 8 years old.”
“Woah! That’s insane!” you exclaimed, genuinely amazed. “That must have been so difficult for you.”
“It was,” Spencer admitted quietly, his voice carrying the weight of old memories.
You felt a pang of empathy for him, imagining how tough it must have been to navigate high school as a child. The challenges he faced were beyond anything you could have imagined at that age. “I’m sorry, Spencer. I wish we had been in school at the same time, we could have been friends,” you said, offering him a warm smile.
Spencer’s discomfort was palpable, and you could sense it immediately, like a shift in the air between you. He shifted in his seat, his gaze dropping back to the ground as if he was retreating into himself again. “What did we bring for dinner tonight?” he asked, his voice a little too casual, as if trying to steer the conversation away from where it had been heading.
The sudden change in topic stung, a pang of rejection hitting you square in the chest. You had thought, just for a moment, that you were making progress, that maybe you were getting through to him. But you knew Spencer well enough by now to realize that he wasn’t ready to go there, not yet. And pushing him wouldn’t help.
So, for his sake, you forced yourself to move on. “Uh, hotdogs, I think,” you said, trying to match his casual tone, even though the disappointment lingered in the back of your mind.
You busied yourself with preparing the food, focusing on the simple task of gathering the ingredients and setting them up by the fire. The familiar motions helped ground you, giving you something to concentrate on besides the unease that had crept back into your interactions.
Spencer remained quiet, watching you out of the corner of his eye as you worked. There was a tension in his posture, a subtle but unmistakable sign that he was still grappling with whatever had made him uncomfortable in the first place. 
“Hotdogs it is, then,” you said, forcing a small smile as you handed him a stick to skewer the hotdogs. You hoped that by focusing on something as simple as cooking dinner, you could ease some of the tension between you, even if the conversation from earlier still hung heavy in the air.
Spencer took the stick from you, his fingers brushing yours for the briefest of moments. “Thanks,” he said quietly, his eyes meeting yours for just a second before he looked away again. 
As the two of you cooked over the fire, the crackling flames and the scent of roasting hotdogs filled the air, creating a more comfortable silence. It wasn’t perfect, but it was a start, and for now, that was enough.
The conversation over dinner had been light and mostly focused on work—discussing cases, swapping stories about the more mundane aspects of life at the BAU. It was easy, familiar territory, a safe haven for both of you to retreat to after the earlier tension. But as the sun dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows across the campsite, a quiet settled between you.
After finishing your meal, you excused yourself to change into your pajamas, the cool night air making you eager to get comfortable. When you returned to the fire, Spencer was still sitting by the flames, the orange light flickering over his face as he stared into the fire, lost in thought.
You approached him, sitting back down across from him. The night was still, the only sounds the crackling of the fire and the distant rustle of leaves. For a moment, you hesitated, not wanting to break the fragile peace, but curiosity got the better of you.
“Hey, Reid,” you called softly, trying to ease into the question that had been on your mind since the night before.
“Mhm,” he hummed in response, not looking up from the fire but clearly acknowledging you.
You bit your lip, then decided to just go for it. “Why did you sleep in the car?”
The question hung in the air between you, and you saw Spencer’s entire body stiffen. He froze, his eyes widening slightly, the tension in his shoulders returning in an instant. You could tell he didn’t want to answer, and for a second, you regretted asking. But you had to know.
“Just safer, I guess,” he finally mumbled, his voice tight and unconvincing. His eyes remained fixed on the fire, avoiding your gaze entirely.
You could sense there was more to it, something he wasn’t telling you, but you decided not to push. Spencer was clearly uncomfortable, and whatever the real reason was, he wasn’t ready to share it. So you nodded, accepting his explanation even if it didn’t feel entirely truthful.
“Okay,” you said softly, letting the matter drop. You didn’t want to make him feel any more uneasy than he already did.
Halfway through the night, you jolted awake, your heart pounding in your chest. There was an eerie, unsettling sound coming from outside your tent—a low, persistent noise that sent chills down your spine. You tried to ignore it, to convince yourself it was just the wind or some animal moving through the underbrush, but no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t calm down. The noise wasn’t stopping, and the longer it went on, the more your imagination ran wild.
Unable to shake the growing fear, you carefully and quietly unzipped your sleeping bag and slipped out of the tent. The cold night air hit you immediately, but the fear kept you moving. You crept toward the car, every step making the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end. When you reached the car, you knocked lightly on the window, hoping not to startle Spencer too much.
“Spencer!” you whisper-yelled, trying to keep your voice low but urgent. You could see him stir where he had flattened the back seats into a makeshift bed, his body shifting as he came to.
“Reid!” you whispered again, a little more urgently this time.
His eyes fluttered open, and he looked at you with wide, confused eyes. He sat up quickly, clearly surprised to see you standing there in the middle of the night. He leaned forward and unlocked the door, cracking it open just enough to speak to you. “What??” he asked, his voice still heavy with sleep and a touch of irritation.
“Can I come in, please?” you asked, your voice trembling slightly with fear.
Spencer blinked, clearly not expecting that. “No??” he replied, still half-asleep and unsure of what you were asking.
“Spencer, there’s a really scary noise out here,” you pleaded, your fear becoming more evident as you looked at him with wide, desperate eyes. “Please, please let me in.”
Spencer hesitated, his mind racing. He was still wary, worried that this might be some sort of prank or something worse. But as he looked at you, really looked at you, he saw the genuine fear in your expression. You weren’t trying to mess with him—you were genuinely scared. He’d never seen you like this before.
“Okay, fine,” he finally relented, scooting over to make room for you in the cramped space.
You didn’t waste any time, quickly crawling into the car and pulling the door closed behind you. As soon as you were inside, Spencer locked the doors again, the click of the locks echoing in the silence.
The two of you sat there for a moment, the car suddenly feeling much smaller with both of you inside. The strange noise outside continued, but now that you were with Spencer, the fear didn’t seem as overwhelming. You still couldn’t pinpoint what the noise was, but you felt safer with him there, even if he was still a bit unsure about the whole situation.
Spencer looked at you, his expression softening slightly. “Are you okay?” he asked, his voice quieter now, the irritation gone.
You nodded, still trying to calm your racing heart. “Yeah… I just couldn’t stay in the tent with that noise. It was freaking me out.”
He nodded in understanding, though his eyes flicked toward the windows, clearly trying to listen for the noise himself. “It’s probably just an animal,” he said, trying to reassure both you and himself.
“Maybe,” you whispered, though you weren’t entirely convinced. But for now, you were just grateful to be out of the tent and with someone who made you feel a little less alone.
Eventually, despite the lingering fear and the cramped quarters, exhaustion took over, and you both drifted off to sleep in the back of the car. The strange noise outside had faded into the background, and the warmth of the enclosed space made it easier to relax. 
Sometime in the middle of the night, however, Spencer stirred from his sleep, his body shifting slightly as he became aware of something unexpected. Blinking his eyes open, he realized with a start that your limbs were wrapped around him, your body pressed close as you clung to him in your sleep. Your arm was draped over his chest, your leg tangled with his, and your head was nestled against his shoulder. It was as if you had sought out the warmth and security he provided, even unconsciously.
Spencer froze, his mind racing as he tried to process the situation. He wasn’t used to this—intimacy, even in such an innocent form, was foreign territory for him. His heart started to race, not out of fear but out of sheer confusion. What was he supposed to do? Should he wake you? Should he try to untangle himself without disturbing you? 
But as he lay there, feeling the rise and fall of your breathing against him, he couldn’t bring himself to move. There was something oddly comforting about the way you had sought him out, something that made him feel… needed. It was a feeling he wasn’t accustomed to, and it left him at a loss for what to do next.
He glanced down at you, seeing the peaceful expression on your face as you slept. The fear and tension from earlier had melted away, replaced by a calmness that was almost contagious. Spencer’s mind continued to whirl, but he didn’t want to disturb you—not when you seemed so at ease.
So, he stayed still, letting you cling to him, trying to reconcile the strange mix of emotions coursing through him. The awkwardness was still there, but it was tempered by a quiet realization that maybe, just maybe, things between you two were starting to change. And for the first time in a long while, that didn’t seem so terrifying after all.
When the morning sun filtered through the trees, casting warm golden rays across the campsite, Spencer was already outside, crouched by the fire as he prepared coffee. The familiar scent of brewing coffee wafted through the air, mingling with the fresh scent of the forest, creating a peaceful start to the day. You emerged from the car, feeling a little stiff from the cramped sleep, but more than that, you were feeling a twinge of embarrassment.
You approached Spencer, rubbing the sleep from your eyes, and hesitated for a moment before speaking. “Hey… thanks again for letting me bunk with you,” you said, your voice laced with genuine gratitude.
“No problem,” Spencer replied, his tone flat, distant, as he focused on the coffee. He didn’t look up, his gaze firmly fixed on the task at hand.
The coldness in his voice felt like a sharp contrast to the fleeting moment of connection you thought you’d shared the night before. You sighed, the disappointment settling heavily in your chest. Somehow, it seemed like you’d messed up again, and you couldn’t help but feel the sting of rejection all over again.
“Did that… make you uncomfortable? I’m sorry,” you ventured, hoping to clear the air, even if it meant confronting whatever it was that had made him withdraw.
“It’s fine,” Spencer replied, his voice clipped, as if he was trying to end the conversation before it could really start. He still didn’t meet your eyes, his attention entirely on the coffee pot.
You watched him for a moment, feeling the familiar ache of misunderstanding between you two. It was clear that whatever had happened during the night had unsettled him, but he wasn’t willing to talk about it. The walls were back up, and despite your best efforts, you couldn’t seem to break through.
But instead of pressing further, you decided to let it go, at least for now. Pushing Spencer never worked, and you knew that trying to force a conversation would only make things worse. So you offered him a small, resigned smile, even if he wasn’t looking to see it.
“Okay,” you said softly, accepting his response even though it left you feeling hollow.
You sat down by the fire, quietly waiting for the coffee to finish brewing. The silence between you felt heavy, and you couldn’t shake the feeling that you had taken a step backward after all the progress you thought you’d made. 
“Um, we can head out whenever you’re ready. We only had to stay until today,” you mumbled, your voice subdued as you stood up and started to take down your tent. You avoided looking directly at Spencer, the awkwardness of the morning still hanging in the air.
“Oh, okay,” Spencer replied, his tone neutral, though you could sense a hint of hesitation in his response.
As you began to disassemble the tent, Spencer watched you for a moment, the silence between you lingering. Despite everything, he found himself reluctant to leave. The tension and awkwardness aside, there had been moments—small, fleeting moments—where he had actually enjoyed your company. The quiet of the campsite, the simplicity of the night, even the unexpected comfort he’d found in your presence last night… it was all something he hadn’t anticipated.
He felt a strange pull, a desire to stay just a little longer, even if he couldn’t quite articulate why. But he was Spencer Reid, and expressing those kinds of feelings wasn’t something that came easily to him. Instead, he stood there, conflicted, as he watched you go about packing up.
“Actually… we don’t have to rush,” Spencer finally said, his voice softer now. “If you want, we could stay for a little while longer. There’s no hurry.”
You paused in your task, surprised by his words. You turned to look at him, searching his face for any sign of what had changed his mind. “Are you sure?” you asked cautiously, not wanting to impose if he really wanted to leave.
Spencer nodded, his expression more open than it had been all morning. “Yeah, I’m sure. It’s… nice out here. Peaceful.”
A small smile tugged at your lips, and for the first time that morning, you felt a bit of the tension ease. Maybe you hadn’t messed up as badly as you thought. “Okay,” you agreed, setting the tent pole back down. “We can stay a little longer.”
Spencer gave a small, almost imperceptible smile in return, and as the two of you stood there in the morning light, it felt like there was a chance to start over—to take the time neither of you had been willing to take before. 
After a simple breakfast, you looked over at Spencer, feeling a bit more at ease with the morning stretching out before you. “When I went for a walk, I saw a body of water,” you suggested, trying to keep the conversation light and inviting. “Do you want to go check it out?”
Spencer looked up from his coffee, a little surprised by the suggestion. “Oh, sure,” he agreed, his tone more relaxed than it had been earlier.
The two of you set off through the trees, following the path you had taken before. It didn’t take long to find the body of water again, the sunlight reflecting off its surface in shimmering patterns. The sight was even more beautiful now, with the morning light casting a gentle glow over the water.
“It’s gorgeous,” Spencer said softly, his voice filled with genuine appreciation as he took in the scene.
“Yeah,” you agreed, your eyes sweeping over the peaceful setting. The water was so clear, so inviting, that you couldn’t resist the urge to get in. “I’m going to get in,” you announced, already starting to kick off your shoes.
“What?” Spencer’s voice cracked, his surprise evident as he watched you strip down to your undergarments without hesitation. His cheeks flushed a light shade of pink as you waded into the cold, refreshing water, a small shiver running through you as the temperature hit your skin.
The water was invigorating, waking you up in a way that the morning coffee never could. You splashed around a bit, reveling in the feeling of the water against your skin. Turning back to Spencer, who was still standing at the edge, looking unsure of what to do, you grinned. “Do you know how to swim, genius?”
“Yes,” he replied, blushing even deeper as he averted his eyes slightly, clearly trying to maintain some semblance of decorum despite the situation.
“Do you want to join me?” you asked, your voice light and teasing as you floated on your back, letting the water carry you.
Spencer hesitated, clearly torn between his natural inclination to stay dry and the surprising appeal of joining you in the water. After a moment, he looked back at you, the uncertainty in his eyes slowly giving way to something else—curiosity, maybe even a touch of daring.
“Alright,” he finally said, as if making a decision that surprised even himself. With a deep breath, he began to unbutton his shirt, methodically removing his clothes until he was down to a tshirt and briefs. His movements were careful, deliberate, as if he was still a bit unsure about this whole idea.
When he finally stepped into the water, a shiver ran through him as the cold enveloped his body. “It’s… colder than I expected,” he admitted, his voice a bit higher-pitched than usual.
You couldn’t help but laugh at his reaction, watching as he waded in deeper, adjusting to the temperature. “You’ll get used to it,” you assured him, still floating easily on the surface.
Spencer nodded, his movements tentative at first, but as he swam out to where you were, he began to relax. There was a certain lightness to the moment, a freedom that neither of you had felt in a long time. The water, the sun, the simple act of swimming—it was a welcome escape from the tension that had defined your interactions until now.
The two of you spent what felt like hours playing and splashing in the water, the cool waves washing away the tension that had been hanging between you. It was a rare, carefree moment where you both felt free and childlike, laughing without a care in the world. There were no pressures, no responsibilities—just the simple joy of being in the moment.
But as the sun climbed higher in the sky, signaling that it was time to come out, you noticed a shift in Spencer. He seemed hesitant, his earlier playfulness replaced with a familiar tension. He lingered in the water, avoiding your gaze, and you could sense his discomfort.
“Um, Y/N… can you turn around when I get out?” Spencer asked, his voice quiet, almost nervous.
“Huh? Oh, yeah, of course,” you replied, caught a little off guard by his request but willing to do whatever made him comfortable.
“And, um… maybe walk a bit away?” he added, his tone even more tentative.
“Uh huh, sure. Whatever you want,” you said gently, giving him a reassuring smile before turning away and moving up the bank. You grabbed your clothes and began walking a bit further from the water, giving him the privacy he clearly needed.
Spencer waited until you were a safe distance away and preoccupied with getting dressed before he quickly and quietly scrambled out of the water, pulling on his clothes as fast as he could. The vulnerability of being in nothing but water-tight briefs had brought back all his fears, the insecurities that had haunted him for years.
As you both started the walk back to the campsite, you couldn’t help but address the tension that still lingered. “Did you think I would make fun of you?” you asked, your voice soft, but tinged with concern.
Spencer shook his head slightly, though he didn’t look at you. “Oh, no, I don’t know,” he mumbled, clearly uncomfortable.
Your heart ached at his response. “I wouldn’t, for the record,” you said earnestly, hoping to reassure him.
There was a brief silence, heavy with unspoken emotions, before you felt compelled to share something of your own. “I grew up with a really mean sister,” you began, your voice carrying the weight of old wounds. “She would make fun of everyone for anything and everything, including me. It was a torturous way to grow up. I would never want to make anyone feel the way that she made me feel.”
Spencer suddenly stopped walking, his entire body tensing as if he’d hit an invisible wall. You turned to him, alarmed by the sudden change.
“Spencer? Are you okay?” you asked, worry lacing your voice.
He took a deep breath, his voice strained as he spoke. “It’s not you, it’s never been you,” he said, his words confusing you even more. “It was your sister.”
“What?” you whispered, the revelation hitting you like a cold gust of wind.
“Your sister was in my grade in high school,” Spencer explained, his voice trembling with the emotions he’d kept buried for so long.
“Oh…” was all you could manage, the pieces slowly clicking into place.
“She wasn’t nice,” Spencer continued, his voice thick with the memories. His eyes welled up with tears, and he blinked rapidly, trying to hold them back. “She bullied me pretty relentlessly. Tied me up naked to a flagpole and took pictures.”
“Spencer… oh my God,” you breathed, horror and guilt crashing over you. You thought your heart had broken earlier, but now it felt shattered, the pieces scattered by the weight of his confession. “I don’t even know what to say. I am so, so sorry. No one ever deserves that. I can’t believe you went through that.”
Spencer nodded, the tears finally spilling over as he stood there, vulnerable in a way you had never seen before. The pain he had carried for so long, the fear that had driven a wedge between you, was now out in the open. 
“Can I—can I hug you?” you offered, your voice gentle, filled with the empathy and care that had been building in your heart since Spencer’s revelation.
Spencer hesitated for only a moment before nodding, allowing you to pull him into an embrace. You wrapped your arms around him, holding him close, feeling the tension in his body gradually melt away as he leaned into the comfort you were offering.
“You don’t have to say anything,” you murmured softly against his shoulder. “I’m going to assume that you were afraid of me being like my sister, and that’s why you didn’t talk to me.”
Spencer nodded again, his silent confirmation making your heart ache even more for him. You could only imagine the fear and pain he must have felt, avoiding you because of a past that had nothing to do with who you truly were.
“I just want you to know, Spencer,” you continued, your voice steady but filled with emotion, “I would never do anything to hurt you in any way. I am nothing like her. I’ve spent my whole life trying to be the opposite of her. My family disowned her a long time ago.”
Spencer pulled back slightly then, just enough to look at you, his eyes still wet with tears. There was a vulnerability in his gaze that you hadn’t seen before, a deep, raw emotion that spoke volumes. “I believe you,” he whispered, his voice breaking but filled with sincerity.
Your own eyes stung with unshed tears, the weight of his belief in you meaning more than you could express. “I’m so sorry to have made you feel uncomfortable this whole time,” you said, your voice thick with regret. “I completely understand why you didn’t want to get too close to me.”
Spencer shook his head slightly, about to apologize, but you stopped him before he could. “No, never apologize for protecting yourself,” you insisted, your tone firm but kind. “We’ve solved it now, and that’s what matters. I hope we can be friends?”
There was a moment of silence as Spencer processed your words, and then, slowly, a small but genuine smile formed on his lips. “Of course,” he said softly, his voice filled with a warmth that hadn’t been there before.
You smiled back, feeling a sense of relief and hope wash over you. The wall between you and Spencer had finally come down, and in its place was the beginning of a real connection—one built on understanding, empathy, and the promise of a friendship that could grow from here.
“Thank you,” Spencer added quietly, his voice full of gratitude. And for the first time, you both felt like you were truly starting fresh, free from the shadows of the past.
You and Spencer made it back to Quantico with a sense of quiet relief, knowing that the rift between you had finally been addressed. When you reported back to the team, you both kept the details vague, simply letting them know that you had worked things out. Spencer was immensely grateful for your discretion, and you could see it in the small, appreciative smiles he sent your way. During the ride back, the two of you had chatted the entire time, the conversation flowing easily as if the weight of the past had finally been lifted.
The next day at work, you felt a new sense of ease around Spencer. The tension was gone, replaced by the beginnings of what felt like a genuine friendship. As you approached his desk, you felt a little flutter of nerves, but it was a good kind—like you were about to take a step forward into something new.
“Hey, Spencer…” you called softly as you reached his desk.
He looked up from his work, a smile spreading across his face when he saw you. “Hey, Y/N,” he greeted warmly.
“Would you maybe want to come over this weekend? We could watch a movie or something?” you asked, hoping to continue building on the connection you’d started.
“Sure,” he grinned, clearly pleased by the invitation. “That sounds great.”
You returned his smile, feeling a little spark of excitement as you walked away. It felt good to know that things between you and Spencer were on a new path, one that was built on mutual understanding and trust.
Unbeknownst to you, Derek Morgan had been casually eavesdropping from a distance. As soon as you were out of earshot, he sneaked up on Spencer, a mischievous grin on his face. “You got yourself a date, Reid?” Derek teased, leaning on the desk with a playful glint in his eye.
Spencer’s eyes widened, and he shook his head quickly, his cheeks flushing slightly. “What? No, we’re just hanging out,” he insisted, his voice flustered but firm.
“Mhm,” Derek hummed, not buying it for a second, his teasing grin only widening. “Sure, man, just hanging out.”
Spencer shot him a look, trying to maintain his composure, but the slight smile tugging at the corner of his lips gave him away. Despite Derek’s teasing, there was a sense of warmth and excitement bubbling up inside Spencer—because for the first time, “just hanging out” with someone felt like it could lead to something more, even if he wasn’t quite ready to admit it yet.
Derek chuckled and gave Spencer a friendly pat on the shoulder before walking away, leaving Spencer to ponder the possibilities that lay ahead, a small smile still lingering on his face.
Friday evening arrived faster than you and Spencer had expected. Both of you were feeling excitement and nervousness, eager for the evening ahead but also unsure of how it would unfold. You had spent the day tidying up and preparing your living room, making sure everything was just right for your night of movie watching and hanging out. You wanted Spencer to feel comfortable, and you hoped the cozy atmosphere you’d created would help set the tone for a relaxing evening.
When Spencer arrived at your place, he was immediately taken aback by the scene before him. Your living room was bathed in the soft glow of string lights, their warm hue giving the room a welcoming, almost magical quality. The sunset outside the window painted the sky in shades of pink and orange, adding to the serene ambiance. The couch was piled with soft blankets, and a few pillows were scattered around, inviting him to sit and get comfortable. On the coffee table, you had set out some snacks, drinks, and everything you might need for a night of watching movies.
As he stepped inside, Spencer couldn’t help but smile, feeling a wave of relief wash over him. He had been half-expecting some sort of trick or prank, but instead, you had gone out of your way to make the evening as enjoyable as possible. It was clear that you genuinely wanted to spend time with him, and the effort you’d put into setting everything up didn’t go unnoticed.
“Wow,” Spencer said softly, his eyes taking in the cozy, well-thought-out setup. “This looks amazing.”
You smiled, pleased that he seemed to like it. “Thanks, I wanted to make sure we could just relax and have a good time,” you replied, motioning for him to come in and make himself comfortable. “No tricks, I promise.”
Spencer chuckled, the tension he’d been feeling all day melting away as he settled onto the couch. “I believe you,” he said, feeling more at ease than he had expected. 
As you both sat down, the air was filled with a comfortable anticipation, the kind that comes with knowing you’re about to spend time with someone you genuinely enjoy being around. It was the start of what promised to be a wonderful evening, free from the worries of the past and full of the potential for a growing friendship.
After the first movie ended, the credits rolling across the screen, you and Spencer found yourselves lingering on the couch, the atmosphere between you light and airy, buoyed by the humor of the comedy you’d just watched. The laughter had done its job, breaking down any lingering tension, and now conversation flowed easily between you.
“So, what did you think of the movie?” you asked, turning to Spencer with a smile. You’d both been chuckling throughout, but you were curious to hear his thoughts now that it was over.
“It was great,” Spencer replied, a genuine grin on his face. “I don’t usually watch a lot of comedies, but that one was really funny. The timing, the dialogue… it was all really well done.” He seemed more relaxed than you’d ever seen him, his guard down as he leaned back into the couch.
“Yeah, it’s one of my favorites,” you said, pleased that he had enjoyed it. “Sometimes you just need something light to unwind, you know?”
Spencer nodded in agreement. “Definitely. It’s nice to just… laugh, without thinking too much.” He hesitated for a moment before adding, “I guess I don’t do that enough.”
You smiled softly at his admission, feeling a warmth in your chest at the idea that tonight was giving him something he didn’t often allow himself. “Well, I’m glad you’re here. We can do this more often if you want. Just hang out and relax.”
Spencer glanced over at you, his eyes softening. “I’d like that,” he said sincerely. “It’s nice to have someone to do this with.”
There was a comfortable silence between you for a moment, the kind that felt natural and unforced. You reached for the remote, ready to start another movie, but found yourself pausing, wanting to keep the conversation going a little longer.
“So, what’s one movie you think I should watch?” you asked, curious to hear his recommendation. “Something you really love.”
Spencer’s eyes lit up with excitement, the prospect of sharing one of his favorite films with you clearly appealing to him. “Oh, there are so many,” he said, his enthusiasm contagious. “But if I had to pick one… Have you ever seen *The Great Dictator* by Charlie Chaplin?”
You shook your head, intrigued by his choice. “No, I haven’t. Is it good?”
“It’s incredible,” Spencer said, his voice full of admiration. “It’s one of Chaplin’s best works—a satire that’s both funny and deeply poignant. It’s also one of the first films where he speaks, and the final speech… it’s just powerful.”
“Wow, sounds like a must-watch,” you said, genuinely interested. “We should definitely put that on our list for next time.”
“Absolutely,” Spencer agreed, smiling. “I think you’d really appreciate it.”
As the night wound down, the conversation between you and Spencer became more intimate, the two of you curled up on the couch, facing each other. The atmosphere was warm and comfortable, the barriers that had once stood between you now gone. The flickering glow of the TV cast soft shadows around the room, but your focus was entirely on each other, the outside world forgotten for the moment.
“So, Reid… are you seeing anyone?” you asked, your tone light but curious.
Spencer chuckled softly, shaking his head. “Hah, no, I’m not,” he replied, a hint of amusement in his voice. “Are you?”
“I was,” you admitted, feeling a small flush rise to your cheeks. “But they were kind of flaky, not ready to commit.”
“That makes sense,” Spencer said, nodding thoughtfully. “Do you date a lot?”
You blushed a little deeper, suddenly feeling a bit self-conscious. “Not a lot,” you confessed. “I prefer to wait for a genuine connection.”
“Me too,” Spencer agreed, his voice soft, as if he were relieved to find that you shared the same sentiment.
“Have you dated recently?” you asked, your curiosity piqued. Spencer had always seemed so private, and you couldn’t help but wonder if there was someone special in his life.
“Not really,” he said, a small, almost sad smile crossing his face. “I… am kind of wary of dating.”
“Can I ask why? You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to,” you said gently, not wanting to push him but also wanting to understand more about him.
Spencer hesitated for a moment, clearly weighing whether or not to share. “Um… well, in school, girls would ask me on dates, and when I showed up, they’d make fun of me and take pictures,” he finally admitted, his voice quiet, the pain from those memories still lingering.
“Like my sister?” you asked softly, already suspecting the answer.
“Yeah,” he confirmed, his eyes flickering with the old hurt. “That’s how she… yeah.”
“Oh, Spencer…” you breathed, your heart breaking for him all over again. You reached out instinctively, wanting to offer comfort, but you held back, respecting his space.
“Let’s not talk about it,” he said, his voice firmer this time, as if he needed to move past the subject for his own peace of mind.
“Of course,” you agreed immediately, not wanting to cause him any more pain.
There was a brief silence, one that felt heavy with unspoken words, but before you could change the topic, Spencer spoke again, his voice softer, almost hesitant. “You’re prettier than her, you know.”
“What’s that?” you asked, not sure you had heard him correctly.
“Your sister,” Spencer clarified, his eyes meeting yours with a sincerity that made your heart skip a beat. “You’re prettier. And nicer, but that’s a given.”
You felt your cheeks flush deeply, not just from his words, but from the way he said them—with such earnestness, as if he’d been holding onto that thought for a while. The compliment caught you off guard, and you weren’t quite sure how to respond.
“Thank you,” you finally managed, your voice soft, touched by his words more than you could express. “That really means a lot. She… did not think so.”
Spencer’s expression softened even further, a mix of empathy and determination in his eyes. “I hope you know that you are,” he said, his voice gentle yet firm, as if he needed you to believe it as much as he did.
“Thank you, Spencer,” you replied, a warm smile spreading across your face. “You’re really pretty too.”
Spencer blinked in surprise, his cheeks tinging pink at the unexpected compliment. “Really?” he asked, his voice laced with disbelief and curiosity.
“Mhm,” you nodded, your smile widening. “I’ve always thought so.”
The sincerity in your voice seemed to catch Spencer off guard, and for a moment, he didn’t know how to respond. It wasn’t often that he received compliments like this—especially not from someone he was beginning to care about as much as he cared about you. He felt a warmth spread through him, a sense of validation that he hadn’t realized he needed.
“Thank you,” he finally said, his voice almost a whisper, but the smile that touched his lips was genuine and full of a newfound confidence. There was something deeply reassuring about your words, something that made him feel seen in a way he hadn’t felt before.
As the evening continued, the bond between you only deepened, both of you more relaxed and open with each other than you had been before. The compliments exchanged were just the beginning—a sign that what was growing between you was more than just a simple friendship. It was a connection built on mutual respect, admiration, and a shared understanding of each other’s pasts and insecurities.
“How was your date, pretty boy?” Derek teased, his voice carrying across the bullpen as he leaned against Spencer's desk with a wide grin.
“It wasn’t a date,” Spencer mumbled, his eyes firmly fixed on the stack of papers in front of him. He could feel the heat rising to his cheeks, and he desperately wished Derek would drop the subject.
“Reid had a date?” Rossi’s voice chimed in as he walked by, a look of amused surprise on his face.
“Yep! Friday night,” Derek laughed, clearly enjoying Spencer’s discomfort.
“Would you guys keep it down? I did not have a date,” Spencer hissed, his voice low and urgent as he glanced nervously toward the entrance. The last thing he wanted was for you to walk in and overhear them. The thought of you getting the wrong idea—or worse, feeling awkward about the night—made his stomach twist.
“Aw, come on, Reid,” Derek continued, not ready to let it go just yet. “You’re telling me you spent a whole evening at Y/N’s place, all cozy on the couch, and that wasn’t a date?”
Spencer sighed, his frustration mounting as he tried to formulate a response that would shut down the teasing. “We were just hanging out,” he insisted, though he couldn’t deny the warmth that crept into his voice at the memory of the evening. “We’re friends. That’s all.”
Derek exchanged a knowing look with Rossi, both of them clearly unconvinced but willing to let it slide—for now, at least. “Alright, alright,” Derek said, raising his hands in mock surrender. “If you say so, pretty boy.”
Rossi chuckled, giving Spencer a reassuring pat on the back. “Whatever it was, it’s good to see you two getting along,” he said, his tone more serious now.
Spencer nodded, grateful for the subtle shift in the conversation. “Thanks, Rossi,” he replied quietly, hoping the conversation was finally over.
Just as the tension began to ease, you walked through the door, a bright smile on your face as you entered the bullpen. Spencer’s heart skipped a beat, and he quickly looked down at his work, praying that the others wouldn’t say anything more.
“Morning, everyone,” you greeted cheerfully, oblivious to the earlier exchange.
“Morning, Y/N,” Derek and Rossi replied in unison, their voices notably more innocent than they had been moments before.
Spencer dared a quick glance up at you, relieved to see that you hadn’t picked up on the previous teasing. “Morning,” he mumbled, trying to focus on the files in front of him.
You gave him a warm smile, your eyes meeting his for a brief moment, and he felt a sense of relief wash over him. Whatever Derek and Rossi thought, you knew the truth—and that was all that mattered.
“Hey, Y/N,” Alex greeted you with a warm smile as she approached your desk.
“Hey, Alex,” you replied, returning the smile. “How was your weekend?”
“It was relaxing, thanks for asking,” Alex said, her tone light and casual. “How about you? What’s up?”
Before you could answer, Alex’s eyes sparkled with a bit of mischief as she continued, “I heard you had a date this weekend.”
You blinked in surprise, momentarily thrown off by the comment. “Uh, nope. Just hung out with Reid and went to the farmers market,” you clarified, wondering where she had gotten the idea that it was anything more.
Alex raised an eyebrow, clearly enjoying the teasing. “It wasn’t a date with Reid?”
“No? Did he say it was?” you asked, genuinely curious now. Had Spencer mentioned something to someone that made them think it was a date?
Realizing she might have stirred something up unintentionally, Alex quickly backtracked. “I think I might have misspoke, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to cause any confusion,” she said with an apologetic smile. “I’ll see you later, honey.”
“Bye, Alex,” you replied, still a bit puzzled by the exchange. As she walked away, you couldn’t help but replay the conversation in your head, wondering how such a simple evening of hanging out with Spencer had turned into a rumor about a date.
Shaking your head, you decided not to dwell on it too much. You knew the truth of the situation, and that was enough. Still, the idea of others seeing you and Spencer as something more than friends lingered in your mind, leaving you with curiosity and uncertainty as you returned to your work.
“Reid! You had a date with Y/N and didn’t think to tell me?? I thought we were close!” Penelope’s voice whined from across the breakroom, her tone a mix of hurt and playful exaggeration.
Spencer nearly choked on his coffee, his eyes widening in surprise as he turned to face her. “I did not have a date with Y/N!” he insisted, exasperation clear in his voice. “Did Derek tell you that? I swear, the gossip in this office travels at the speed of light.”
Penelope shook her head, her brightly colored glasses slipping slightly down her nose. “Oh, no, I heard it from JJ.”
“JJ?” Spencer repeated, even more bewildered. “I never told JJ anything about a date because there wasn’t a date!”
Penelope tilted her head, a curious look on her face. “Maybe Y/N did…”
Spencer sighed deeply, rubbing the back of his neck as he processed the situation. “No, Y/N wouldn’t have said it was a date because it wasn’t,” he reiterated, feeling like the whole thing was spiraling out of control.
Penelope’s expression softened as she realized how flustered Spencer was. “Okay, okay, calm down, boy genius,” she said gently, placing a reassuring hand on his arm. “It’s just a bit of harmless teasing. But, honestly, with how everyone’s talking, it does kind of sound like a date, you know?”
Spencer groaned inwardly, knowing that trying to convince everyone otherwise was starting to feel like a losing battle. “It was just a casual hangout,” he emphasized, though even he could hear how unconvincing it sounded at this point.
Penelope studied him for a moment, her gaze more thoughtful now. “Okay, I believe you,” she finally said with a small smile. “But just so you know, if it ever turns into more than just a hangout… you can always come to me for advice.”
Spencer’s cheeks flushed slightly, and he offered her a shy smile in return. “Thanks, Penelope. I’ll keep that in mind.”
With that, Penelope gave him a quick hug before heading out of the breakroom, leaving Spencer standing there, still a little dazed by how quickly the rumor mill had turned a simple evening into a full-blown office saga. But as he finished his coffee, he couldn’t help but wonder—if so many people were seeing it as more than just a hangout, was there something there he hadn’t fully acknowledged yet?
You were focused on making copies in the copier room when you heard the door creak open behind you. Turning around, you were pleasantly surprised to see Spencer standing there. 
“Hey,” you greeted him with a warm smile, happy to see him.
“Hi…” he replied, but his tone was hesitant, his usual shyness creeping back in.
Your smile faltered slightly. “Oh no, I thought we were past the cold shoulder,” you teased lightly, hoping to ease whatever tension he might be feeling.
Spencer’s expression softened, and he quickly shook his head. “Sorry, we are,” he assured you, a hint of a smile forming on his lips.
Before you could say anything else, the door swung open again, and JJ walked in, a playful grin on her face. “Hey, love birds,” she teased, clearly unaware of the moment she was interrupting.
Startled, you jumped, your hand slipping and slamming down on the copier lid. “Ow!” you yelped, pain shooting through your fingers as you quickly pulled your hand back.
JJ’s face immediately filled with concern as she rushed over. “Oh shoot, Y/N, I didn’t mean to scare you!” she exclaimed, her voice filled with guilt.
Spencer was at your side in an instant, his worry evident in his eyes. “Y/N! Are you okay?” he asked, his voice laced with concern as he reached for your injured hand.
You winced, flexing your fingers slightly to test them. “No, I crushed my hand really hard,” you admitted, the throbbing pain making it difficult to think about anything else.
“Let’s go get you some ice,” Spencer said quickly, his hand gently guiding you toward the door.
JJ nodded, clearly feeling bad about what had happened. “I’m so sorry, Y/N. I didn’t mean to startle you,” she said, her voice filled with sincerity as she followed you both out of the room.
“It’s okay,” you reassured her, though the pain in your hand made it hard to keep the smile on your face. “It was just an accident.”
Spencer didn’t waste any time as he led you down the hall, his worry for you clear in his every movement. Once you reached the breakroom, he quickly grabbed a small bag of ice from the freezer, wrapping it in a towel before gently pressing it against your injured hand.
“Here,” he said softly, his voice full of concern as he held the ice in place. “This should help.”
You nodded gratefully, touched by how attentive he was being. “Thanks, Spencer,” you murmured, the pain starting to dull under the cool pressure of the ice.
In that moment, as Spencer held the ice gently against your hand, you looked up at him and couldn’t help but smile. The concern in his eyes, the tenderness in his touch—it was all so sweet, so genuine. For a second, it felt like the rest of the world had faded away, leaving just the two of you in your little bubble of shared warmth. Anyone looking at you both in that moment would have seen it—the soft, unspoken affection that had been quietly growing between you.
Just then, the door to the breakroom swung open, and Aaron Hotchner walked in, his gaze immediately landing on the two of you. He stopped short, raising an eyebrow as he took in the scene. “Whoa, am I interrupting something?” he asked, a hint of teasing in his usually serious tone.
You and Spencer both snapped out of your little world, glancing at each other with wide eyes before quickly looking away, your faces flushing with embarrassment.
“No, uh, Y/N just hurt her hand,” Spencer stammered, his voice a little higher than usual as he struggled to explain. “I was just helping her with some ice.”
Aaron’s lips quirked into a small smile, clearly not entirely convinced by the rushed explanation. “I see,” he said, his tone even but with that subtle hint of amusement. “Well, it’s good to see you’re taking care of each other.”
You nodded, still blushing, but managed to muster a smile. “Thanks, Hotch. It’s nothing serious, just a little bump.”
“Glad to hear it,” Aaron replied, giving you both a knowing look before heading to the coffee machine. He didn’t say anything more, but the slight smirk on his face as he poured his coffee said plenty.
As he left the room, the silence between you and Spencer felt charged, the air thick with the unspoken feelings that neither of you were quite ready to fully acknowledge. But despite the awkwardness, there was also a warmth—an understanding that something was shifting between you, something neither of you could deny.
Finally, Spencer broke the silence, his voice softer now, almost hesitant. “You should keep the ice on for a while,” he said, still holding the towel-wrapped bag against your hand.
“Yeah,” you agreed, your voice just as quiet, but your heart was still racing from the earlier moment. “Thanks, Spencer. I really appreciate it.”
He nodded, his eyes meeting yours for just a second before flicking away again. “Anytime,” he murmured, and despite the awkwardness, there was a small, genuine smile on his lips that made your heart flutter just a little more.
By the end of the week, the teasing from the team had mostly died down. The playful comments and knowing looks had given way to the usual routines of work, and everyone seemed to move on from the idea that you and Spencer were more than just friends. But despite the outward calm, Spencer couldn’t shake the thoughts that lingered in his mind.
All week, he found himself replaying the moments you had shared—the movie night, the quiet conversations, the way you had looked at him when he held the ice against your hand. It wasn’t just the teasing that had gotten under his skin; it was the way it made him question things he hadn’t fully considered before.
Spencer wasn’t someone who easily delved into matters of the heart. His mind was so often occupied with facts, statistics, and the complexities of human behavior that his own emotions sometimes felt like an unsolvable puzzle. But now, those emotions were harder to ignore. He kept thinking about the way your smile made his heart beat a little faster, or how he found comfort in your presence in a way that was different from anyone else.
He was still trying to wrap his head around what it all meant. Was it just friendship, or was there something more? And if there was more, what did that mean for both of you? Spencer wasn’t sure he had the answers, but he knew he couldn’t just brush it off as easily as he once might have.
As the week came to a close, he found himself wanting to talk to you more, to spend time with you, to explore whatever this was between you both. The thought of asking you out—actually asking you out—crossed his mind more than once, but every time he considered it, a wave of nerves would hit him, and he’d retreat back into his thoughts.
By Friday afternoon, he was still thinking about it as he sat at his desk, his work in front of him but his mind far from focused on the task at hand. The uncertainty gnawed at him, but there was also a flicker of excitement there, a small hope that maybe, just maybe, this could turn into something real.
As the workday came to an end, people began to gather around the elevators, eager to start their weekends. Spencer had been keeping an eye out for you, hoping to catch you before you left. He wanted to ask if you’d like to hang out again this weekend, the thought of spending more time with you making him feel both nervous and excited.
But just as he was about to approach you, another agent, Brant Ledgers, beat him to it. Spencer slowed his pace, watching the exchange from a distance, his heart sinking as Brant tried to turn on the charm.
“Hey, Agent,” Brant said, his voice smooth, leaning in a little too close for comfort.
“Um, hello,” you replied, taken aback by his sudden approach.
“You look beautiful today, and I couldn’t help but notice you smell divine. Did you intentionally pick my favorite scent?” Brant continued, his tone dripping with arrogance.
“What?” you asked, clearly uncomfortable with the way he was speaking to you.
Before the situation could escalate, the elevator arrived, and Spencer, feeling a pang of anxiety at the possibility of hearing you agree to another man’s advances, quickly stepped inside, not wanting to witness it.
But just as the doors were closing, he overheard Brant’s next move. “What do you say, baby? You and me, this weekend?” Brant asked, his tone filled with unwelcome confidence.
“Oh, um, no thank you. I appreciate the offer,” you replied, trying to be polite despite your discomfort.
“Why not?” Brant pressed, his voice taking on a sharper edge.
“I don’t have to give you a reason,” you said firmly, attempting to walk away.
But as you turned to leave, Brant grabbed your arm, stopping you in your tracks. “Uh, yeah, you do,” he said, his grip tight and his tone menacing.
Just then, Derek Morgan, who had been nearby, stepped out of the bullpen and saw what was happening. “Whoa, what’s going on?” Derek’s voice boomed, his protective instincts kicking in immediately.
“We’re having a conversation, butt out,” Brant snapped, clearly irritated by Derek’s interference.
“Y/N, you good?” Derek asked, ignoring Brant entirely as he focused on you.
You shook your head, the fear and discomfort evident in your eyes.
“Let her go, Ledgers,” Derek commanded, his voice low and dangerous.
Brant hesitated for a moment, clearly not wanting to back down, but the look in Derek’s eyes told him this wasn’t a fight he was going to win. With a huff, Brant released your arm, glaring at Derek as he stepped back.
“You’re making a big mistake,” Brant muttered under his breath as he turned and walked away, but Derek paid him no mind.
As soon as Brant was gone, Derek turned to you, concern etched on his face. “You okay?” he asked gently.
You nodded, though your hand instinctively rubbed the spot on your arm where Brant had grabbed you. “Yeah, I’m okay. Thanks, Derek.”
“Anytime,” Derek said, his tone softening as he placed a reassuring hand on your shoulder. “You need anything, you let me know, alright?”
“Will do,” you replied, giving him a grateful smile.
Derek walked with you toward the elevator, determined to make sure you got to your car safely. The incident with Ledgers had shaken you more than you wanted to admit, but having Derek by your side brought a sense of security.
When you reached the garage, you spotted Spencer standing near Derek’s car, clearly waiting for his ride home. His eyes lit up with concern the moment he saw you, and as Derek explained the situation, his expression shifted from concern to anger.
“Hey, Reid, I’m going to walk Y/N to her car, then I’ll be back, okay?” Derek said, his tone firm as he made sure Spencer understood the seriousness of the situation.
“Oh, sure, what’s going on?” Spencer asked, his brows furrowed in confusion.
“Ledgers tried to grab at her. I want to make sure she gets out of here safe and sound,” Derek explained, his voice laced with protective determination.
“What?” Spencer’s voice boomed, the anger evident as he looked around, clearly ready to confront Ledgers himself. “Where is he?”
You quickly placed a hand on Spencer’s arm, trying to calm him down. “It’s okay, Spencer. Derek stepped in before he got too far.”
Spencer’s gaze softened as he looked at you, the concern in his eyes clear. “Are you okay?” he asked, his voice gentler now, but still full of worry.
“Yeah,” you nodded, offering him a reassuring smile. “I’m okay.”
Spencer hesitated for a moment, his eyes searching yours as if trying to determine if you were really alright. “Do you want me to come over tonight? Keep you company?” he offered, his voice sincere and filled with a desire to help.
Your heart warmed at his offer, and you nodded, grateful for his support. “Thank you, Spencer, that sounds really nice. Do you just want to ride with me?” you asked, knowing it would be easier for both of you to go together.
“Yeah, I do,” Spencer replied without hesitation, clearly wanting to be there for you in any way he could.
Derek, who had been watching the exchange with a knowing smirk, couldn’t resist a little teasing. “Have fun on your second date, lovebirds,” he quipped, the smirk growing wider as he saw the blush rise on both your cheeks.
Spencer gave Derek a half-hearted glare, but the warmth in his eyes betrayed his true feelings. “It’s not a date,” he mumbled, though there was a hint of a smile on his lips.
Derek just chuckled, patting Spencer on the back. “Whatever you say, pretty boy. Just take care of her.”
With that, Spencer stayed close by your side, the silent protector you hadn’t known you needed until now. As you both got into your car, the earlier tension faded away, replaced by the comforting knowledge that, no matter what, you had each other’s backs.
As you and Spencer sat across from each other at your dining table, enjoying the simple comfort of dinner together, Spencer’s thoughts kept circling back to what had happened earlier. The guilt gnawed at him, and he couldn’t shake the feeling that he should have done something—anything—to protect you from Ledgers. He had been so close, yet he had let the situation unfold without intervening.
Finally, he couldn’t keep it in any longer. Setting his fork down, he looked at you with a seriousness that made you pause. “Y/N, I’m so sorry I wasn’t there to help,” he said, his voice laced with regret.
You looked up from your plate, surprised by the sudden apology. “What? Oh, Spencer, it’s not your fault. You couldn’t have known.”
He shook his head, clearly not satisfied with that answer. “I should have waited for you,” he insisted, his guilt deepening. The thought of you being in a situation like that without him there to support you weighed heavily on his mind.
“You’re not required to wait for me,” you replied softly, trying to ease his worries. “It’s okay, really.”
Spencer hesitated, his eyes dropping to his plate as he wrestled with what he wanted to say next. He knew he had to be honest, even if it made him vulnerable. Taking a deep breath, he decided to take the plunge. “No, I know. I just…” He paused, gathering his courage before continuing. “I heard him asking you out, and I guess I didn’t want to stick around to hear you say yes.”
Your breath caught slightly at his admission, the pieces falling into place. It wasn’t just guilt driving Spencer’s apology—it was something deeper, something more personal. You could see the uncertainty in his eyes, the way he was trying to gauge your reaction.
“Spencer,” you began gently, reaching across the table to take his hand, “I would never have said yes to him. I’m not interested in Brant, and I’m certainly not interested in anyone who would treat me like that.”
He looked up at you then, the worry in his eyes softening as your words sank in. “I know, I just… I didn’t want to hear it, you know?” he admitted, his voice quiet but honest.
You squeezed his hand, offering him a reassuring smile. “I understand,” you said softly. “But I want you to know that you don’t have to worry about that. I can take care of myself.”
Spencer felt a pang of frustration as he realized his initial explanation hadn’t fully conveyed what he meant. He took a deep breath, deciding it was time to be as clear as possible, even if it made him nervous. “I know that, Y/N,” he began, his voice steady but filled with a new kind of vulnerability. “You’re more than capable of handling yourself—that’s not what I meant.”
“Oh?” you replied, your curiosity piqued. “What did you mean?”
Spencer hesitated for a brief moment, but then the words came out in a rush, fueled by the need to be honest with you. “I don’t want you to go out with someone else.”
You blinked, the weight of his words sinking in. “Someone else?”
“I want you to go out with me,” Spencer said, the vulnerability in his eyes now unmistakable. He had put everything out on the table, his feelings laid bare for you to see.
The realization hit you, and you felt your heart skip a beat. “Oh,” you managed, your voice soft as you absorbed what he was saying.
There was a moment of silence, and you could see the anxiety flickering in Spencer’s eyes as he waited for your response. His whole posture was tense, as if he was bracing himself for whatever came next.
“Do you… want that too?” Spencer asked, his voice quieter now, but filled with hope.
You bit your lip, feeling a smile spread across your face as your heart swelled with warmth. “I do,” you replied, the sincerity in your voice clear. The smile on your face widened as you saw the relief and joy that washed over Spencer’s features.
For a moment, neither of you spoke, the atmosphere between you thick with unspoken feelings and the excitement of what was to come. Then, Spencer’s lips curled into a shy, genuine smile that mirrored your own.
“So, when should we have our third date?” Spencer asked, a playful grin tugging at his lips.
You laughed, delighted by this lighter, more confident side of him. “Hmm. Tomorrow?” you suggested, your heart fluttering at the thought of spending more time with him.
“Sounds perfect,” Spencer agreed, his smile widening.
“Spencer?” you asked softly, your tone turning more serious as you looked into his eyes.
“Yeah?” he responded, his voice gentle but filled with anticipation.
“Can I kiss you before our third date?” you asked, your heart pounding as the words left your lips.
Spencer’s smile turned even softer, his eyes lighting up with warmth and affection. “I’d be offended if you didn’t,” he replied, his voice a tender mix of humor and sincerity.
With that, you leaned in, closing the small distance between you. Spencer met you halfway, his eyes fluttering shut as your lips touched in a soft, sweet kiss. It was gentle at first, both of you savoring the moment, the culmination of everything that had been building between you.
When you finally pulled back, your faces still close, you both wore matching smiles, the connection between you now unmistakable and full of promise.
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WIBTA if I intentionally included an allergen in some food so a racist couldn't eat it?
I (21M, white) recently found out that I have to attend a Thanksgiving meal with a terrible fucking person. My boyfriend "Tim" wants to go to his old roommate's/best friend's (Jacob) Thanksgiving. Jacob is great! He and Tim have been friends since they were kids, and Tim used to spend a lot of time at Jacob's house since his own home life was... not great. And Jacob's immediate family is wonderful, as well. However, Jacob's uncle "Dickwad" is racist. I went to Jacob's Thanksgiving last year and Dickwad was a dickwad. It started out okay, he and I talked about cars, but after a few beers Dickwad was very clearly racist. He also kept bragging about how he threatened a homeless man with a gun (the homeless man was trying to break into his car - it's pretty common in this area) and called him several racist derogatory terms. He never said the N-word, but it was only a matter of time, so I left quickly.
Well, Tim wants to go again this year. Everyone hates Dickwad but Jacob's parents say they can't NOT invite him since he's their brother. I say cut the bitch off, but it's not my family, and I don't want to leave Tim alone there since Dickwad has been cruel to Tim before (Tim is Asian and queer, but Dickwad thinks me and Tim are just friends and no one is about to tell him differently) and since I don't get to see Jacob that often. The rest of Jacob's family is chill and I know they would be disappointed if I didn't come.
Well, Tim recently informed me that if I'm making something to bring to Thanksgiving, Dickwad is allergic to cumin. How allergic? Not much. He'd get hives if he ate it, but he's fine being near it, touching it, etc. He just can't consume it. Everyone knows I love to cook, and I'm a damn good cook, too. So I'm planning on making something with cumin so Dickwad can't have any, because fuck him, and fuck his guns, too. No one else there is allergic to cumin. I figured if anyone asks, I'll tell them I didn't know/forgot. I asked Jacob what he thought and he thought it would be hilarious and told me to do it. I haven't said anything to Tim because he's a lot nicer and will probably try to stop me.
I don't know if this will get posted in time, but whatever. WIBTA if I put an allergen in food so a racist piece of shit can't eat it?
What are these acronyms?
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bee-wg · 3 months ago
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Year 4:
Beep Beep Beep Beep
“Oh my god, uncle! You’re gonna burn the house down!” Theo yelled.
“David, What happened? Is your hand bleeding?” Mom screamed
“Ahahaha, it’s nothing Chloe, don’t worry about it. I was just trying to make everyone a surprise breakfast,” Dad said.
“It’s nothing? There’s fire on the stove!” Mom said frantically.
“I got the fire extinguisher, don’t worry. Just a little mishap,” Dad said, trying to cheer them up.
“Uncle, you’re bleeding all over the fire extinguisher! We need to get him to the hospital,” Theo said.
“Hahaha, I guess I am a little clumsy,” Dad said.
Beep Beep Beep
“Someone please turn off the fire alarm, it’s stressing me out,” Mom asked
“What’s happening?” I asked, half asleep in my Pajamas.
Sometimes life surprises you, one moment, you were having a sweet dream. Then, you’re driving your bleeding father to the hospital in Pajamas. The new SUV does feel nice to drive, at least.
“I’m fine, guys. I think it must be the sugar. If I would’ve put more in it, this wouldn’t have happened,” Dad said.
“David, I love you, but don’t you EVER pull stupid stunts like that again,” Mom said, leaning on Dad’s shoulder.
Apparently, Dad wanted to surprise us with waffles for breakfast and thank Mom for all the delicious food she made. He was also hungry for a snack, so he broke Mom's one rule: Don’t mess with her kitchen.
The doctor said he could remove the cast in two months, about the time Theo and I graduate. He already got an internship in a restaurant, bringing home some fancy leftovers. 
Mom has not let off her sight from Dad since we got back. She gave him a firm warning and pinched his cheek. Now Dad gets ice cream and meals delivered to his mouth without lifting a finger.
I wish someone would do that for me. Imagine not having to leave the bed and constantly having sweets in your mouth. That would be a dream.
My thoughts disturb me sometimes. 
Since winning the competition, I have accepted that I will never be muscular again. The original plan was to savour everything I could for a year, then go on a diet. Mom and Theo have slowed down with the food so that I won’t eat until my stomach is about to burst, but they won’t refuse if I ask for something.
Now I am close to 500 pounds with my stomach always growling for more. I guess it’s just another fat ass behaviour I would have to accept.
Since losing weight is out of the question, I have figured out a way to keep my core muscle fit enough to support the enormous belly in front of me. It’s simple, I stick an 8-inch dildo from Seven’s house to my chair, and I would sit on it when I’m playing video games or watching a movie. When the itch gets too much, I can use my core muscles to lift myself up and down. This way, I get to work out and get off. It's not good for the chair, but who cares? It’s reinforced.
***
It was a regular lunchtime when Brad broke into my house again. Usually, he would greet my parents and head straight upstairs to perform witchcraft for all I care, but today, his footsteps are leading to my door.
Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit. Brad is the kind of asshole that does not knock. I still have the dildo in me!
I panicked and pulled up my pants before getting off the dildo.
He came in right as I flopped my belly down to cover the fact that my pants were not fully pulled up.
“Sup,” I said.
“Sup, Jay,” he reached out his fist for a bump.
“So, you know our last season of football in college just ended,” he said. 
Brad walked to my left to sit on my bed.
I rotate my seat to face him so he doesn’t see my ass hanging out in the back.
“Oh, fuck!” I yelped.
Fuck, the dildo twisted in the movement, now poking my prostate. 
“You okay, dude?” Brad asked.
“Of course, continue,” I said with the best smile I could muster.
“The guys are celebrating, so it’s like the last party for the team, and I was wondering if,”
“Okay, yeah, I’ll go,” I said quickly.
“Oh, that’s it? You usually don't like to go out or like- move at all,” he said, then stood up.
His sudden movement startled me, and the dildo jerked deeper.
“Are you sure you’re okay, dude?” Brad said, walking closer.
“I’m all good bruh, don’t worry,” I said.
I can feel my hole tensing, almost swallowing the dildo whole.
“I just don’t want you to be angry at me for fucking your cousin. If you want me to stop, I will,” he said.
“You what the who?” I said, baffled.
“I’m fucking,”
“Ew no, don’t tell me. I’m fine as long as you never mention doing that with my cousin ever again,” I said.
He let out a breath.
“Well, that’s something out of my chest. I’m going up now. I’ll come here and pick you up tomorrow night,” Brad said, rushing out the door.
I let out a breath too.
The locks will never be open after this traumatic experience.
My ass is still tingling, so I quickly fuck myself with the dildo to get over with it.
***
The drive to the house has been excruciatingly slow because Brad is a cautious driver. It leaves a lot of time to think without food distracting me.
I am now extremely aware of the bright yellow Pikachu face stretching across my belly. There aren't many clothes that fit me, and it’s been a while since I went out, so I didn’t bother buying new shirts. 
I haven’t seen them in a while. They’re gonna think I’m fucking lame.
“Dude, snap out of it. Everyone there misses you. I didn’t invite the assholes,” Brad said.
“…I guess.” 
“You’re doing the arm-scratching thing again, haven’t seen you doing that in a while,” Brad said.
“I’m going to put on some music, and you’re going to stop thinking, okay?” Brad added.
“Yeah, okay,” I replied.
When we opened the door, Marcus the quarterback greeted us, and half my worries melted away. 
He is about 300 pounds, which feels skinny to me now. At least I’m not the only fat one.
Now that I look into it, not everyone has defined abs. I don’t know why I expected everyone to be runway models. Even Brad is softer around the middle.
“Dude! Where have you been?” Aiden yelled.
“Oh shit, you look humongous, my guy,” Braxton said.
We quickly got back into the groove we had two summers ago.
Brad booted up a party game, and we tried our hardest to destroy each other.
We also caught up on what each of us was up to this past year, or what to do with our future. Aiden wants to marry his girlfriend, Marcus wants to join his boyfriend’s band, and Brad wants to be a freelance artist alongside his side job.
When the night came, They ordered some Chicken wings and pizzas.
“Fuck yeah, trash food! No more diet from Coach,” Aiden said, taking away half the pizza.
“By the way, I bought extra pizzas to see how much we can push ourselves,” Brad said.
I have a bad feeling about this.
“Of course, if it’s too much, we can always count on Jay,” Brad laughed.
There are six of us, with twenty large pizzas. I am screwed.
“It’s just some pizzas, no big deal. I can beat Jay easily,” Braxton, the most muscular guy in the group, said.
“Hahaha, don’t underestimate him, my dude,” Brad replied.
Except for Marcus, all of them are wimps. They started groaning and bitching after a few slices.
“Damn it, how do you make it look so easy,” Aiden asked.
“There’s a technique to it, dumb ass. I trained for this shit,” I answered.
Aiden then passed out from the food coma after six slices. 
Two more people soon followed after him.
Brad is on his way to his second pizza. His stomach has never looked this bloated before. Marcus is trying his hardest on his fourth one, but the guy is barely hanging on.
When the seventh pizza box emptied, I was stuffed beyond belief.
The guys woke up and refocused their energy on me to finish the rest.
“There’s only two left, people. Finish it,” I said, pointing at the boxes.
“We’re not on your level, Jay. You’re like, a pro at this,” Aiden said.
“Yeah, man. Only you can do it,” Brad said.
Braxton handed the pizza box over, and they started feeding me slice by slice.
“Come on Jay, you’re better than this,” Aiden said and rubbed my belly.
These people have no personal boundaries like always.
I am beyond capacity after the eighth one.
This was most likely a fucked up plan by Brad to show they don’t care I’m a fat ass. I still believed they wouldn’t like me because of my size until a few hours ago, now it seems ridiculous to reject all those party invites last year. Well, maybe I was up to something because now they’re trying to suffocate me with pizzas.
When Aiden stuffed the last of the slices in my mouth, everyone cheered.
Tonight was absurd, but I got my friends back. When some guys were not happy for a fat guy to be on the team, they stopped hanging out with me. I thought I was a lost cause.
“Dude, you better come back next time,” Aiden said.
“I’m gonna beat you next time, Jay. Watch it,” Braxton said.
“Awesome to have you back, man,” Marcus said.
It reminds me of that summer when we hung out by the river every time the fast food party room got too suffocating, when my worries were carried away by the water. 
“Thanks, Brad. For doing this,” I told him once we got in the car.
“No problem, I’m always here,” he answered.
I must have gotten too sentimental, or pizzas are clogging my brain, but I opened my Instagram and tabbed Recent in the search bar.
It seems like he made some new decorations for the coffee shop. 
I scrolled down to see the picture of the beach.
“Stop scrolling like a creep, Jay. Just call him,” he said.
“What?” I asked.
“He’s still waiting for that coffee,” Brad said.
“You still talk to Ave?” I asked.
“This is fucking depressing to watch, Jay. You guys were best friends,” he said.
“You know, I was kinda jealous of you guys back in the day. I was the skinny guy who got bullied on the side, and you were the guy on the team who still takes the time of day to befriend me. I only had you, and you also had him. It’s frustrating seeing you throw that away,” he finishes.
He doesn’t understand though. I’m a hypocrite who ignored Ave when he got fat. I don’t deserve his attention.
***
It’s been two weeks since our graduations and Dad getting his cast off. Mom has been working full-time, trying to figure out what we could do as a family to celebrate. It’s proven to be difficult when there are two 500-pound whales in said family. We can’t fit into any amusement park ride, and we’ll sink into the bottom of the ocean if we go to the beach. So, the rational thing to do is a picnic. At least that’s what I suggested. But Mom insisted a camping trip was the best family bonding option. For two whales.
It’s fine, I thought to myself. We have done this plenty of times.
After stuffing Dad in the front seat and the emergency food boxes in the back of the SUV. Mom explained the bags of medicines she bought like a flight attendant with the safety instructions. She must have been traumatized by Dad’s injury. He’s not allowed to do anything remotely dangerous, like moving his hand to eat. Hence, the army medical packs.
Mom went through the bottles of fox spray, bear spray, mosquito spray, sun spray and pepper spray, and then we finally got moving.
On our way there, we had some intermissions at the gas stations to replenish snacks. Theo whined it, but this was all his fault anyway.  If only he hadn’t grown our monstrous appetite, and forced musical soundtracks to be played in the car for hours, I might have skipped over a few snack breaks.
Recently, my weight has stabilized at about 520 pounds. Thank God my exercises on the chair worked; otherwise, I’m going to blow up on my way to the camp. 
“Guys, Brad said safe trip, and he’ll miss us,” Theo said.
“He probably only meant you,” I replied.
Theo has been giggling for an hour straight, looking at his phone.
“I’ll miss you, Bradley. The signal’s breaking off. See you soon!” Theo said.
We set up the camp in a few hours. By the time we were done, the sun had already set, giving the mountain an orange hue. 
Today we’re going up to Sunshore Lake. It’s going to be a steep walk, but I’m ready to flex my athletic prowess.
It was not a good sign that I was already sweating before arriving at the entrance.
“David, this is a bit steeper than I remembered. Do you guys want to stay down here?” Mom said.
“Nah. Jay and I will do it. This is a piece of cake compared to what we used to do. Right, son?” Despite not having to walk for more than a year, Dad remains confident.
“Hell yeah, Dad. Let’s show them what we're made of!” I said.
I give up. We’re a third of the way through, and I can feel my belly weighing me down.
“Come on -huff, son, you -huff-can do it!” Dad said, looking worse than I do.
Theo looked at us and chuckled.
“Guys, I’m so sorry! I should’ve known this was too much,” Mom said, panicking.
“It’s- it’s all good, Chloe. Remember you married the- huff- Star athlete back in college?” Dad smiled at Mom and gave her a thumbs up.
“Need a hand?” Theo asked me.
“Isn’t that too much?” I motioned to our luggage on his back.
“Oh, that’s nothing,” he swung my arm behind his shoulder and carried me.
He’s been doing that more often than not when I couldn’t get up. Probably the reason he got all those muscles under his shirt. What happened to the noodle arm ginger?
“Thanks, man. I guess I don’t have to roll back down there,” I said.
When we were halfway through, Dad told us solemnly.
“I- I don’t think I can make it.”
“Noooo, David I’m sorry! I didn’t mean for things to end this way,” Mom said with tears in her eyes.
“I love you guys. You’re the light of my life. I am honour to be a husband, a father, and a-” 
“Dad, you’re not dying. We’re almost there,” I said.
“Is it too late to call an emergency helicopter?” Mom asked.
“David, I love you, but I really don’t want to touch you right now. Can you pull through yourself, baby?” Mom said, looking at the sweat ball that was Dad.
Theo burst out laughing, and I couldn’t help but join too, even if I was in an equally dire situation.
When we got to the top, everyone was exhausted. 
We cleaned ourselves up with towels, and Mom went to check the Kayaking information. 
Dad and I were too big for it, as expected, so we went to find a good spot for fishing.
“I’m so excited. I have never kayaked before!” Theo said, looking as refreshed as ever.
Before we set up our fishing gear, they eagerly ditched us.
The Lake looked as calm as ever. It's boring with little going on.
Mom and Theo are probably in the middle of the lake now.
Staring at the stale water, I realized Dad was not perfect. He’s a little stubborn, clueless sometimes, but that’s what I like about him. I don’t know if anyone would find my quirks appealing. if Ave would.
I’m just a Lazy food addict who basically lives in his mom’s basement, so maybe not.
“Jay?” Dad said.
“What’s up, Dad?” I asked.
“You think too much, buddy.”
“You were always an overthinker since you were a toddler,” Dad said.
“I remember you told me you wanted to play football instead of hockey because hockey will give you frostbites, and freeze you into those Neanderthals from the museums,” Dad said.
“Oh Gosh,” he still remembers.
“You know what?” Dad said, then quickly took off his shirt.
“Let’s go for a swim,” He said with a smile.
“But the fishing,” I said.
“Don’t worry about the fish,” He said, walking back and charging towards the water.
The cannonball created a massive splash, making me completely wet.
“Mother of God, it’s freezing! Did you see that, Jay?” He said with a laugh.
“Yeah, that was pretty cool,” I chuckled. It’s not every day you see a chunky beast jumping into the water.
“Come on, Jay, take it off and jump!” he said.
I have not taken off my shirt in public since middle school, when I started to notice my flaws. Even in the locker room, I would find a bathroom stall to change.
“Don’t overthink it, Jay! Trust me!” Dad said.
Don’t overthink, I thought.
I took off my shirt and back off. When I pick up the pace, my entire body is wobbling.
With all the strength I have, I jumped.
Shit, this was a bad idea.
The cold water hit me.
First, nothing but white bubbles clouded me. Then, schools of fish surrounding me appeared in my vision, hurrying away from the meteor strike. I moved my legs slightly apart on the lakebed, so I don’t step on the tiny crabs while they take refuge in the kelp forest.
“Holy Fuck, it’s freezing!” I said as I pulled my head out of the water.
“Hahahaha, watch your mouth, Jay. You don’t want to summon your mother here,” Dad said.
The view down there was breathtaking; it was what I expected, but not. The fish looked different from a simple change of scenery. I wouldn't have known if I had never jumped.
“I’m proud of you, Jay. That was a huge splash. Aren’t the views here amazing?” he said.
“Thank you, Dad. I wouldn’t have done it without you,” I said.
“You did it all by yourself, kid,” he replied.
We kept exploring the lake until our stomachs growled in protest.
After setting up the fire, we roasted some fish in the bucket and made S’mores from caramel marshmallows. 
Theo and Mom joined and we talked about the stories we had at school or some embarrassing stories of me Dad has kept.
The next day, we packed up our stuff to leave. The mountain is beautiful and all, but Dad and I are starving for some real food.
On our way down, I realized that I had been the biggest enemy to myself. There are so many supportive people surrounding me when my self-doubt overshadows them.
The signal bars slowly appear one by one. I opened Avery’s profile picture.
If he rejects me, I’ll be embarrassed in front of a person I really care about.
I shouldn’t overthink.
There’s nothing more I can lose when I already lost his company.
So I texted.
“Hey, Ave. I know I’m late, but would you mind if I take you up on your offer for the coffee?”
“...” a text bubble appeared.
“I thought you'd never ask.”
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harrysfolklore · 6 months ago
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growing family - verstappen!yn
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pairing: verstappen!yn x boyfriend!charles, best fiend!oscar x verstappen!yn
verstappen!yn smau | masterlist | my patreon
You hummed along to the music coming from the speakers of your boyfriend's Monaco home as you stirred some pasta sauce for dinner.
Despite being to Monaco countless of times before, there was something different about being there with Charles for his home race week.
You enjoyed being alone in his apartment while he ran some errands or spent some time training, you felt at home and the company of Leo, the puppy you adopted together made everything better.
However, your time to yourself cooking dinner for you and your boyfriend was interrupted by your phone ringing.
oscar pastry 🥐 FaceTime Video
Frowning because you weren't quite expecting a call from your best friend, you answered.
"Hello mum," he said once his face popped up on screen.
"Mum?" you asked confused, "What are you even talking about?"
"Have you not seen twitter? I'm your kid now, Charles adopted me," he shrugged, "Where's my brother Leo?"
"Oscar are you drunk or something," you laughed at your best friend, "I haven't been on twitter since like, last year."
"Well log in, dumbass," he rolled his eyes and you flipped him off, "Hey! That's not the way to treat your son."
"Gosh stop saying that, we've been best friends since we were 15 it's weird," you shook your head as you opened the twitter app, luckily you weren't logged out because you certainly didn't remember your password.
And the first thing you saw pop up in your timeline was the banter between your boyfriend and your best friend.
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"You guys are so annoying," you threw your head back in laughter as you read the tweets, "And you're both serious about it too."
"Of course, I'm a Leclerc-Verstappen now," he laughed along, "Shit, does that make Max my uncle?"
"It does," your eyes widened, "Are you sure you want that?"
"Well I wanted you guys to adopt me so you give me back the attention your boyfriend stole from me, I never consider Max would become my uncle," he teased, making you laugh.
"Come on pastry, we've talked about this," you gave him a serious look, "You'll always be my best friend and me being with Charles now would never change that."
"I know, I'm just messing around," a small smile played on his face, "You guys seem so happy and I love that for you."
As if on cue, you heard the front door open and your boyfriend's voice calling for you, Leo instantly barking and running to the door when he noticed his presence.
"Mon ange, I'm back," he said as he entered the kitchen, Leo cradled on his arm, "Missed you."
He pulled you closer y the waist and kissed the side of your head, making you smile and lean into him.
"Yikes, I didn't need to see that," Oscar's voice was heard from the phone screen, making you laugh.
"Oh hey son," Charles said to him, "How's my new favorite adopted child doing?"
"Hey dad, just calling to check in on my amazing parents and my little brother," he said, glancing at Leo who was now comfortably settled in Charles' arms.
"This is so weird, stop it," you cringed, making both of them laugh and Charles pull you to him again as you covered your face.
"We're a big happy family, mon amour. Ollie, Leo and now Oscar, the Leclerc-Verstappen family."
You smiled at him, pecking his lips a couple of times.
"Okay that's my cue, I don't want to see you guys making out," Oscar said shaking his head, "Good night, mum and dad, see you this weekend."
"Say bye to your brother too," Charles said, moving Leo closer to the camera.
"Bye Leo!"
As Oscar hung up, you couldn't help but laugh at the entire interaction, "So he's our son now?"
"Yes, and he seems to be enjoying it a lot," Charles chuckled, setting Leo down on the floor, "Who would've thought we'd have an adopted son before getting married or having our own kids?"
"Don't get any ideas, Leclerc," you playfully swatted his chest, "We're not adopting every one of my friends who jokes about it."
"Why not? We could build a whole team," Charles teased, wrapping his arms around you from behind and resting his chin on your shoulder and kissing it chastely, "We'd be the coolest family ever."
"It's your secret plan to make everyone on the grid your family? Dating Max's sister and now adopting Oscar, you're something else, Leclerc."
Charles laughed loudly at your words, throwing his head back and making you laugh along.
"Well, what can I say," he shrugged, "I'm charming and people love me."
"That you are," you smiled, kissing him gently.
That you are," you smiled, kissing him gently.
"Now, let me help with dinner," Charles offered, moving to the stove and checking the sauce. "It smells amazing, just like you."
"Smooth talker," you teased, handing him a spoon to stir. "Just make sure it doesn’t burn."
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justanotherpjofan · 2 months ago
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You know most of the time people get angry at Cale because he can't for the life of him communicate things as they are, specifically regarding his health and seems to be unable to register his family worries for him.
And to that I said, of fucking course, his whole life on earth was horrible and he didn't develop emotionally because let's do a quick recap:
His parents died.
His abusive uncle took him in
He ended up in an orphanage.
When he was twenty the world collapsed.
He was bullied because he didn't have abilities.
Then the shelter he was in was destroyed
Once again he was alone until he met with LSH and CJS and let's not forget he was already 20 something.
Not long after they died as well.
Then he closed off with everyone because he didn't want to get attached just to lose them again.
He woke up in a novel
GoD confirmed he was supposed to die not CJS nor LSH.
He had to face his past again due to SG test.
...Well you get my point by now he was a little too busy surviving for him to actually develop self worth, most of his life he learned he wasn't someone who deserves affection or care and unfortunately no one said otherwise and if they did they die leaving him worse than before.
So it is no wonder he keeps things to himself all the time, after all why would others worry about him it makes no sense? At least from his pov.
That's why he is so detached at the beginning, still he can't help but try fixing things because it is the only action he knows
Surviving and saving others is so deeply engrained in him that unknowingly he keeps getting in a bigger mess. He got attached against his best efforts and gives more than he can take because he is not used to getting, the people who ever gave him anything always ended up dying before he could understand being emotional or plainly having emotions is normal.
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starkwlkr · 9 months ago
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the hamilton girls | lewis hamilton
based on dave grohl’s interviews about his daughters <33 he’s my favorite girl dad i can always trust dave grohl
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Lewis Hamilton was many things. A Formula 1 driver, a seven time world champion, an idol, an inspiration to many young kids, but most of all, he was a husband and father to three girls. His family was everything to him. He enjoyed being a dad to his three precious girls.
Maeve was his oldest. She was born on a sunny day in 2013. Then came his second, Violet, born in 2017. Violet instantly became Maeve’s best friend. Lewis and Y/n were thankful that Maeve didn’t go through a jealous phase. Lastly, came their third girl, Gracie, born in early 2020.
The Hamilton girls would join their father in the paddock when they didn’t have school. Dressed in Mercedes merch, they walked hand in hand with their mother to the Mercedes garage. The entire team loved them, it was impossible not to.
“Dad! I really want lemonade!” Violet poked Lewis’ side until he payed attention to her.
“There’s no lemonade here. Have some water.” Lewis suggested, but Violet frowned. Lewis didn’t want his daughter to be upset so he directed the girls to Mercedes hospitality in hopes that someone could make the girls a lemonade. In the end, his three daughters ended up with their lemonade.
At one point, they even because Twitter famous whenever they were at the races. Violet had a habit of sleeping even before the race ended so when the camera showed Lewis celebrating his win, the camera panned over to Lewis’ family showing little Violet asleep with her mouth slightly open in her mom’s arms.
Maeve was half asleep, but she still made a heart with her hands. Gracie was with her grandma, but you were pretty sure she was asleep as well.
But when they weren’t attending races, the Hamilton girls were back in school. Whenever Lewis had time off, he would pick up the girls from school, giving you some time to yourself. He knew how the school pickup process was, what he didn’t know was how long it would take. When it was finally his time to park in front of the school, a teacher walked up making Lewis roll down the window.
The teacher was taken by surprise when she saw Lewis. “Um . . Who are you here to pick up, sir?”
“Maeve and Violet Hamilton.” He replied. Then the teacher nodded and walked back to the school. Seconds later, his two girls walked patiently towards their dad’s black Mercedes. Lewis could feel the other parents staring at him. It wasn’t everyday that Lewis Hamilton came to a children’s school.
Maeve opened the backseat door and climbed in along with Violet. They looked exhausted, probably from all the running they did during recess.
“How was school?” Lewis asked as he drove away.
“We went to the library today and I got a book. It’s about sports and your face is in it.” Violet said as she got the book out from her backpack.
“Really? What does it say?” Lewis questioned, curious as to what the book said. The girls weren’t really interested in formula 1, so he was confused as to why Violet even checked out the book.
“It says you won seven titles and then i stopped reading because I was bored. I only got it because I wanted to show you and mom that uncle Nico was in the book too.”
His girls always made him laugh. They could brighten up his day even if he was at his lowest. He was such a proud dad too, often bringing up his daughters during interviews and posting pictures of them on instagram. During his Jimmy Kimmel interview, he took any chance he got to talk about his family.
“And do your daughters understand that their dad is a seven time world champion?” Jimmy asked.
Lewis chuckled. “They don’t really care.” He said then the audience, along with Jimmy, laughed. “No, they know what I do for work, but when they were younger they thought I sold cars.”
“You sold cars? How did they come up with that?” Jimmy laughed.
“Their mum explained that I work with cars, that was all, so they assumed I sold cars because at home I have several. Then I think it was the Monaco Grand Prix where they finally got an understanding of what exactly I do. They watched the race and when it was over, I asked them what they thought of it and all I got was ‘I don’t know’ and that’s when my wife said that halfway through the race they asked her for her phone so they could watch their cartoons.” Lewis explained.
He remembers that day clearly. The girls weren’t interested in cars, they rather watch reruns of Gravity Falls. He wasn’t mad either, he was glad that they didn’t get frustrated and start causing chaos around the paddock.
Him mentioning his girls because a regular thing. During press conferences, he was often asked about his girls, more specifically if they would follow his footsteps into the world of F1.
“They don’t even care about the races.” Lewis said as the other drivers bursted out laughing. “My oldest, Maeve, she did have a phase where she liked cars, but she’s transitioned into learning about dinosaurs. She says she wants to be an paleontologist so I don’t have to worry about her.”
“Her birthday is coming up, no?” Max asked. “I’ll buy her one of those fossil kits. I think she’ll love it.”
“And what about your other daughter?”
“She falls asleep every time, I don’t think we will see her racing anytime soon. I’m telling you, they don’t care.” Lewis laughed.
“They don’t care about your world titles?” Charles asked smiling.
“They don’t care! To them, I’m just their dad. They’re like ‘daddy, I need my lemonade now’ it’s kinda funny actually. But I love my girls.”
The Hamilton girls loved their dad to death, it was clear, even if they didn’t care about his world titles or his reputation in F1. He was the best dad to them and that was all they cared about.
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yohanseyebrowmole · 2 months ago
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Indelible | Jacaerys Velaryon
(adj. impossible to erase or forget)
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Pairing: Jacaerys Velaryon x fem!reader
Sum: Jacaerys realises he should have listened to you and told everyone about the two of you too late...
Or was it too late?
or in which
Jacaerys breaks up with you two years after secretly dating you, and you get wind of his potential engagement to your cousin the heir to your family's company.
Word count: 3,692 (give or take:/ I edited it and wasn't bothered to recheck the wc)
Warnings: idk nothing much. I tried to avoid using y/n but ended up using it like thrice (I think)
a/n: Reader's mother is the second child of a huge businessman and took on her husband's name upon marriage, but has business ties (her maiden name is Dayne but its not a big deal). Reader's father is a well-respected lawyer but it's not relevant. Jace is heir to the Targaryen family business. He's a little slow and doesn't connect dots until later on lol.
───────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────────
☆ Loving Jacaerys Velaryon was easy.
Keeping the fact that you loved him a secret was the hard part.
Two years.
For two years, you loved Jacaerys, and now you are hearing that his family was actively trying to set him up with your cousin.
What’s worse is that it makes perfect sense for them to get together.
Jacaerys is set to inherit the family company from his mother and your cousin is set to inherit your family's company from your uncle.
Why did he want to keep your relationship a secret in the first place? You didn't know, but you respected his decision nonetheless.
But two years of not being able to tell anyone?
You wanted to tell your parents and your older brother, you wanted to gossip with said cousin about your relationship, but Jace remained steadfast in his decision not to tell anyone.
He probably got fed up with you asking to become public and broke up with you, at least that was what you originally thought.
Two years of dates and I love you's gone just like that, all because Jace wanted to keep your relationship a secret and you were tired of not being able to tell anyone.
You had no interest in your mother's family company to be honest. No care for business or the likes, your interest is and will always lay within anthropology.
You loved it.
It was the perfect balance of history, science and mystery and everyone who knew you knew how much you loved a good mystery.
You loved the drama and the slight chaos whenever you got called in, and they say they found a body and having to find out what happened to it.
What was their story? What were they like? What was their life like? How did they end up like this?
Sometimes, it was a simple burial. Sometimes, it was an accidental death.
The murders were always the most interesting.
Of course, as an intern, you were usually not always assigned to the murder cases, but you always accepted any that came your way.
You loved the hunt, your curiosity always getting the best of you and the sense of relief, pride and justice that filled you once you found the identity of who was lying in front of you and who was responsible for it was always worth it.
You loved finding clues that helped catch the one responsible for the person's death, and being able to give families closure after their loved ones went missing was rewarding to you.
Yes, it was confronting and disgusting at times like the time a body was found at the landfill and you had to sift through weeks of rubbish to find missing bones (you were sure you would never be able to smell anything other than rotten food ever again) but you loved it regardless.
───────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────────
You were once again sitting in the library at your corner.
It was one of your favourite spots on campus.
The window provided a perfect distraction when she needed a little break from her work. It was far enough from the other tables that no one bothered her but close enough that she could watch people go about their day when she was bored.
The shelfs also obscured their line of view of the table giving you privacy was always an added bonus. 
“Having fun, pretty girl?”
You blink, shifting your gaze away from the window where you had been watching what seemed to be a very heated fight between a couple. You smile at your boyfriend. 
“Hey,” You said. “You're here earlier than normal.”
Jace sits down next to you, letting his bag drop from his shoulder onto the floor.
“Finished early.”
“You look tired,” you said, taking note of the light dark circles under his eyes. 
“Cause I am,” Jace groans, leaning into you. He practically shoves his face into the crook of your neck.
You shift sideways so he can rest his head comfortably and run your hand through his hair gently undoing any notes made from the wind outside.
“You should go home and sleep if you're tired, Jace.”
“Don’t wanna,” Jacaerys responds, not bothering to move his head from the crook of your neck. “Just wanna be here with you.”
You can’t help the upward tug of your lips.
“Careful Velaryon, someone might assume that you're obsessed with me.”
Jace huffs out a laugh, finally lifting his head and sitting back. 
“They would assume correctly. What are you doing later?”
“I don’t know,” You shrug. “But it seems like you know what I’m going to do.”
Jace grins, grabbing his bag from the floor and digging around it before pulling out two tickets. “You are going to go visit that new exhibit at the museum with me.”
“You got tickets?" You can't hide your excitement. "How? I tried getting them for weeks but they were sold out, I even asked mum if she could pull some strings.”
“A magician never reveals his secrets,” Jace smiles. "You were going to ask your mum to get you tickets?"
You shrug lightly, grabbing the tickets from him, inspecting them before you all but throw yourself at him, hugging him. You pull away but grab one of his hands intertwining your fingers with his. 
Jace nods along to your random facts about Egyptian history as he watches your eyes light up as you giggle and ramble on about the exhibit, squeezing your hand, bringing it up to his lip and kissing the back of it. 
You barely react to the affection, already gotten used to the gestures and continue talking about Ramesses the great and his military accomplishments.
───────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────────
Your first thought was that it was your fault.
Clearly, you must have done something wrong for Jace to break up with you.
You rack your brains for weeks afterwards to try and figure out what you've done wrong, but as you sit there in your little corner of the library, you realise you've done absolutely nothing wrong.
So then you wonder, why would he break up with you?
Was it because you brought up the fact of a public relationship more often than not these days? Did he suddenly think you weren’t pretty enough? Or were you and your random rants now annoying to him?
The tip of the pencil you had been using to draw snaps.
You thought it would be easy to get over him. After all no one knew you two were together so you weren't getting constant pity glances.
Turns out it was harder. Way harder.
You didn't have anyone to rant to, no one to lean on or cry to and you were practically at the end of your patience, about to call your brother and spill everything to him when you heard someone call your name.
"Oh my god finally!"
You turn only to be met with your best friend Baela, who coincidentally was also Jace's cousin. You smile at her, forcing yourself to push your previous thoughts to the back of your mind.
"What's got you so excited?" You ask her.
She plops down on the seat next to you.
“Why are you so hard to find?”
You laugh. “I’m always here Baela. You know that.”
She rolls her hands before leaning forward. You notice the glint in her eyes. Mischief. Her eyes were basically the same as Jace’s aside from the colour difference.
“It’s Jace,” she said. “Mum told me that Aunt Rhae was trying to set him up with Elise Dayne.”
You freeze slightly. “What?”
“I know! I was shocked as well!” Baela smiles, not realising the bombshell she had just dropped on you. 
“Elise Dayne?”
Baela nods and rambles on about how she had seen Elise and Jace on a date the other day and how cute they had looked together. You smile and nod along but all you can think about was this was why he broke up with you.
Baela leaves to go to class but only after after telling you everything.
She leaves and you sit there for what felt like hours trying to wrap your head around what she had told you.
Jacaerys had broken up with you only to get together with your cousin. 
You gather your things and walk to your car.
With your hands on the wheel you scream before you start laughing.
The laugh turns into choked out sobs as you let yourself cry for the first time since Jace left you.
───────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────────
Seeing Jacaerys walk into your family home with his family had not been in your plans for tonight.
Frankly, if you had known this very important and must not miss family meeting was to officially announce his engagement to your cousin, you would have accepted that case on the unknown skeleton they found last week or gotten your professors to make something up so you could have an excuse not to turn up.
Instead, here you are, forced to stand and watch Jace smile and greet your cousin and her parents. 
You stand in a corner next to your brother, tongue poking the inside of your cheek in slight annoyance.
You can tell the exact moment Jacaerys notices your presence. 
You send him an overly sweet smile and watch him falter, confusion and something else flashing in his eyes before he blinks and puts his mask back up, turning and shaking your mother’s hand.
He had always been good at that, pretending that nothing was bothering him.
Your mother smiles and turns to you and your brother. Your brother nudges you, and you quickly plaster a pleasant smile on your face.
“This is my daughter and my oldest.”
Your brother shakes Jace’s hand and introduces him. Jacaerys turns his attention to you. 
“Hi,” you smile, reaching out and shaking his hand. “Y/n. Pleasure to meet you.”
You watch him gulp, smile and greet you back.
You keep your distance and stay quiet the entire time the two families eat. You know your brother has noticed because he keeps sending you odd looks, but you brush them off, not bothering to pay him any mind or explain your current predicament to him.
What does bother you is Jace.
He keeps looking over at you, most of the time it’s short glances but sometimes you can feel his gaze boring into the side of your head as you answer the questions his brothers, Lucerys and Joffery ask about your degree, his mother occasionally asking a few of her own.
You make sure to keep your answers brief. Your degree was hardly dinner conversation, and you didn't want anyone's dinner resurfacing in any way.
You make sure to turn to him and give him a smile. He snaps out of his daze every time, blinking a couple of times before tuning back into whatever your cousin was talking about.
At some point in the night, you get up, telling your brother you needed to get something from your room.
You don’t notice Jace’s eyes following you as you walk away, and you sure as hell don’t hear him excuse himself to go to the bathroom.
You startle slightly as you feel someone grab your wrist. You don’t even need to turn around to realise who it was.
The soft scent of sandalwood tells you enough.
“What are you doing?” you hiss under your breath, looking over his shoulder to make sure no one had seen the both of you before pulling him into your room. 
Jace looks around, taking in his surroundings.
He can’t really help it. It was the first time he had been in your room. He notices the photo wall full of polaroids you told him about making and the string of fairy lights you had bought together after convincing him to go shopping together. 
“I didn’t know you were related to her,” Jace said.
“I told you who my mother was,” you scoff. “It was pretty fucking obvious Jace.”
Neither of you notice the person standing by the door, listening in on the conversation through the slight crack.
“Well you could have straight up told me,” Jace argues.
“You're arguing with me because I didn’t give you my mother’s government name? Are you serious? I told you her name, where she worked and what she did. I even told you she was helping coordinate that joint event with your mother! I couldn’t have been more obvious, it’s not my fault you couldn’t put two and two together!”
Jace opens and closes his mouth. It's not like she was wrong.
“This,” you whisper. “This is why you broke up with me? If you had known, would you have stayed? Would you have let me tell everyone that we dated?”
Jace winces at your harsh tone but otherwise stays silent, giving you your answer. 
“I can’t believe you.”
“You think I wanted this?” Jace said. “You think I knew my parents were gonna set me up with her?”
“Clearly you did since you refused to tell anyone about us.”
“That’s not -”
“Don’t,” you cut him off. “Just don’t.”
You sigh and shake your head.
“You need to go. Leave first, and then I can follow after a couple of minutes.”
Jace grabs your hand before you can push him towards the door. “Wait, just -”
“You need to go,” you repeat. “If you haven’t noticed your fiancé-to-be is down the hall along with the rest of my family and we both have better things to do then stand here and argue over a topic we already know our stance on. Also, I have somewhere I need to be.”
With that, you pull your hand away from his and walk away. He follows you into the hallway, hears you say bye to your family, and watches you turn to leave.
Fuck.
How was he going to fix this?
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Looking back on it, Jacaerys really didn't know how he didn't put two and two together.
He had met your mother on numerous occasions considering that she worked with his mother for joint events and whatnot.
You were practically a carbon copy of your mother as well. 
The hair, the eyes, the intellect. Everything about you screamed Dayne and his stupid brain couldn’t piece together the fact that you were related. 
How the fuck did he not know?
All those times when you had told him your mother was away on business and he had commented that his mother was gone as well. 
He groans, running a hand down his face. 
Rhaenyra, who had been standing by the doorway for the past five minutes watching her son have what looked like a mental breakdown, finally decides to make her presence known.
It was time to talk some sense into her son.
“Jace.”
“Mother.”
“Can I come in?” His mother asks. 
Jace nods and she walks into the room.
“Want to tell me what’s on your mind?” she questions. “Luke is complaining about your constant groans.”
Jace normally would have laughed but all he can do is sigh. 
“What’s wrong, Jace?” his mother asks again.
“I messed up,” Jace mutters. “Really bad, and I don’t know how to fix it.”
His mother nods, walking forward and sits beside him on the bed. 
“Why don’t you tell me everything so I can help?”
Jace looks at her, hesitates for a moment before the flood gates open, and he tells her everything. 
He tells her about how you two met, about your first date, about how he wanted to keep your relationship a secret, and you had been okay with that for a while.
He tells her how he broke up with you because she wanted him to get together with your cousin. 
He doesn’t leave anything out, and his mother just sits and listens to everything. 
When he’s done she stays quiet.
“Jace,” she asks softly. “Why didn’t you tell me? Why didn’t you say anything?”
Jace forces himself to hold back the tears threatening to spill out of his eyes.
“I don’t know. I don’t -” he shakes his head. “I was afraid that you wouldn’t approve, and I didn’t want to lose her, but I guess it’s too late for that now.”
Rhaenyra reaches out and holds his hands. 
“If I had known you loved someone like that,” she said. “I wouldn’t have set you up. I would never deny you your happiness. Even if she wasn’t what I envisioned for you, I wouldn’t have made you leave her, Jacaerys.”
His bottom lip wobbles. “What do I do now?”
Rhaenyra smiles and whips away a stray tear from his cheek.
“Jace?”
He hums.
“Do you like her?”
“What?”
“Do you like her?”
“I love her,” Jace said. “A lot.”
His mother smiles. “Then what are you doing here?”
He stays quiet, blinking at his mother.
“If you love her, why aren’t you with her?” His mother said. “Go get her back, Jace. If you love her, fight for her.”
Jacaerys stands up quickly and nods. He grabs a jacket from his chair and is gone the next second.
Rhaenyra watches him leave shaking her head with a soft smile.
That foolish boy.
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You were on campus, specifically at the building where your professors kept the unidentified bodies that had been sent over after being found.
You weren't allowed to have phones near the workstations or the bodies and even if you were you would have never bothered to bring it up with you.
Who in their right mind wants to touch their phone with people juice on their hands, regardless of whether or not you were wearing gloves?
Not to mention that you would have kept having to change your gloves as well, and that would do your head in. 
Your phone was in your bag, which in turn was in your personal locker outside, which meant you had no idea that Jacaerys had been trying to get a hold of you for the past hour.
You had no idea that he was calling you or texting you to ask for your whereabouts. 
Luckily for him, you were slightly predictable. 
You had just finished writing down your notes for the Jane Doe in front of you and making sure her bones were locked away and secure. 
You swiped your student card into the security slot, and the doors outside opened. Smiling and waving to the security guards stationed outside the lab, you grabbed your bag from the the opposite wall, holding the lockers.
You push open the door and stop short.
It was raining, because of course it was. 
You put your notes in your bag and started walking to your car, which was conveniently parked at the far end of the parking lot. 
You had been too busy re-reading and protecting your over your notes while speed-walking to your car to realise that Jacaerys had been waiting outside waiting for you.
You couldn’t hear him call your name over the sound of the rain.
When the rain suddenly stops falling on you, you look up only to be met with the slight of an umbrella. 
You turn confused and are met with a panting Jacaerys.
“You walk really fast,” he said, slightly bent over as he caught his breath.
You just stare at him. “What are you doing here?”
He stands up straighter. 
“Uh, I came to apologise.”
“What?”
“I’m sorry,” Jace said. “For everything. I’m sorry for being stupid and not putting two and two together. For keeping us a secret and breaking up with you. I’m sorry.”
“Where is this coming from?” you question.
“I came to a realisation,” Jace answered. “I can’t live without you.”
You raise an eyebrow. “Is that right?”
“I hate the fact that we aren’t together anymore. I hate the fact that I didn’t tell anybody we were together,” Jace said. “I hate being away with you. I hate not being with you. I hate not being able to hold and tell you I love you every day. I’ll do better this time. I swear it.”
“Careful Velaryon,” you say, stepping forward. “People could assume you are obsessed with me.”
Jace’s lips tug upwards, and he nods, closing the gap between the two of you completely, leaning down.
“They would assume correctly.” 
The world around the two of you fades into the background as he leans forward, his lips brushing against yours. 
The air around the both of you seemed to warm. You don’t know who leans in first, and you don’t care. 
All you cared about was the fact that Jacaerys was kissing you again. That he was yours again.
Your eyes flutter close as your lips meet, and the umbrella protecting the two of you from the rain drops to the floor as he pulls you closer.
You don’t register that you drop your bag to hold onto his collar and pull him even closer. 
You could have sworn lighting flashed through the sky as your lips met, but maybe that was you imagining things. You had almost forgotten what it felt like to kiss him. 
Those sparks when your lips touched his, that feeling of something more.
Of something real.
Your heart skips a beat
“You know you’re stuck with me forever now right?” Jace said as he pulled away smiling.
You laugh and Jace sees that familiar sparkle of light in your eyes. The ones that remind him of stars.
“I think it’s you that’s stuck with me.”
He grins leaning in to kiss you again. “I love you.”
“And I love you,” you smile into the kiss.
A particularly cold and harsh gust of wind coupled with the booming sound of thunder breaks the moment and you shiver.
Jace goes to pick up the umbrella that had fallen. Luckily, the wind hadn't carried it too far off.
Your eyes follow him before they fall on your wet bag on the floor. The bag that had your notes. The bag that held the notes that you had been painstakingly working on for the past few hours. 
You scream, causing Jace to jump.
“You little shit! You made me drop my notes! I take it back! I hate you!”
Jacaerys laughs as you pick up your bag and hit him with it. He runs away as you chase him in the rain, cursing him out for letting you ruin your notes. 
You really wouldn’t have it any other way. 
Well, except maybe with dry notes. 
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Thank you to my bby girl @icarusignite for pre-reading this and thirsting over Jace to an almost unhealthy degree with me ily<3
Go read her fics or else (this may or may not be a threat)
Written by Yor <3
657 notes · View notes
abbyfmc · 3 months ago
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Yandere Yandere (Fatherly) Emperor and Empress (Maternal) x Daughter! Reader:
Think about it.
I imagine that after a long line of princes, the yandere empress finally has a princess, and both parents are delighted with her, since she was the first daughter after many years of trying. Your father, the emperor, agrees that you be raised under the care of the empress (your mother).
From the moment you were born, you were never left alone for a single minute. When the Empress wasn't with you, the Emperor himself was. Your mother always made you follow her everywhere she went, as well as sharing her tastes and hobbies, since having only had princes prevented her from doing that. You had a close mother-daughter relationship, and with your father it was something more or less similar.
As you grow up, your parents become more overprotective of you, so much so that they even limit your contact with your older brothers, the princes. Not only would they give you nice gifts, but the best teachers, doctors and servants would be at your disposal (even better than those of your older brothers), although your brothers would probably be jealous of you.
They wouldn't let you walk alone for even a second.
If your father has a harem of consorts and concubines (like other emperors), then the empress will be more paranoid about you, since even though princesses do not inherit the throne, she knows that her enemies can harm you.
Once, when you were five years old, a maid broke a porcelain doll that your father had given you after returning from one of his trips. Unfortunately for that maid, the emperor was returning with you just when the doll broke, so he saw it and got SO angry that he asked his butler to take you out to the garden for a walk, so that you wouldn't see your father the emperor whip the poor maid to death. All this because he considered that maid to be reckless in daring to do that to your things, even if it had been an accident.
Even if more princesses were born, you were the object of your parents' overprotection and adoration.
Even your older brothers didn't dare to do anything bad to you. Once a new maid spoke ill of you (even though you hadn't done anything), and the empress herself slapped her in the face.
They hired servants who document your EVERY move.
The Emperor adores you so much that he will delay any kind of engagement or marriage alliance. He will reject any proposal, and silence anyone who mentions the subject. He does not want you away from him.
If it were up to them, you would stay locked in your room all the time so that nothing would hurt you, and they would tell you that they do everything for your own good.
You were punished by being locked up for an indefinite period of time, followed by the classic punishment of writing the same sentence repeatedly for a long time.
No trying to escape from the palace. The emperor would have experienced guards and servants around you to prevent that.
And if you do get married, then your parents will make sure that you have no choice but to live near the palace, no matter what.
They would be capable of killing if something happens to you.
If you fall ill, they will make sure you rest and eat well, even if it is against your will. If you were to die, they would both go mad with grief, especially the empress.
If you were to die, they would use your chambers as a sanctuary to you, where they would go to pray for you, and in the process force EVERYONE to mourn you.
Your emperor father would not let you have any contact with his family, as there is a power struggle going on where even his own brothers, cousins ​​and uncles could be his enemies and would do ANYTHING to get the throne; even if that includes kidnapping or killing you just because you are the emperor's daughter. Your mother would know this, and every time her brothers-in-law come, she will make you stay with her in the central palace.
With the Empress's family it's a different story, since there are no problems of inheritance of the throne, things are easier unless there is someone who tries to hurt you or pressure you like they do with your mother.
-The End.
What do you think?
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slttygeto · 1 year ago
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JJK MEN AS DADS — headcanons.
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥featuring: geto suguru, nanami kento and toji fushiguro.
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥note: enjoy this alternate universe where everyone is okay and safe and happy.
╰┈➤ interested in sending a commission?
╰┈➤ GOJO'S VERSION
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—GETO SUGURU ;
some of you might not agree with me on this but he probably never saw himself becoming a dad
sure he loves kids, they do annoy him when they’re loud and all over the place but he never thought that he would have kids
that is until you announced to him that you were pregnant, and his entire world changed
his daughter is pretty much everything to him but he doesn’t spoil her (gojo does)
he wants to teach her proper manners, the right way to communicate things and isn’t big on spoiling
and you both end up raising a sweetheart who’s in love with uncle satoru.
“baby, stay in my sights.” you heard suguru talk to your daughter as you both walked down the food aisle. she was well mannered, didn’t act up or tried to be bratty when told something (unless she was having a really bad day, which was very different).
watching your husband parent a child that looked like a mix of you both was a different kind of love. he was gentle, careful and most importantly trying to be there for her.
from taking her on daddy-daughter dates, to talking things out with her when she was mad at him or when she messed up, suguru proved himself worthy of becoming someone’s father.
“who knew someone else would come along, and you’d call them baby,” you teased the man with a small smile, letting him push the cart while you walked next to him. he shot you a playful glare before grabbing a can of tuna.
“don’t even start—i somehow got used to speaking in girl voice from being forced to attend her tea parties…” he sighs but you know it's far from a tired one. he looks at your daughter with so much love, so much adoration that your heart flutters.
you were incredibly lucky.
“tell me you love me in your girl voice, come on,”
"move."
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—NANAMI KENTO;
this man was made to be a father
despite how tired he looks he always makes time for you and your girl
very lovey dovey and is very proud of referring to you two as his girls
whenever he is asked to hang out, he goes 'lemme make sure my girls dont need anything'
hes quite literally the best
most patient, loving and understanding husband/father
ever since you gave birth, kento and your daughter had a routine. you two would feed her at 8p.m when he comes back from work, he would then take her to the bathroom where he would bathe her then read her a bed time story. he would then kiss her goodnight, keep the small moon shaped light turned on before closing the door.
it was endearing because he put it on so much effort when it came to her. you knew it was the bare minimum for a father, but you were still very grateful that you married a good husband and an even better father.
both kento and your daughter were now in the bathroom. bath time usually took about twenty minutes to half an hour, and it would be filled with giggles coming from your four year old and kento's occasional chuckles. but it was oddly quiet, so you decided to go check on them.
when you opened the door, your heart melted at the sight. your daughter had fallen asleep in the bathtub, and so your husband was trying his best to get her out and dry her up before she caught a cold.
and he was doing it so quietly that you couldn't help but ask if he needed any help.
"baby, do you need help?" you whispered to the man holding the sleeping girl, lightly kissing his nape and squeezing his shoulders.
"I got this." he whispered in response, turning around and pressing a light kiss on your lips and forehead.
you watched with heart eyes as he gently woke her up to dry her hair, kissed her forehead and continued on with their routine, before it was time to say goodnight.
nanami kento was an angel sent from above.
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—FUSHIGURO TOJI;
this man isn't new to parenting, in fact you knew you weren't his first wife
but you were accepting of it, helped giving the grieving man a second chance at life as he liked to say
you met megumi when he was still so young and the little boy loving you was enough reason for toji to confirm that you were indeed the right one
loving a child that wasn't yours wasn't given to everyone, toji was well aware of that
and as you watched the man parent megumi, you were a bit hesitant to announce to him your pregnancy
when you did tho, he sobbed like a baby
and twins? a boy and a girl? oh he was in for a ride
"you little rascals better let me love on my wife in peace." your husband whispered to the two sleeping babies in their cribs. it was 9p.m and they were fortunately fast asleep.
you on the other hand, were busy with your oldest.
finally after getting them in bed, you were with megumi in the kitchen asking him what you should pack for his lunch tomorrow, which the ten year old responded with what he typically always chose.
megumi wasn't a difficult child, but with the arrival of the twins, you were a bit worried that he would think you and toji no longer cared for him. dealing with twins wasn't easy, but you were aware and willingly brought two lives to his family, and were fully responsible for it.
when toji was with the twins, you would help out megumi with his homework. and when it was time to breastfeed the babies, toji would take megumi to basketball practice or engage in a random activity together.
"a juice box?" you asked while packing his lunch, which the little boy nodded at before staring at who was coming down the stairs.
"you got school tomorrow at 8?" toji asked megumi, and the little boy responded with a nod. not much of a talker.
"are they asleep?" megumi quietly asked his dad, who raised an eyebrow at him before saying 'yes' and you watched as your son fiddled with his fingers, anxious of what to say next.
"gumi, do you wanna see them?" you stepped in, a hand resting on his back. the little boy looked up at you with sparkly eyes, grateful that you understood him.
"go, and if they do wake up call me." you kissed his forehead and watched as he carefully tiptoed upstairs.
toji's eyes stayed glued on you during the entire interaction, and finally let his arms wrap around your waist once your son was upstairs before resting his forehead on your shoulder.
"thank you," he whispered out, pressing his lips to the side of your neck.
"for what?" you chuckled, caressing the taller man's back.
"for making everything feel like it's worth it."
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hereforthehitsbaby · 18 days ago
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Behave | Eddie Munson x F!Reader
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Synopsis: Eddie always told you to behave on game nights - but tonight you were feeling extra bratty.
Warning: Slight Smut, Finger Sucking, Mimicking Blow Job, Spanking, Dom!Eddie, Public Displays of Lewdness, Fingering Mentioned, Language, Drug Use, "Daddy," Choking,
Rating: E - NO MINORS!
Word Count: 3.6K
Best Friend; A person's closest friend. Someone who will be there for you no matter what, someone who you can trust with your deepest and darkest secrets. Best thing about having someone be that close, you could be comfortable with one another and know you will never be judged. That was the best part about it all, knowing you can openly be yourself without the feeling of dread or fear. Everyone needs someone like that in their life, whether they would like to admit it or not. It's the truth at the end of the day. Everyone could use a best friend who will be there through thick and thin, who will pump them up whenever they are feeling low. It isn't to make others jealous, but to help with your own brand of faults and doubts. Sometimes having someone who will openly reassure you is better than just being silent - instead of letting you wallow in your own despair. For you, he was the chosen one. He was the one to take those doubts away, and flourish you into the world of beauty. Though really, he loved when you were more; Teasing, taunting, overall sexy.
Being a tease was in your nature, whether you wanted to believe it or not. Something about riling up your friends was funny. Maybe it was seeing what flustered them, and what made them tick. After all, it was all in good fun - your friends didn't seem to mind. I mean, how could they when you're gorgeous? Especially when Eddie Munson was the bestest of your friends. He really enjoyed when you teased him, openly flirted with him, and even when you would climb into his lap like it was nothing. Though you both were heavily adamant, you were just friends. No ifs, ands, or buts about it. It was a safety precaution after all, in case if things didn't work out the integrity of your friendship would not be ruined. To the naked eye of your friend group, the two of you were platonic with a capital P, whilst in private you could've sworn you were lovers. Just the way he handled your body, making you bend to his will - how you'd give yourself up to him, he was damned if he fell in love. It was normal for you two to experiment with one another - to find what you like and how it should be done. All the best adventures, came from Eddie.
That 5"11' brown eyed beauty would be the death of you at some point, truly a gracious man who would take care of you at the drop of a hat. Eddie Munson was your person, your forever in such a brutal world. When he had slid into your life at fourteen years old, you were a goner. That was around the same time he had grown his mullet out a bit so it was more of a hair metal variety. Bright brown eyes were like a puppy's, constantly begging and pleading to be loved. That is all Eddie truly wanted at the end of the day - to feel the love neither of his parents had given him. Growing up with his uncle, it was rare to show any sign of affection - making him feel almost robotic at times. But, when you were caught on the swings smoking a joint in front of a bunch of kids - he knew you could love him like he needed. He offered you a light to reignite your end of the joint, suckling the smoke deeply as it swirled within your lungs. Simply you passed it off to him; That entire day you spent running through the fountains near Hawkins downtown, causing chaos every moment you could. He was in love with you from the start, it was obvious.
"Sweetheart, I need you to behave tonight. We are at the halfway point in the campaign. No distractions, okay?" Eddie pleaded as he drove down the rickety dirt road near Hawkins High. Thursday nights were dedicated to Hellfire - the D&D club Eddie has ran since Freshman year. When you became the new soul to Hawkins, Eddie was the first to bring you into the sacred circle - loving how easily you fit in with the others and how great of a rogue dark elf you are. It made his heart beam that the girl of his dreams, also loved the same music, books and games. But, Eddie wouldn't admit that he fucking loved when you were being a tease, purposely turning him on during the most inconvenienced of times. There was something about being bent to your will he could not get enough of, especially when he was heavily rooted in the campaign. It wasn't outlandish for all of the guys to see - but enough for Eddie to silently berate you. The other guys were oblivious, which was cute.
You turned to Eddie's side in the van, crossing your arms over your chest and pouting with an audible hmph, knowing that cannot be arranged. A chuckle slipped from Eddie's lips as he heard you sweet little sound, your pout the cutest thing he had ever seen. He was a weakened man for you, that was a no brainer. "I cannot make any guarantees, Eddie the Banished." You knew Eddie was a slut for you calling him by his Dungeon Master name - which you found sexy. Just seeing how his hands gripped the steering wheel a bit harder to make the leather crunch beneath his fingers, was enough ammunition you needed to keep going. With Eddie's eyes becoming hooded in lust, he strained his fingers against the wheel. "Fuck, you love I love it when you call me that, sweetheart." Indeed you did, hence why this was going to be an absolutely torturous night for sweet Eddie Munson - not when the love of his life was bound to kill him with teasing. "If you're going to tease me, at least get it out before the game." Eddie pleaded with you, turning his head to face yours as the light remained red, gulping his worries down.
"Aw, Eddie? Are you okay, baby boy?" You pouted playfully, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth. You could hear the strain of the steering wheel beneath your fingers, causing his body to convulse in the slightest. His knee was bouncing up and down whilst waiting for the light, trying so hard to contain his raging hard on in his jeans, trying so hard to not fuck you in the back of his van in the school parking lot. You made Edie crazy, but he fucking craved it. Eddie slammed to 60 when the light turned green, speeding down the last set of dirt roads by the high school while you waited to tease him. Eddie wouldn't give you the chance to do so though, for as soon as he pulled into the parking lot, he left you in the van. No keys, no words, just grabbed his lunch box and that was it. In a way you silently wondered if you took this too far with him, if you made him angry by teasing. Your heart began to race with the possible realization that Eddie was mad at you, causing a sliver of doubt to shine within your bones. But alas, like everything else in life, you pushed it down and never thought of it again.
Slowly you crept the passengers side door open to be met with the cool early summer breeze against your freshly shaved legs; High waisted leather skirt caused the breeze to slide underneath. Adorning your torso was your very own Hellfire Club shirt, tucked into the band of your bottoms. With the blackened boots and studs on your feet, you hopped out of the van with a clank of the heels - sighing out softly. Truly you were worried that you may have pissed Eddie off, which would make the game that much more awkward. But as soon as you were about to be wrapped up in your worries, you heard the infamous giggle of one Dustin Henderson rolling through your ears, shoving your door closed with a smile. "Hello, Lady Thesa! Are you ready to completely annihilate the cult of Vecna?" Dustin smiled sweetly, tagging Mike and Lucas along with him. Smiling widely as you rolled your eyes, you bowed to the boys with a short curtsey, trying not to laugh. "Of course I am, ready to kick that slimeballs ass once and for all!" You exclaimed proudly, causing the three to scream in agreement.
The four of you made your way to the double doors of the school, the only set that would be opened tonight. It was cute hearing how excited the guys were to get to the halfway point - needing to level up and get their steel armor finally. If there was anyway you all would beat Vecna, it was with the best of the best armor. The halls of Hawkins high were bare from the world; Cold, almost decayed with the scent of death - and gym socks. It was weird always being back at the school late at night with nothing else around, no one else around for that matter. Principal Higgins, as much as he was a douchebag, gave Eddie a key to the school for these reasons - though he barely trusted Munson. It was funny, you and Eddie being the oldest of the groups - just due to the fact that he stayed back three times and you, well you had the unfortunate luck of your transcripts getting lost in the mail, meaning you had to repeat freshman year twice. Maybe its because Eddie officially ran Hellfire Club but, you always had a spare.
The chatter coming from the science classroom made your stomach drop, hearing Eddie's loud voice booming through the hiss of the lights overhead. Dustin, Lucas and Mike ran into the class before you did, screaming along with Eddie, Jeff and Gareth. Meanwhile you, you trailed into the class lastly, chewing on the inside of your cheek as you wandered over to Eddie's side. Plopping down next to Gareth, Eddie noticed where was a twinkle of something in your eyes - something that made you not want to look at him. Is she mad I walked away from her earlier? Eddie's mind pondered so many different possibilities and fears, wondering if he was too harsh in what he did. But really, this was just one giant fucking game. "Hey Gareth, could you please be a darling and pass me by dice?" You smiled sweetly at the flannel wearing guy, batting your lashes softly. His face instantly reddened at your flattery, fingers trembling as they grabbed your purple satchel from the pile. Sending him a wink as a thank you, you hummed softly as poured them out beside your character sheet. "You look really pretty today," the soft tone of Gareth's words made your heart soar, the heat creeping upon your cheeks.
You nudged Gareth's shoulder with your own, smiling sincerely at his compliment, not knowing exactly how to function after it. "Thank you, that's really sweet of you to say!" You made sure the sentence was loud enough for Eddie to hear. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see Eddie's mouth screwed up into a solid line, his fingers gripping the ballpoint pen as if he was trying to kill it. His leg shook the entire table, making some of the pieces turn over accidentally. "Jesus Eddie, did you forget to pop your quaaludes before the meeting?" Jeff snorted, causing Eddie to slam his hands down on the table, everyone shutting up so quickly. Eddie's beady eyes bored into everyone's, mainly yours with fury. You had never seen Eddie so pissed off before, or just mad in general. Usually if the guys joked around like this then Eddie was all giggles too. But tonight, something was different - something was off. "Listen here you little shits, I am not in the mood to fuck around. Get your shit together, or get the fuck out!" Eddie snapped, surprised with the tone of his own voice. He jumped back slightly at his own harsh remark, wincing towards the group. "I'm sorry - just...a lot going on."
Everyone was understanding, nodding and keeping their lips sealed until Eddie began the campaign. You barely needed to do anything here tonight, Eddie was already frustrated because of you. In a way you felt bad for working him up, but on the same length you were only just getting started. As Eddie began to recite where you all had left off, you leaned into your fanny pack to grab out a lollipop, unwrapping the blow pop - cherry - your favorite. As you popped the candy into your mouth, you wrote down your updated stats on your character sheets, not giving a second glance to the DM. "Lady Thesa, you see a Rust Monster coming your way out of the darkened woods. It's body insect like, the color of rust with antenna's that can easily wrap around you. Do you fight, or do you flee?" Eddie recited to you, cocking his brow as you swirled the lolly against your tongue. Popping it freshly out, dripping with your saliva, you nod to him with a smirk; "I'll fight that fucker." Eddie's eyes were dazzling over the lollipop, breath hitching as you traced your tongue on the underside of the protruding top, wrapping your perfect lips around it.
You grabbed two D7 dice from your pile in front, the purple and black glittering in the overhead lights. Shaking them in your hand was phallic in itself; You were mimicking a hand job directly at Eddie. As the two dice fell down to the board, you noticed how you hit the rust monster with an attack of fourteen, meaning you wounded him enough to take fourteen damage. Everyone around you cheered and Gareth clapped your back, rubbing smooth circles over your shirt. A flush rose to Gareth's cheek as you rested your hand on his lower thigh, gently rubbing his jeans as you giggled. Eddie hated that someone other than him was making you giggle, making your smile so hard your cheeks hurt, fuck even making you shiver with delight. That is something Eddie always did - to see that he was almost being replaced hurt a lot. But he could not let you get away with this. Clutching the dice of the rust monster in his hand, Eddie threw the D20 down with haste, seeing how it landed only on five - meaning you got to do another hit of damage. The way Eddie perched himself in the chair, his back against the wood and his legs spread wide, made you shiver with lust. The way his sinful hands grasped at the arms of the chair, as if he would rip them off at any given moment.
"Kick his ass Lady Thesa, stun them with your beauty." Gareth was on a roll tonight with the compliments. You wondered if it was because Eddie wasn't being obsessive about you, wondering if he was doing it to get a rise out of Munson. Either way, it was sweet of shy Gareth to speak up finally, looking at you like you were a prize. When Gareth leaned forward to whisper in your ear, that was enough to made Eddie snap. "Time out!" His voice boomed over the chatter of everyone, causing the room to stand still. Before anyone could ask Eddie if he was okay, the brute stormed out of the classroom, slamming the door behind. His jackets were laid across his bag on the floor, you wondered if he had a smoke to calm his nerves. Sighing out loud, you slowly pushed out of your chair, rubbing your forehead before heading towards the door. "What's gotten into him?" Mike asked with confusion, causing you to shrug. "I don't know but we will be back, I am going to see what's up."
This was very out of character for your Eddie, and you wanted to do what you could to give him peace in the process. As you left the classroom, you looked up and down both halls - not seeing a lick of Eddie anywhere. Groaning to yourself, you quickly sped down the right side of the hall, heading towards where the gym and locker rooms would be. There were only about four classrooms - all senior level art, psychology, history and culinary. He could be hiding out in one of those, you pondered, but just which one? You reached for the first class which happened to be the art room. Elongated black tables lined each row - showcasing off eight of them with four chairs at each. It was weird to see one of your classes in the darkened night, fluorescent lightbulbs not burning your eyes. "Eddie?" You called out with a hum, chewing on the inside of your cheek as you sighed out. You were nervous he was mad at you, or worse yet - he wanted you to leave. "Eddie I'm-" you began, but were cut off with two strong hands pinning your shoulders back against the air. The slice of tension covered your body like a wet blanket, unable to move under the force. His left hand slid from your shoulder to your neck, pushing down on your pulse point like it was nothing.
"You must think you're real fucking cute, don't you?" Eddie hissed as he tightened his grip, his right hand coming to pin your hip to the board behind you. Easily you could feel your eyes growing darker as they dilated. Eddie was possessive sure, but he never used this sort of force outside of the bedroom. In all honesty, it was hot to you, knowing how much you loved to be choked. Giving Eddie your best impression of doe eyes, you slowly let your smile creep forth, showcasing your reddened lips and tongue from the lollipop earlier, you had discarded when you were rolling. "Mhm, of course I do, Munson." You challenged him back, looking him up and down for two seconds. He was lost in your words, how you played feigned innocence so well. This time around it wasn't going to work on him, no, he was already deep into his mind of fury. Still holding your throat in his hand, Eddie marched you backwards to the emptied desk of the art teacher Mrs. Callough, watching how your bared thighs trembled. Eddie paced himself out by removing one of his hands from your body, using it to push your tight leather skirt over the swell of your ass, showing how you had forgone your panties for the evening, letting your naked core be only a few inches away from exposure.
"Naughty, naughty girl - you fucking menace." Eddie growled from behind, laying a harsh crack against your right ass cheek. The sensation made you jolt forward, stifling a waning moan. Before you could speak out against Eddie's spank, he laid another one flush to the other cheek, feeling the skin heat under his touch. It was like rapid fire at that rate, he kept laying harsh smacks against your ass almost to learn your lesson, but instead it caused you to go dumb. Your mouth hung open, collecting your own saliva as broken moans slipped out. Your cunt clenched around nothing, hoping to god he would shove his fingers or cock within you. Each spank got rougher than the last, his fingertips digging into the rounded, pillowy flesh like it was nothing - almost to show you who you belonged to. After fifteen, you had lost count, the pain mixed with the pleasure, you couldn't control yourself from wanting your best friend. "D-D-Daddy," you let out, tearing welling in the corner of your eyes. "Have you learned your lesson yet, princess?" Ah, so this was a punishment, you thought, feeling your heart swell.
Rapid nods fell from your head as Eddie placed a soothing palm over your now heated ass, letting the cool tips of his rings cool your backside. "Y-Yes, I am s-sorry." You muttered, letting Eddie help you stand up to straighten your tight skirt. Eddie cupped your cheek softly, running the pad of his thumb over your bottom lip, watching how it puffed out just for him. "It's okay, sweetheart. I forgive you. If you can be a good girl, I'll let you come on my fingers under the table while we play - okay?" Eddie smiled softly, peppering kisses to your forehead, cheeks, nose and chin, watching how your heart raced with affection. Eddie did take amazing care of you, even when you were being a brat. That was what you loved most about him, and his darkened side. "I love you, Eddie." You let out louder than normal, causing his plush lips to turn up into a loving smile, leaning forth to kiss you so tenderly. "I love you, my darling."
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0-therw-0-rldly · 3 months ago
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I’ll preface this by saying I’m not really a shipper. I just enjoy canon couples on TV Series/films.
Terms I’d like B*ddies to remove from their vocabulary because they don’t know how to use them correctly:
Media literacy: For a group that uses this term a lot you sure do misinterpret everything in this show.
Queerbaiting: Going to expand on this one. A show that’s already been pre established for having queer characters simply cannot queerbait.
Ship baiting: While sometimes you can argue that they could be doing that, that’s only if you look at the show in a very biased manner. You might think this is the case but the general audience doesn’t think the way you do.
Ship war: This isn’t a one tree hill situation where there was Team Brooke Vs. Team Peyton where the middle guy (Lucas Scott) had canonically been with both women. This is people not understanding fanon vs. canon and not being able to just watch the show. It’s like playing quarterback on Madden and thinking you could be better than Patrick Mahomes.
Plot device: everything’s a plot device. Move tf on.
Predator: You sound like crazy MAGA supporters calling everything regarding the LGBTQIA+ community as predatory. Sit down.
Co-parenting: I know this is a big one and discourse was brought up during the hiatus. Oliver and Ryan have loosely mentioned this years ago but it was never to be taken this seriously. Do y’all even know what co-parenting is or are you that big of a donut? Buck is someone who loves his best friend deeply and by extension, his kid too. Him taking care of him frequently does not make him a co-parent. Maybe he is a parental or uncle figure, but he isn’t a co-parent. Also, I swear y’all need to learn how a will works. He is a GODPARENT, not a GUARDIAN. Stfu.
Hag: This especially applies to women, but to say that someone 25-30+ is a hag for still being in fandoms or enjoying tv shows/films is inherently misogynistic. Men are never held to this much criticism for enjoying fictional media, but women aren’t allowed to?
Queer Coding: people of the same sex “looking at each other”, hugging, or having intimate moments all together doesn’t make them queer coded. It could mean that they just love each other that deeply platonically. While representation is amazing and just because you interpret a character as queer coded (just like my ship baiting comment) doesn’t mean others interpret it that way as well. In addition, network TV has stipulations, and also actors are allowed to decline storylines. Ryan has mentioned his character is heterosexual an abundance of times which means (at least for now) that he isn’t willing to go for this storyline.
Dead naming: Y’all construing the fact that Buck wants people like coworkers and some of his former love interests, to saying Evan is his dead name is inherently transphobic because do you even understand what a dead name is? Evan Buckley is shown as being fine with being called Evan by both Tommy and his sister. I’m pretty sure some of his love interests have called him Evan as well.
Fetishizing: You guys saw two hot guys who “looked at each other” and for 6 seasons have wanted nothing but to see those two make out with each other. Those of us who enjoy Tevan saw Buck giddy at the thought of Tommy and have wanted domestic fluff for them since.
Anything to do with racism, homophobia, and misogyny: I’ve seen the way you guys have conveniently weaponized Henren and by extension Aisha/Tracie when you didn’t get the Ryan/Oliver interview, don’t try to act like you’re morally superior. Not to mention wanting a canonically gay man to die in a show and not even holding those who use your ship name to write CSA fics accountable because you’re petty and want to throw hissy fits. Anyone looking at your comments as an outsider would think you’re homophobes and yes queer people can be homophobic.
I do hope you can expand your vocabulary. 🤍
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luveline · 2 months ago
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anything with roan and eddie pls 🙏🙏 whatever you want to write about them!! i miss them 🥺🥺
thanks for requesting!! fem
Baking tray, beef cuts laid out flat. Eddie works in silence, dressing the beef with garlic honey, sesame seeds, and a big pinch of salt. He’d like to add some ginger, some paprika, but Roan doesn’t like when things taste smoky. 
He saran wraps the tray and puts it in the fridge. He makes everyone’s veggies —you like different stuff to Eddie, who likes different stuff to Roan, so he makes a garden’s worth of greens and douses them in olive oil, flaky salt, and a little dash of lemon and pepper. He puts that atop the beef in the fridge and tries to think of a side. He was planning on making pasta tonight, before he realised the beef was gonna go bad soon. Maybe he’ll make a pan of crispy mac and cheese to go with it. 
Yeah. He smiles to himself. That looks good on his head, two roasted ribs, a fist of mac and cheese, and a half a plate of roasted veggies. 
He cuts a little cilantro ‘cos Roan loves it, adds some lemon juice to that too, and sets it aside in the fridge. He makes a quick mac and cheese on the stove and tips it into a baking tray, covers a third of it in bacon bits for the youngster, and puts that in the oven. 
Then he sits at the table and sighs. Scratches two hands through his hair, lets the tight achy small of his back decompress as he leans forward. 
When Eddie started working at the shop with Wayne, he figured it would get easier over time. Part time table-bussing wasn’t going to pay for a trailer or his brand new baby, and for months it’s not like he could work anyhow. He lived solely off of his Uncle Wayne as he learned to change diapers, and calm colic, and be a new dad. It was depressing and frustrating all of the time. He felt like shit because he’d just fucking landed Wayne with another mouth to feed and diapers were so, so expensive, and so was formula, and baby clothes, and the guilt worsened when he realised he loved her. Loved Roan. He loved her pretty much the moment he laid eyes on her, but he had no idea if he could be a father, just knew he couldn’t let his kid fall into the system. 
But loving her had been second to panic for weeks. Then one day he was washing her tummy in the bath and he swore blind that she smiled at him, whether babies her age could smile or not. He tumbled out of the bathroom with her in a towel poncho to brag, and that night at dinner, Wayne gave a frowny Eddie the option: start working alternate shifts at the shop. Wayne would have her in the evenings while Eddie worked, they’d sorted everything out, he could start next week. It wasn’t half as scary as being a new dad, so Eddie said yes. 
Anyways, he expected it to get easier. He knows more about parenting and cars than he ever imagined at twenty, but it’s still hard. He’s exhausted. 
Good thing he knows exactly why he does it. 
The door to the living room opens with a creak. Small feet pad around the stair bannister and down the hallway that leads to the kitchen. Roan stops walking when she notices him behind the table. She smiles. She looks like him, less as she gets older, but enough to have given an appreciation for his own features. What’s more beautiful than seeing your smile on someone else’s lips?
“Hey, daddy.” 
“Hi, munchkin.” 
Truthfully, Roan has been his best friend for years. There’s something intangibly close about a single parent and their only child, especially when they’d lived alone. Day after day together, seeing all the gross bits and all the love. It’s given her a vast depth of emotional intelligence. She’s smarter now as a kid than Eddie was at 18. 
“You okay?” she asks, holding her hands up. He picks her up, plonking her on the table in front of him. “You look tired, daddy. And you smell like pepper.” 
“I just finished making ribs, babe.” 
“Yum!” Her nose moves when she talks, “For dinner?” 
“Mm-hm.” He finds her hand. Holds it gently. “Mac and cheese and roasted broccoli, too.” 
Roan smiles again. “Dad, you’re a good chef.” 
“I know I am! But it took so much practice. When you were born, you know what I was eating for dinner every night? I was eating chicken pot pie you put in the microwave.” She wrinkles her nose. “I know. I didn’t care about being good to my body. I definitely didn’t listen to my tummy.”
He likes this part about being a dad. He’s never found it awkward. He just drops his voice into softness and talks to her on her level. 
“But you learned.” 
“I did learn. I wanted to make sure you were eating everything you need. That’s why we eat all that broccoli.” 
She pokes him in the torso with her socked foot. “Maybe less broccoli for my tummy.” 
“I got potatoes and stuff too, don’t worry.” Eddie reaches for her hair in its after school mess, raking it away from her face. “You know I love you, right?” 
“Well, duh.” 
“I know, but really. I love you more than anything.” 
“More than Y/N?” 
“No,” he says quickly, then laughs. “Yeah, but just a little bit. It’s a different kind of love, okay? I love you both like crazy, but you’re my baby. Even though you’re not a baby anymore.” 
“I could be a baby,” she whispers, grinning, “I can be small again, and you can carry me everywhere, and give me a bottle.” 
He laughs roughly. “Yeah? You want a bottle? You barely like milk.” 
“Well, you can still carry me.” 
“I do carry you. I’m surprised these feet work,” he says, squeezing her toes in both hands. 
“Dad, don’t!”
“Sorry, sorry,” he presses his thumb between her foot and her toes and then drops them altogether. “I remember when your foot was the size of my thumb.” 
“I don’t.” 
He laughs more loudly than he means to and scoops her up for a rough and tumble hug. “God, I love you. I really do, bubby.” He presses his nose to her head and blames how tired he is for what he says next. “You are everything to me, you know that? You’re my everything.” 
“You’re my everything.” 
He tips her back to see her. Beams at her, touches his nose to hers. “You and Y/N, you make my life perfect.” 
“I’m glad,” she says, which has him laughing all over again, a childish giggle. 
When you get home a half hour later, you find them in weird places. Eddie’s sitting on the kitchen floor watching the ribs cook in the oven, and Roan’s under the table building a marble run with his approval. “Here?” she asks. 
“And the orange piece. We need more pieces, it’s not long enough.” Eddie smiles at you as you enter, but leans back, opening the cupboard under the sink to grab a saucepan, the sieve, and plastic jug. “We can use these.” 
“What’s up, my Munsons?” you ask. 
Roan smacks her forehead against the edge of the table in her excitement. “Ouch!” she says, crawling from under it to crowd your legs. 
“Ouch!” you echo, face morphed with concern as your handbag slides down your arm. You drop it to the floor and take her cheeks into your hands. “Did that hurt? I’m sorry, I feel like that was all my fault.” 
She shakes her head, curls bouncing this way and that. “It was an accident.” 
“I know, I know, but I didn’t mean to startle you.” You brush her hair back gently and hover. “Can I kiss it better?” 
“Don’t kiss it, it stings!” Roan says, veering away from you with a frown. 
“Sorry!” 
Roan twists away from you to fall into Eddie’s lap. 
“Sorry,” Eddie mouths. 
You pout. It’s with extreme beautifulness —is that a word? Eddie’s pretty sure it’s a word— you slip out of your little heels and sit down on your knees, stockings dark and perfect on legs he adores. You don’t question why they’re on the floor. That’s how you all fit, his smart working girl and your shared grumpy daughter, because nobody asked Eddie why he sat down by the oven. 
“Sorry, baby,” you say softly.
Roan’s frown worsens, but she says, “No, I’m sorry. My head hurts. I missed you.”
“I missed you too, big girl.” 
“Big girl?” she asks. 
“You sounded very grown up, is all.” 
Eddie has to agree. “You’re just that smart.” 
You hold his ankle. “So, how was work? How was school? Fill me in.” 
“How was your day?” Eddie asks. 
“Super usual and boring. We had some people from the Brussels branch come to visit and Jess kept telling me to stop being so awkward, and I asked her what she meant and she said I was smiling like somebody was holding me hostage.” 
Eddie loves when you smile like that. When you’d first met, you used to smile that way all the time. He loves all your smiles, obviously, but your excited–scared combo isn’t one he sees much anymore. 
You shrug. “But work paid for lunch, and I had this amazing mango passionfruit cake roll, I snook you some.” 
“You did?” Roan asks eagerly.
“I did! It’s in my purse, but it has a price.” 
“What’s the price?” Roan asks. 
You put your head in your hand. “I wanna know what you guys have been up to today.” 
When Eddie plates dinner that evening, it’s with a distinct sense of pride and content mashed together. It’s a damn good-looking meal, dense with nutrition and flavour alike, and you and Roan both seem similarly awed. Eddie wanted ribs and he got them, but almost as pleasurable as eating them is the way you both tuck in. You compliment his roasted veggies, telling him you could eat them for every meal, and Roan’s face is plastered in sticky honey garlic in minutes, a macaroni elbow in her hair. 
“Know what dad told me earlier?” she asks you. 
You snort and rescue her hair. “What did he tell you, baby?” 
“That we make his life perfect.” 
Eddie chokes on his coke. “That was a secret,” he says, throat burning, “between you and me?” 
“You didn’t tell me that,” Roan says.  
“Don’t be embarrassed, Eds.” Your eyes turn to hearts, staring at him over the steaming tray of macaroni and cheese. “You guys make my life perfect, too. My babe and my personal chef.” 
He dodges your cheek pinch, grabbing your hand to hold instead. 
“Just wish somebody would make me dinner every once in a while,” he says.
“Whatever,” you say. 
“Dad, I can make you dinner.” 
“I don’t trust you ‘round the kitchen.” 
Roan guides a forkful of cheesy macaroni to her lips. “Okay, good. I can’t make pasta like you,” she says. Eddie won’t mind making dinner again tomorrow. 
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