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#but they know their parents and uncle would want them to make the best of things
hadesoftheladies · 5 months
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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 · 20 days
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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 · 1 year
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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 · 2 months
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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 · 27 days
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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bpmiranda · 7 days
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Uncle Logan III |l. howlett| nsfw
A/N: pure, filthy smut, age gap, 18+ f!reader, uncle!logan x faux!niece, cheating, oral m!receiving, loss of virginity, cockwarming, rough sex, unprotected sex, creampie
Uncle Logan Uncle Logan II
It went without saying that you quickly figured out how to stay on Logan’s good side. You weren’t incapable of doing house chores, you simply required the right motivation and once Logan figured out what motivated you, you became docile and obedient - just what your parents had wanted from you. “I made breakfast!” You announce as he walks into the kitchen with a smile, eyeing your pajama shorts and the loose crop top that gives away the hardness of your nipples. “Want some coffee?” You offer, already filling up a mug.
“I appreciate it, sweet girl.” Logan says while tying his tie as you sit down with your own coffee. “You’re not going to eat?” He asks curiously as he sits beside you and you shake your head.
“I’m going to this job fair the community college is hosting, I figured I’d get something to eat afterwards.” You say, watching him sip his coffee, his eyes on you the whole time.
“That’s great, Y/N. I’ll be sure to let your parents know you’re taking concrete steps towards a career.” He says as he begins eating.
You rest your chin on your palm as you watch him and you shrug lightly. “You don’t have to tell them.” He gives you a curious look. “I was just thinking maybe I can stay the rest of the summer here. I mean, you need the help around the apartment and I’m-well-enjoying spending the time with you.” Your free hand slowly inched towards his arm and you caress his hand with your thumb as you look at him with wide eyes, biting your lip.
“Sweetheart, I can’t.” He says, again, and you pout. “We’ve talked about it. It’s not right.”
“Logan, don’t make me misbehave.” You sigh, moving your hand onto his knee underneath the table as you lean closer to him. “You said good girls get rewarded, right?” He reluctantly nods because he did say that, but he shouldn’t have. “And haven’t I been good these last few weeks?”
Logan stalls by taking another sip of coffee and he shakes his head. “You have been, you’ve been great, and there’s a lot of improvement in your attitude. I just-look, we got carried away in the beginning. I think you’re a gorgeous girl, but I’m too old for you. Your dad’s my best friend, I mean, you’re basically my niece. How would that look?”
“Let’s find out.” You smirk, your hand sliding up his thigh teasingly and he chuckles as he grabs your hand and places it on the table making you groan in annoyance.
“Don’t let that attitude come back now.” He says in that warning tone that you’ve come to enjoy.
You fight the urge to roll your eyes and you nod, looking down into your mug sadly and you can’t help but pout at him again. “Can I have a kiss before you leave?” You ask as he’s getting up and pulling on his black dress coat.
Logan hesitates, but that’s how he has been keeping you at bay with your advances. Kissing you, letting you sit in his lap at night before bed so you can make out. He enjoys it too, but even that can’t go on very long before you’re trying to undo his pants. You’ve become insatiable, and he knows it’s his fault. “One kiss, and I have to go.” He says, leaning down with the intention of simply pecking your lips, but he finds himself sinking into you as you kiss him back. Logan kneels in front of you as you wrap your arms around his neck, tangling your fingers in his hair as he holds your waist. Your knees open to pull yourself closer to him by his jacket, your tongue’s swiping his bottom lip softly, pleading for an entrance that he gives you all too willingly.
“Mm, Logan.” You moan against his mouth, biting softly at his bottom lip and he groans, forcing himself to pull away.
“I’ve gotta go.” He sighs, standing up and you nod, wiping your bottom lip teasingly as he fixes his hair and his jacket. “Be good, okay?”
“Always am.” You smile sweetly and he shakes his head, scoffing lightly as he leaves.
While Logan chauffeured people around town, you got ready for the job fair. As you were getting dressed in a pair of black leggings and a striped drop shoulder sweater, you caught a glimpse of the framed picture of you and Adam. It was still sitting on your vanity and as you looked at it, you felt…nothing. “Hm,” You hummed softly as you set it face down and applied a light layer of tinted lip balm before leaving the apartment.
You weren’t sure when you stopped feeling something for your boyfriend, but you knew it had everything to do with Logan. You knew it should sicken you, maybe worry you, that you felt this way. Logan was the man that taught you how blow bubbles with chewing gum, he took you the zoo for the first time at 10 years old, he was even there at your high school graduation. Every time you thought about him as your uncle, however, a small voice never failed to remind you that he wasn’t really your uncle. And that’s the voice you have been listening to lately. Logan made you feel different, he made you want to be a better version of yourself, for him.
When Logan came home that night, you were dusting and you looked at him with a smile that fell the moment you saw him rubbing his neck in that telling manner that you came to recognize. “You okay, Uncle Logan?” You ask, setting down the dust wand and walking over to him with concern. He just gives you a small, forced smile. “You don’t look okay.”
“I’m fine, sweetheart.” He sighs as he sits at the kitchen table and you sit in the chair beside him. Logan is looking over your chore list and he nods approvingly at everything that’s crossed off. “Thank you for completing this.” He says, patting it back down the table and letting his head hang backwards in exhaustion. You want to help, you want to be useful to him. Tentatively, you sink down to your knees in front of him and lightly rest your hands on his knees. Logan jumps slightly from the feeling and he looks down at you with furrowed brows. “What’re you doing?”
“You know what I’m doing.” You say, sliding your hands along his thighs to his belt and he stops you, grabbing firmly onto your wrists as he stands up.
“No.” He says as he leaves you feeling embarrassed on the kitchen floor while he takes a shower. He’s too tired to have the same conversation with you, too tired to keep fighting his urges as they’re becoming much too strong and he’s not as resilient as he was once upon a time.
Truthfully, Logan can’t bring himself to cross that line. He wouldn’t be able to come back from it if he did. Your dad’s his closest friend, he couldn’t do that to him. It doesn’t help that you’re throwing yourself as him every chance you get, it doesn’t help how pretty you are, or how much he enjoys being the man that sullies you. She’s not really your niece, he thinks to himself as he’s shutting off the water and he sighs, shaking his head. No, I can’t.
When he comes back out into the living area, you’re sitting on the couch with a book. Logan notices you’re sitting in just your sweater, and his jaw tightens. She is old enough to make her own decisions, he thinks as he sits down beside you and wraps an arm around your shoulders. “I’m sorry, sweet girl.” He whispers against your hair, kissing your temple softly. “I shouldn’t have been mean, I was just tired.” He explains and you look over at him with a small smile as you close your book and set it aside on the end table.
“Thank you.” You murmur, leaning into his side and kissing him. Logan hums softly against your lips, his hand slides down your back and he holds onto you while you rest a hand on his abdomen. This is fine, he thinks, just kiss her, make her feel good. Your warm body snuggles up against his as you’re making out, your delicate hand roaming his wide torso as he holds you close to him. “You still tired?” You ask suddenly as you move onto his lap to straddle him. Logan shakes his head slowly, watching you like a hawk as you caress his chest over his white tank top. You press a soft kiss to his lips before you sink down between his knees again, and this time he doesn’t stop you. You undo the drawstring of his sweatpants as you moisten your lips and he has to resist the urge to grab you by the hair and shove his cock into your mouth.
“You know what you’re doing, sweetheart?” He asks and your cheeks warm up as you nod. You know it’s a loaded question, he doesn’t mean if you know how to give a blowjob, he’s asking if you know what you’re getting into by crossing this boundary with him, and you do. You know all too well. “That boyfriend’s a lucky bastard.” He smirks as you pull his hard cock out of his waistband and shyly lick around his tip.
“I don’t think I want him to be my boyfriend anymore.” You confess before you lick a stripe along the bottom of his shaft and he groans. Your lips wrap around his swollen head and you suck lightly on it, already tasting the beads of precum leaking out. “Mm, tastes good.” You murmur against his shaft before you take more of him into your mouth.
Logan subtly bucked his hips up, his tip tapping the back of your throat gently and you moan. “Fuck,” He swears, his fingers lace through your soft hair, tangling in the long strands as he begins guiding you. “This the reward you wanted?” He asks and you nod eagerly, your eyes snapping up to meet his as he’s got your head bobbing up and down, your mouth slobbering on his throbbing cock. “You wanna swallow?” He asks and you nod again, your moans muffled as he shoves himself deep down your throat and suddenly his load shoots down your gullet. “Shit, was that okay?” He asks, hoping he wasn’t too rough.
You quickly nod, smiling as you wipe the excess of his cum from your bottom lip and suck it off your thumb as you stand up and sit back down on his lap. Logan moves his hands up your sweater, squeezing your sides as you begin rolling your hips gently against him, your damp, clothed cunt rubbing along the length of him teasingly. Logan restrains himself as he watches you get yourself off on him, your hands resting on his chest as your head hangs back, and he can’t stop thinking about how damn pretty you look like this, so needy just for him. “Logan!” You moan, your hips bucking quickly, sharply as you feel yourself getting close to a release and he encourages you with a light smack on the ass. “Oh!” You shudder as you cum suddenly, gasping as his hands grip tightly onto your bare thighs, easily maneuvering you to continue your pace and you cry softly. “Fuck!”
“This is your reward, sweetheart.” Logan says against your neck, sinking down in his seat slightly to push his hard cock against you. Your brows scrunch together in pleasure as he overstimulates you, as he lets you use him to get off again. “You’ve been so good.” He growls into your neck, sucking on your skin as you cum, again, whining against his temple as you’re holding tightly onto him.
“Logan,” You say breathlessly, leaning your forehead against his as you slowly come to a stop, your core quivering with a desperate longing for something more, something deeper. “I-please-fuck me.” You plead, kissing him desperately, scratching through his thick beard with your dainty fingers as you speak against his mouth. “Please, I need you so bad.”
You are so whiny and desperate for him, it makes Logan feel smug that you want him this badly. “Baby,” He says in that tone that you’ve come to know all too well and you groan softly in annoyance. “I can’t.”
“Just the tip?” You suggest innocently, rubbing his tip with your thumb between your bodies as you bite your lip, hoping he says yes, hoping he gives in this time.
Logan chuckles, shaking his head lightly as he lets you wrap your hand around him. “You know that’s not all you’re gonna want, greedy girl.” And you quickly shake your head in disagreement, swearing you won’t ask for more. You know you’re lying, and he does too. “You gonna do as you’re told?” He asks, stifling a groan as you pull your panties to the side, and you nod while you stroke your clit along the underside of his dick. His body is tense as you slowly line his swollen tip to your tight, wet hole. “Take it nice and easy, sweetheart. Don’t hurt yourself.”
Hot tears well in your eyes as his head pushes past your rim, and you gasp, stopping immediately with just his tip prodding at your entrance. Logan lets out a low, guttural sound as you squeeze him tightly and he pulls your sweater over your head so he can bury his face between your bare tits, kissing your soft skin as he holds you close while your arousal leaks down his shaft. Logan’s never seen you quite as nude as you are now and he’s transfixed by the sight of you, cupping and kissing on your breasts as you sit on the very end of his cock. “Let me - take - some more?” You ask in between shallow breaths and he shakes his head. “Please, Uncle Logan,” You whine, pulling on the hair at the base of his skull as you wiggle your hips in an attempt to take him all in and he suddenly spanks you. “Ah!”
“Stay still.” He orders and you frown, not realizing he knows you can’t possibly take all of him in one go. “You’re gonna sit still, you’re not going to move, got it?” He says and you nod, biting your lip hard as you feel him push slowly up into you from below. “Let me just watch this.” He says, his tongue moistened his lips as he observed himself pushing into your little cunt which is already dripping around his shaft. His thoughts are running wild as he realizes you’re no longer a virgin, he realizes he just tainted you, and that thought alone could be enough to get him to blow his load.
Neither of you were going to be able to just stop at the tip, you were too needy and he was too weak. Your body was trembling from the way his thick, hard cock stretched out your virgin pussy and you had tears welling in your eyes, blurring your vision as he finally sat fully sheathed inside you, raw, letting you feel every vein around his shaft as it dragged against your sensitive walls. “Mm!” You squeaked, your eyes screwed shut as you shuddered on his lap.
“Sweetheart,” Logan groans, his head falling backwards as he shut his eyes, his grip tight on your thighs to keep you from moving on him. He can feel your muscles quake underneath his touch. “You’ve got a tight little hole.” The squeeze around his girth is unlike anything he’s ever felt before, and he just hopes he can keep his composure long enough to get you to cum again before he does.
All you can do is whimper and your head hangs forward as you cry softly from the sting of the stretch. A tear falls on his abdomen, staining his undershirt which he takes off and sets aside, knowing he’ll need it in a minute. Your small, shaky hands caress his bare torso as you admire how built and hairy he is - such a very burly man. “You-you’re big, Uncle Logan.” You breathe out, your voice trembling.
His cock throbs and he sighs, sitting up which makes you cry out from the sudden movement of him inside you. His beard is tickling your breasts as he’s sucking amorously on your neck, marking your skin as hard as he can with hickeys and you whine, fisting at his hair as you struggle not to move. “You like having your uncle’s cock inside you?” He asks suddenly and you mewl, nodding eagerly as you bite your lip hard. Your arms wrap around his head as you hold him close, lacing your fingers through his thick, greying hair. His hands are rubbing on your ass, spreading you open and pulling you down even further until you feel the head of his cock pressing into your cervix. “I could cum right now,” He growls, biting the skin over your collarbone as you whimper from the pain. “Could make you mine right now.”
“Yes, please,” You beg, very lightly lifting yourself off him and coming back down with a gasp. Logan’s arms shudder around your body, his fingers dig deeply into the flesh of your ass. “Oh, fuck, doesn’t that feel good?” You ask, taking his bearded face in your hands so you can kiss him, distract him as you move your hips again and he groans. “You know you want to.” You breathe out, pushing on his chest so he’ll sit back on the couch, balancing your weight on him as you lift yourself off him again, a little further this time, and he swears as you take him back in. “Fuck, yes, Logan!” You cry, your fingernails dig into his strong chest as you continue your pattern, slowly rising to his tip and falling back down, the natural lubricant of your arousal making it easier to glide along him.
“Sw-Sweetheart, please, st-stop.” Logan pants, his head resting against the back of the couch with eyes closed as you fuck yourself dumb on his hard cock. One of his hands clutches onto his undershirt lying beside him, the other onto your waist, squeezing you occasionally to remind himself not to cum, not to impregnate his niece, but he’s too far gone from the way your young cunt takes him in so eagerly. You are so lost in the pleasure, the filthy noises your wet pussy is making as you fill yourself up with him, the painful tension in your lower abdomen threatening to snap at any moment. You couldn’t possibly stop now.
“Not-uh-yet, ‘m so close!” You whimper, your teeth bite down so hard on your bottom lip you faintly taste blood. You run a hand through his hair, your other hand clutching onto his shoulder as you’re determined to finish once more, this time with him inside you. Your eyes meet and he sees the tenacity in your dazed eyes, it makes him forget about his shirt and both his hands move to your ass. He’s grabbing onto fistfuls of your plush flesh harshly as he begins fucking you down onto his cock with much more force and you let out a strained scream. “Yes! Yes! Use me!” Your legs shake violently with the release of your orgasm, your juices coating his balls and thighs as you cum harder than you thought was ever possible.
With that, having controlled himself as much as he could, he stands up with your legs still wrapped around his waist and he bounces you recklessly on his cock. Your head falls on his shoulder as you bite him there, muffling your screams as he’s being so rough and you can’t think of a single thing except his cock and the way he is spearing you with it. “You’ve been asking for this since day one, sweet girl.” He groans, spanking you to make you cry out. “You still want it?” He asks and you weakly nod, though it’s more as if your head is simply bobbing around, unable to hold it up yourself, but that’s close enough to a yes for him. “Fuck!” Logan growls, pinning you down on his cock as he fills your pussy with his cum, hunching over slightly and wrapping his arms securely around your waist as his body jolts from the force of his release. Your little frame quakes in his hold, your soft crying of his name the only sound filling his apartment as he pumps you full.
A silence then falls over the both of you, panting and shakily breathing as you remain connected, still wrapped in each other’s arms. You weakly lift your head to look at him and he kisses you, a soft mewl falls from your lips as you return the gesture and Logan carries you to his bedroom. “Please don’t leave.” You say in a quiet voice as he lays you down. “Not yet, I want to keep feeling you.” Logan chuckles and lifts you back up so he can lie on the bed with you on his chest instead. “Uncle Logan, I’m not on birth control.” You remind him in a sleepy voice, the aches and bruises on your body catching up to you now as you’re laying still on top of him.
“We’ll take care of it in the morning.” He whispers reassuringly as he kisses the top of your head. “Go to sleep, sweetheart.”
And you do, you sleep better than you have in years. While Logan sleeps better than he has in centuries.
🥃🥃🥃🥃🥃🥃🥃🥃🥃🥃🥃🥃🥃🥃🥃🥃🥃🥃
🏷️: @dontfeedthebigbadwolf @peterparkernotfound @httpsells @evasmlp @ayatotiddies @thatlittlered @seasonofthenerd @littlemisscantloveyouback @scorpiosaintt @simpingfor-wakasa @spencerswh0r3 @pinkanonwriting @captain039 @fictionalmen-dilflover @shybluebirdninja @virgoxfa1ry @thatweirdtheaternerd12 @am-3-thyst @oooof-ifellforyou @ghxstiie @theoraekenslover @iloveelvis @obsessed-oops @wolvndmouth @imtherain
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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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harrysfolklore · 4 months
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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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starkwlkr · 7 months
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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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abbyfmc · 17 days
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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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bee-wg · 26 days
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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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slttygeto · 1 year
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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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2023 © all works belong to slttygeto. do not repost my work anywhere else.
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redflagshipwriter · 2 months
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Mama Bat 9: Dinner Out
masterpost
After her promise, the bats were a whirlwind of activity. He didn’t know where Uncle D or Alfred went, but Cass and Bruce gently bustled him across the house to plan his ecto dinner like it was an attack on an enemy base.
“I think it was around here,” Danny said uncertainly over the map in Bruce’s study. “I don’t know the names of any of these places. But there was this abandoned-looking theme park that had a lot of what I need.”
He didn’t have to be the world’s smartest ghost to recognize that there was a lot of tension in the air after he said that. That tracked. There were not many pleasant ways for a place in the human realm to accumulate a glut of deathly energy.
“That makes sense,” Bruce said. “Cass, honey, do you think we should ask Dick and Jason?” He folded the map back up along the same lines as before without even looking. Danny wondered at why he had that muscle memory. Did he fold everything in the same pattern?
“Big visible muscle,” Cass agreed. Her phone appeared out of nearly nowhere. “Danny.” 
He stood up even straighter. 
“Is Amity dangerous?” She pinned him in a look, her soft brown eyes arresting. “Dangerous to Jasmine Fenton?”
“Jazz,” he corrected automatically. Cass nodded. He rolled his ankles around, stimming below their line of sight. “Uh.” Danny faltered. “Um.” He bit his lower lip and tried to feel less like there was a painful hand around his heart. 
He hadn’t thought so. But he would never have thought that he and Vlad were in serious danger, either. Now that the GIW and Mom and Dad knew… They would know who to ask for more information.
His parents would never push his friends or Jazz too hard. But the idea of the GIW trying to intimidate his friends and family was almost too upsetting to consider.
“Batdad extracts them?” Cass cocked her head at him to make it even more of a question. It was up to him. Was it a good idea?
Danny licked his lips. His mouth was so dry. He struggled for words. “Maybe.” One shaky inhalation. “If, um.” It sounded like someone else’s voice. It couldn’t be him saying that right now. “If it wouldn’t be too obtrusive… I don’t want to extract them and then, like, they can’t go back if they wanna.”
“We can handle that.” Bruce made eye contact to promise. He looked, Danny thought, like a more responsible, boring version of Jack Fenton. His eyes burned. 
“That would be, uh. Cool.” Danny managed to get that out and avert his eyes, but he felt like everyone could see that he was about to cry.
Whatever. He leaned to the left before he consciously knew that Cass was lifting an arm to put over his shoulder. It slotted in place like they’d done it a billion times. Danny tilted his head towards the nails she gently scratched through his hair.
“Batdad, Damibat, Timbird, Stephanie,” Cass listed easily. “Amity.” She jostled Danny a little. “And we get dinner. You only need me. I’m the best. But we bring boys too, Dickbird and Jason.” She blew a raspberry.  
Bruce looked exhausted and fond. “She is the best,” he agreed. Danny watched their interplay like it was a pingpong match. “I think you ought to go tonight to get something to eat. Would you recommend that we contact Jazz and your friends in the daytime, or should we leave as soon as possible?”
…They all had school in the day. Even Jazz was still in high school. Danny eyed Bruce doubtfully. He did know about school, right? “Night is probably better.” 
“I’ll make a few calls.” Bruce sat back and seemed to flip a switch into planning mode.
“Text!” Cass said, disagreeing strongly. She rolled her eyes, but it wasn’t too mean. “Grandfather Bat.”
“Oh!” Danny startled. “Um, I should contact Sam and Tucker. So that they know to expect you.” 
Bruce balked. “We don't normally contact civilians about ongoing investigations…” He looked constipated about it.
Danny crossed his arms. He wanted to think it was stubbornness more than self comfort. “You're not going to like, creep up on my friends. If they want to go, they need some time to get ready.” 
“Preparing could give away the plan to observers.” 
“Is Amity Park Batman's domicile?” Cass asked archly. “Batdad.” She put both her hands on his desk and leaned forward to give her father an unimpressed look. “Mayor of Amity Park?”
Bruce snorted and then covered his mouth guiltily. “Point taken.” He cleared his throat, trying to retain some dignity. “Danny, do you need help to contact your friends?” 
He shrugged. “Just a computer.” Danny fiddled with the strings on his hoodie. Tucker's hoodie. “I know you gave me a phone, but we thought -”
“That communications might be intercepted,” Bruce said, nodding as if that kind of paranoia was commonplace. “It's the first thing I would do if I expected a person of interest to contact a friend. What's your workaround?”
Danny bit his lip. It sounded stupid when he said it aloud. 
Ten minutes later, Damian joined Cass in her perch on the back of the sofa and watched with morbid curiosity as Danny joined Doomed chatroom after chatroom, scanning for Sam's username. “She’ll leave it running whenever she's home in case I ping her,” Danny defended weakly. He left another chatroom. 
Damian hummed, two pitches that came off incredibly doubtful. He had a gift for that.
“No, really, this- yes!” Danny pumped a fist and sent a HEY ITS YA BOI message. 
It took seconds for Sam to get to it and add his temporary account as a friend. She sent a DM before he could and then ignored his response to start a voice chat. 
Once he'd confirmed to her satisfaction that he was himself and that he hadn't gotten any deader in Gotham, he passed on the information that the friggin Batman was going to stop by Amity and wanted to check in. “But don’t worry, he’s kinda cool,” Danny added. “I gotta go. I am starving.”
Sam said all the rude words that she knew in quick succession. Damian looked sort of impressed. “Fine,” she said, obviously annoyed about it. “I’ll meet with Batman, but only because I hate the GIW more.”
“You hate Batman?” Damian asked. It was hard to tell from his tone if he had any feelings about that.
“That’s Damian,” Danny introduced. “He’s cool.”
“Hey,” Sam said shortly. “Yeah, he’s basically a cop. You have a problem with that?” Her voice went a little too aggressive.
“Just so you know, Damian is a child,” Danny said warily. 
Sam scoffed. “You said he’s cool. I respect him enough to fight him if he’s wrong.”
“Batman may be improved by your feedback,” Damian said idly, as if he wasn’t making trouble for his father on purpose. “You should be certain to give it to him as soon as you see him. Do you have time to prepare a presentation?”
Danny sniggered into his hand.
“I can reuse the posterboard from Current Events class, yeah.” Sam mused. “Good idea. Alright, thanks for the heads up. It’s really good to hear from you. We were starting to get worried here. You missed a check in, you know.” She was trying to sound tough, but there was a hint of strain.
Danny flushed. “Yeah, I had logistical difficulties,” he said, which sounded less pathetic than “I got robbed while I was sleeping outside and had no money to  use to access a computer.”
He ignored the thoughtful look he knew he was getting from Cass and signed off. He avoided making eye contact with anyone as he stretched, hands over his head. Then Danny put his hands on his hips and kind of stretched by rotating his back around. “Well, that’s done. Have fun with Sam, Uncle D.”
Damian made a hum in the back of his throat, eyes lost in thought. “I think I will.” Then he stalked away without a proper goodbye. Just a big housecat, that kid.
“Do you think Jason and Dick will be here soon?” Don’t ask, don’t ask, Danny silently hoped.
Cass looked at him for a long moment, silently weighing options and odds behind her dark eyes. Then she nodded. She turned on her heel and left, obviously expecting him to follow.  
Danny jogged to keep up. How did she move so fast without running? She had short legs, too. He was still busy pondering when they rounded a hallway corner and heard male voices from the entryway.
“Wait.” Cass shoved him the last step with a gentle palm press to the shoulder and then flitted back down the hallway.
“Hey, buddy,” Dick said.
Danny managed a nod in return. He stuffed his hands into his hoodie pocket and tried not to look like he was hiding.
Jason all but oozed reassurance at him, without ever looking at him. As far as the eye could tell, the blonde was barely aware that Danny was present. But under the surface of his skin, his masses of ectoplasm were roiling with  a sort of proprietary indulgence. 
It was a kindness, probably, that the two men continued their conversation as if they were still alone. Danny didn’t really pay attention, thoughts consumed with  a mixture of nerves about his worlds colliding and sobbing relief that he might get really, genuinely full for the first time since he had to run away from Amity Park. He edged a little closer to Jason without thinking about it consciously. 
Cass arrived silently. Danny looked up as she entered the room only because he could sense her steady presence. “Time to go,” he said.
Jason startled with a very small jump. His expression instantly changed to exhausted resignation.
“Haha,” Cass said, pointing at him.
“Poor scared little guy,” Dick cooed. “You can’t sneak up on him like that.”
“Too scary,” Cass said, nowhere near as convincing as Dick at empathy.
Jason scowled. “Shut up,” he complained. He zipped up his jacket and yanked the door open. The sound of early crickets immediately cut into the house along with a fresh, cool breeze. “You both suck.”
Danny felt a faint smile pull at his face. He ducked his head and fell in, following at Jason’s heels. He didn’t look back to see who shut the door. 
Dick drove them all. They parked a few blocks away and made it across the barren, creepy fairgrounds in utter silence. Danny followed his instincts and the source that he’d sensed from kilometers away in the city center but had been too worn down to even try to trek to without at least feeding his human body.
“So, what now?”  Dick turned a cautious circle. “I didn’t exactly expect to see a physical object for you to eat, but I did sort of expect something.”
Danny made a face. “If I had the right tech I could filter and extract it out of the air, condense it into a really dense, liquid form. But, uh.” He turned a little to the side to avoid eye contact and hunched into his hoodie. “I sort of need to just hang out and…filter feed.” He grimaced. He sounded like a dumb fish.
“Inefficient,” Cass observed.
He nodded. “Yeah, but I’m really drained, so I need to be around a high concentration to get a jumpstart. If I needed less, I could probably just…” Danny made a circle gesture and sort of pointed at Jason. “Hang around him, I guess.”
Cass hummed in the back of her throat. “Perimeter.” Then she ran directly at a wall and hefted herself up onto the roof of the derelict funhouse. She was out of sight in seconds, which was impressive athleticism. Danny watched her go with raised eyebrows.
Dick huffed and shuffled even closer to Jason, clearly wary of Cass. “You can’t be the favorite uncle,” he lamented. “That should be me.” Danny choked down a laugh and pretended to be very busy filter feeding.
“You’re just crabby because you aren’t full of delicious ghost juice,” Jason muttered into Dick’s ear at a volume that he clearly thought Danny wouldn’t hear. The banter didn’t stop him from making periodic glances around the area. He caught an elbow to the gut from Dick for the comment and the inattention. Danny took a step further away from jabbing range.
“We aren’t here to hear you brag about how juicy you are,” Dick said out of the side of his mouth. 
EW. But Danny felt smug satisfaction in Jason’s aura at that answer, so apparently it wasn’t as nasty sounding to him as it was to Danny. He made a blegh face, scraping his tongue against his teeth.
‘Maybe I should tell them at some point that I have better than human hearing.’ He pointedly wandered a few steps further away and pretended to be occupied with sniffing out the highest concentration of ectoplasm.
Jason grinned unpleasantly. “No, I usually have that conversation with all of your exes- oof.” Jason bent over and tried to breathe through the hit to his diaphragm.
Danny did his best to ignore the commentary from the peanut gallery. He took deep breaths and tried to keep an eye on all the shadows. 
Amusement Mile wasn’t saturated with high quality ectoplasm like Amity Park, but nothing ever should be. Danny licked his lips and tried to stay alert. There could be any number of distressed or territorial dead around a place like this. It was eerily still. 
“This place is just plain creepy.” Danny hid a shudder. “What happened here?”
Jason huffed a laugh with absolutely no joy in it. “It’s more like what keeps happening here.” Danny glanced over at just the right angle to realize that Jason had a gun in his pocket. Holy shit. A gun. His eyes went wide.
“But nothing should happen tonight,” Dick cut in. His eyes looked tight and tense in a way that his breezy tone didn’t hint at. “The person who likes to use this area as a staging ground is currently in lockup. We double checked before we came out here.”
All three of them tensed when Cass jumped back down off the same building she’d climbed earlier. “Suspicious,” she said flatly.
Dick and Jason instantly lost their facades of ease. Danny realized, a bit late, that this place was really fucking concerning even to the living. “What’s wrong?” Dick snapped out. His posture changed and somehow his shoulders looked broader. Alarmed, Danny glanced between the adults.  
“Someone was here.” Cass held up a very familiar piece of tech. “Inside vent.”
Danny felt the blood drain out of his face. Cass zeroed in on the expression. “GIW,” he said. “Uh, that measures… that senses ghosts.” He licked his lips. “I think we should go.”
“Are you- are you going to be hungry?” Jason’s brow furrowed fiercely. “You think they might have an alert that you came out here?”
“We are more capable than we look.” Dick promised. And his serious voice was pretty reassuring, actually, all things considered. But Danny still felt like he was going to be sick. 
 Tires screeched. It was too late to get out of here.
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steddieas-shegoes · 3 months
Text
like fire
for @steddie-week prompt 'touch starved'
rated m | 958 words | cw: mentioned child abuse, implied/referenced sexual content | tags: post-vecna, getting together, touch starved steve harrington
🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥
the last time steve's dad touched him was with a palm to his face, a demoralizing slap to remind him how little he thought of him before disappearing indefinitely to do anything but accept that his son wasn't perfect.
the last time steve's mom touched him was in an attempt at an apology for choosing his dad over him, barely a brush against the red handprint on his cheek before she was following her husband out the door and out of steve's life.
the first time eddie munson touches him, he's certain he's about to die. broken glass against his neck is sure to be the last thing he feels.
but it's not.
as eddie realizes they aren't there to hurt him, his grip eases and lets go completely. as he drops his hand, his hand grazes against steve's.
steve checks his skin for the burn mark he's sure is there after the heat of the touch, but it's just skin. winter-pale skin with freckles and a scar from a fight he lost, but no redness or blisters.
it sticks with him.
when they're doing their best to save hawkins, the world, and eddie's life, it sticks with him.
he knows robin caught on early, but was gracious enough to keep her thoughts to herself as they focused on defeating vecna and keeping the kids alive.
they get eddie out, but barely. he's bleeding too much, and he's near delirious as they slide him into the backseat of steve's car.
"felt like fire," he says as his eyes close.
"what did?" steve whispers, hoping that the kids are grabbing bikes to meet him at the hospital.
"touching you."
steve watches as his breathing gets shorter, pained whimpers escaping from his lips. his eyes don't open again. steve wishes he could kiss him.
he doesn't get to see eddie again until hopper manages to clear his name nearly a week later.
he got updates via his uncle wayne, used the excuse that the kids were hounding him for answers when in reality, steve had barely heard from them because their parents refused to let them out of their sight. even dustin had barely been on the walkies, his mom making him go to work with her during the day so he wouldn't be alone.
but the moment he was allowed to go see him, he was walking through the door to his room with a stuffed bear from the hospital gift shop and a smile on his face.
wayne had already left for the night, and eddie had the television on something he wasn't watching, most likely for background noise. silence was hard after experiencing the world nearly ending.
eddie's eyes were closed, but steve could tell he wasn't actually asleep.
"hey, eds."
eddie's eyes blinked open, widening when he realized who it was entering his room.
"steve?"
when steve sat down in the chair next to his bed, he set the stuffed bear in eddie's lap and smiled.
"he needs a name."
eddie glanced down at the bear in his lap and back up at steve, confused and still.
"i think aragorn would be cute, but honestly i'm not sure if he's a bad guy or a good guy."
steve was getting nervous with the silence, certain that he was going to be told to leave, that he was being too much and that eddie would want space from him.
why would eddie wanna see him anyway? it's not like they were friends. sure, it felt like lightning going through his veins when they touched and eddie may have flirted with him the few times they actually spoke, but maybe that was just how it was for everyone. eddie was a firecracker.
a spark on his hand startled him from his thoughts.
eddie's fingertips were barely touching the back of his hand, but it was enough.
"like fire," eddie muttered, barely audible over the sharp intake of breath.
"you feel it too?" steve thought he was being dramatic, thought maybe that was just his reaction to a gentle touch.
eddie's hand covered steve's and for the first time in too long, steve felt warm.
he still shivered at the touch, surprised at how soft it was despite the rough hands with calloused fingertips.
"feels like i'm supposed to keep you warm."
steve melted.
the touches came easily, always gentle and kind, even when they were hands gripping thighs and teeth biting necks.
it didn't take long for eddie to understand how touch starved steve had been.
it was easy to tell.
steve wouldn't flinch away, but he tensed for a moment, even at the the slightest press of his lips against his shoulder or his hand against the small of his back. he was unsure how to accept the gentleness that eddie was giving him, but it got easier over time.
eddie would help him out of his clothes after a long day of volunteering, pushing him into the shower, washing his body and hair while steve closed his eyes and let him.
he'd massage his back and shoulders until steve felt like he was becoming part of the bed.
his lips brushed against his ear as he whispered for him to turn over and eddie would straddle his hips while he kissed him until steve was moaning and arching up into eddie's hands, silently begging for more.
and eddie always gave him more.
more touches, more kisses, more love.
he never went more than a day without eddie's hands on him. he forgot what it was like to want someone to touch him with love. eddie did it every time they were in the same room, and he'd keep doing it for the rest of their lives.
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flamingpudding · 10 months
Text
Drake's family secret
A/N: Another story idea I had and I probably will keep working on. I kinda want to continue on it I just have no idea how or with what yet.
Tim had a secret. Well, he had many secrets but this was one he had kept closed off for a very long time now. It was one of the reasons he fabricated a fake uncle to avoid getting adopted. After all, if you were put into the system how could you possibly get found or find your last living blood relative? His family didn't know and he never intended for them to know anyway. It was a secret well-kept of the Drake family, one that even the public didn't know about. His parents hadn't thrown around money to keep anyone involved silent for nothing after all.
But Tim had had vague memories as well as found the last remaining documents years ago. The problem had been that he hadn't been Robin yet at that time and couldn't do research like he can now. Tim had often wondered if one of the reasons he had followed Batman around back then was to see if he could help him with that matter too, yet he had never brought it up to Bruce nor any of his other siblings.
In a way it made Tim feel guilty now as he looked over that old piece of paper. The only hint he had until now.
He looked over the security video of Wayne Enterprise again. Watching that group of high schoolers that was there on a school trip visit. His eyes tracked one specific student among them. If things were different Tim would joke about how the boy looked like perfect Bruce adoption material. But as it was, Tim was not going to make that joke.
Because as much as the boy fell into the stereotype of Bruce's adoption problem, the boy had facial features that looked very much like one Jenet Drake. Tim could honestly see it, sure his memories were not the best in regards to his parents but he had kept at least some photos for references. But recognizing that threw in a whole other set of problems.
For one he would need to find a way to make sure the Drake Family secret doesn't get exposed to his family too soon. Second, he needed to find a way to approach the boy without looking suspicious. Third, he was on a time limit, according to what he found the school trip the boy was on lasted for a week. Once the boy was out of Gotham it would be even harder to find a passable excuse to approach him. Fourth, he would also need a blood sample. As much as the boy's looks alone could make Tim believe it, the rest of his family was paranoid and if he was completely homestead, he also would need it for his reassurance that he wasn't wrong. Which again he kind of doubted even with this little amount of evidence. The fifth problem in this was, how was he going to break it to the rest of his family.
Because the best kept Drake's Family secret, he was pretty sure he was the last remaining person in the know, was that Tim had a little brother. A brother that was born when he was around 3 or four years old. A little brother who had never gotten to grow up with him because Jack and Jenet Drake had used their constant traveling as cover so the public wouldn't know about him. They already had an heir with Tim, they didn't need a second child. So the moment his little brother had been born he was given up in a closed adoption. Never to be seen again and never to be connected to the Drake family.
Tim only knew about him because he had vague memories about his mother's pregnancy and also had later found the papers in his parents' office when he was around ten. He remembered how upset he had been at the discovery but also how he hadn't been able to do anything about it. Though it was back then that he had also decided that the moment he could he would do everything he could to find him. Things only started to change when he became Robin and then Red Robin. Now he had the resources and knowledge to find the little brother he had never gotten to grow up with.
But too much time had passed and his parents had been thorough when covering their tracks, which resulted in Tim having been unable to find that little brother of his. Having no name and no idea who adopted him, didn't help either. But Tim had had less to work with before, yet the search had given him massive troubles, to the point that he HAD contemplated getting the rest of his family in on it.
But now that wasn't necessary anymore, there was an actual chance again.
Thankfully he had come in late today, if he hadn't he wouldn't have seen the group of High School students on a school trip in the Lobby waiting for their tour guide. He wouldn't have seen the group of teens that lacked behind their fellow students a bit. But most importantly he wouldn't have seen that kid that looked like adoption bait for Bruce. That then by closer inspection had so many facial similarities to his mother that Tim had first thought he was hallucinating.
Now he was sitting in his office, watching the group of High Schoolers getting a tour through the building through the security cams while trying to come up with the perfect plan that didn't look too suspicious as he watched the boy who could be his blood-related little brother. Oh, Damian would throw a fit if he learned about having another brother, Tim mused for a moment as he noted down the boy's, Danny's, excitement about their aerospace department. He had already decided, if Danny was not living adequately he would pull all the strings he could to get his little brother home.
So far Tim had found out that the boy's name was Danny Fenton. He would dig into that later more. He would also make sure that if Danny was his little brother, he saw to it that he was getting treated right. He had noticed how his little brother appeared overly tired and there was a bandage hidden below his shirt plus through the security camera footage, he had also seen that there was a hint of scarring on his left arm.
For now, though he had sent a message to the tour guide to end the tour in his office, for something like a surprise introduction to Tim Drake-Wayne. He would continue to build up his plan of getting to know and confirm his little brother's status from there.
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moonselune · 3 months
Note
How do you think the BG3 companions would be as parents or aunties/uncles? I personally headcanon that Shadowheart would be a very doting mother but would be the fun aunt.
OOoooOOOOoOO yes I'm doing this for all of them, no character can escape me now
Karlach:
As an aunt:
She is definitely the auntie that comes round and the children just band together trying to take her to the ground
"Get Auntie Karlach"
And how auntie Karlach puts up a fight, she is swinging children around throwing them onto soft furnishings, tickling them.
Eventually she will relent and let the children pin her to the floor, pretending to 'die'
Though she has done this too convincingly and it too you half an hour to calm your child down, assuring them that auntie karlach was not in fact dead, and this was their aunt and not a zombie.
If there's just one child, you know that when they hear auntie karlach is coming round they are using al of their free time strategising on how to get her
Karlach will sometime take them as their hostage and refuse to let them go when they are hugging and just carries them around till you agree to her terms
Which is either a later bedtime for you (because at this point you have joined forces) or extra cake.
As a mother:
Mama K !!!!
So caring and doting, nothing is too much for her
She would move mountains for her kid and support them regardless
They want to be a bookworm? She wants to hear all your favourite stories
They are more sporty, she will beat them at every game and only occasionally let them win
Is honestly a big kid herself so I can so imagine, you having to call them in for dinner and they are both pouting saying that want to play outside for longer
definitely the less strict parent, they could probably get away with anything
as long as it doesn't mean they get hurt
as soon as they get hurt, mama k is not letting them out of their sight for a WEEK
Minthara:
As an aunt:
Not my kid, not my responsibility attitude
you want a dagger? Sure here's how to hold it properly
you cut yourself on it, that's too damn bad learn to hold it better
definitely buys them a ridiculous amount of expensive gifts but she doesn't really realise it
think of the vibe of "What can one banana cost? ten dollars?"
as soon as they get messy or are dirty they are not coming within 10 feet of her
Snot bubble? That child is getting yeeted across the room
Very much this
As a mother:
I have so many thoughts about this
I think because of her exile she would look at the drow matron system much differently
Instead of raising children to be pawns and agents of her plan there would be a deeper level of relationship meaning a deeper level of loyalty.
Loyalty is a big thing for Minthara and what is more loyal than the unconditional love of a child
so she is going to nurture and tend to that relationship, make that bond between her and her child incredibly strong, they want the child to adore her and respect her, so she will adore and respect them back (that's what she tells herself, in reality she loves her children dearly)
She will dote on them, ensure they only have the best, this is her child after all
Very possessive of the child, and very overprotective
Would definitely guilt the child
but that's probably the worst part of her parenting overall I feel like she would be a very fair and good parent in general (especially compared to normal drow mothers)
Lae'zel:
As an aunt:
aunt? more like coach.
she is training them to be the best warrior or whatever they want to be ever
will she drag your child out of bed at the crack of dawn so they can practice
will then tell them Gith stories when the child starts to fall asleep on them afterwards
carries them with care and tenderness
is so bad for contradicting you
parent said no? Well auntie Lae'zel says yes so lets do it
not allowed this thing? here's ten of them
As a mother:
I actually think she would be rather laid back
she wouldn't fret over them and trust that they knew what they were doing
though as soon as they don't know what they are doing she is there right away to hover over them and help
slightly protective but only because she doesn't trust others
teaches them self defence at the youngest age possible
tells them the best bedtime stories in extremely graphic detail to the point where you have to step in
but the child doesn't mind
in fact how did they manage to get to sleep so easily
her kid is better than the rest, can do no wrong, bad grades? More like bad teacher.
Shadowheart:
As an aunt:
Wine aunt - it's basically canon at this point, so all of these will be with a glass of wine in her hand lmao
Would be so down to have tea parties with them
prefers the sit down games rather than the running around screaming ones - those are for auntie karlach
Shows you all of her animals and teaches you their names and how to care for them
would definitely give them a pet even if you had already said no
and by the time you realise what's happened your child is too attached to it
definitely would let them mess around, and be like if you hurt yourself its your fault
but as soon as they hurt themselves, she's there healing them bribing them not to tell you what happened
As a mother:
helicopter mom to begin with and then eventually when her child proves to be more robust than expected she relaxes a bit
just says yes to any animal they find and want to bring home
so now there's foxy, ratty, mousey and badgery (Shadowheart tried to suggest names but they were having none of it)
Is always there for you no matter what, you can tell her anything and you feel like you can tell her anything
has a tendency to be a little strict but only for your own good
Jaheira:
As an aunt:
she is the aunt of all aunts
gives the best hugs, tells you the best stories
teases you all the time
just constant poking fun
and the day you give it back
she is just so proud
also has that attitude of 'not my kid not my responsibility' but that is such a lie
will love you like her own
As a mother:
we already see what Jaheira is like a mother
very welcoming but has a habit to push them away when there's danger involved or perhaps can be preoccupied with 'the greater good'
I also think that Jaheira is the type of mother to keep everything, every baby tooth, every drawing, everything
She keeps them in a little chest and when she is down she looks at them and she always feels so much better.
Gale:
As an uncle:
hey kids wanna see a cool trick
blows up the living room
"DO IT AGAIN!"
brings them books on just everything
reads to them a lot and teaches them things that they probably shouldn't know at their age
the kid needs an alibi?
Gale is there for it
We've seen his dialogue in the grove, we all know that he supports childhood deliquency and he will so support them in it
As a father:
Thinks their child is the most precious thing in the world
the light of his life (aside from you)
will teach them magic before they can even speak
puts on the most beautiful illusions for the child to sleep to
lives just to see them smile
very overprotective and guilty of infantilising your child
he can't help it, you are just so adorable
PTA Mom, he runs that motherfucker
No stacey, your lemon buns are not acceptable, and no its not because my child detests them, get a grip
he just absolutely adores his child
Astarion:
As an uncle:
Astarion would steal your child to help with his schemes and nobody can convince me otherwise
You think I? With this adorable baby on my hip, would steal your fine jewels? Honestly the audacity
Uses your child as an alibi
How could I do it? I was tending to my dear child
Ser that's not your-
MY DEAR CHILD
Much like Minthara, loves the child until they start making a mess
Would so make them little outfits and the child's teddies little outfits
As a father:
I believe that Astarion would see the child as his absolute fresh start
he is going to be the best version of himself for the child
he is going to try his absolute best for them
going to give them the world
will definitely teach them to lock pick at a young age
and again uses them as an alibi
You think I, with my adorable impressionable child right here, would steal? Truly your standard of parenting may be low but mine is not.
When the baby is on the way he is just stress sewing, your house is filled with baby clothes, blankets, quilts, hats anything Astarion could imagine that the child might need
your child in not wearing the same outfit twice, not because of fashion, no because there are simply so many outfits
Wyll:
As an uncle:
Would be the best story teller, and does all the voices and personas
Loves to play and mess around with them
Would teach them how to sword fight like he did with the children in the grove
Would spoil them rotten as well and know he was doing it though if confronted he would play so dumb
What do you mean I only got them this wooden rocking horse, I could have got them two - but I didn't !
As a father:
very similar to Wyll as an uncle
but imagine him passing down all of the stories and life lessons that his father passed down to him
but the thing that gets me in the feels
is him teaching the child how to dance
from them dancing on his toes to them being able to pull of a move flawlessly
Wyll would genuinely get emotional when you no longer need his guidance or help
And by emotional I mean sobbing
definitely overprotective when it comes to your potential dance partners and all that
no one will ever be good enough for his child
Halsin:
As an uncle:
would just steal the child
it is his now
so sorry for your loss but this is definitely not ur baby
yes they look identical but this one belongs to the forest
oh gods he would so kidnap the child if you lived in the city
but to him it's not kidnapping
it's rescuing
the city doesn't deserve such a treasure
teaches them how to carve wood and instills an important respect for nature into them
if your child got in an argument with you they would so pull the
"Well fine! I'm just going to live in the forest with Uncle Halsin!"
As a father:
They are so precious to him
When he looks into their eyes the world is just right
Their first word is bear, obviously
Teaches them druidic magic and how to wildshape
as soon as your child figures it out it is chaos
you have a bear and baby bear running riot
very hesitant to let you go out into the city
to go far from him actually
he has just lost so much
he cannot afford to lose you too
apart from that, he is the best
Rolan:
As an uncle:
the BEST
shows them so many cool tricks
definitely gives them spell books that they probably definitely should not have
would so side with them if they argued with their parent, regardless of if the child is in the right or not
he knows how his siblings can be
shows off to the kid all the time
when they were a baby they would tell Rolan he's found his perfect audience - one that can only watch in wonder
but as you grow you always demand that Uncle Rolan shows your his magic
and it warms his heart every single time
As a father:
He would be so nervous bless him
always thinking he is doing something wrong
but he is an amazing father
encourages and supports their ambitions
reads to them
I just have a picture of Rolan with a baby sling, tending to Ramazith's tower, just thinking aloud to them and when they babble back he exclaims how glad he is that they agree with them
very overprotective
he just doesn't want them to get hurt, like ever.
the child could scrape their knee and say they are fine and Rolan would be having a meltdown
Cannot handle you growing up
You will always be his baby
Raphael:
As an uncle:
I can't imagine him being a very doting uncle
Raphael most likely has loads of nieces and nephews and he does not care for a single one of them
unless
unless one of them is showing particular talent, something that he needs and then he is all over them
would definitely get them in a contract
"You can trust me, your dear Uncle, now just sign there.."
As a father:
M y h e i r
So devoted and dedicated to them
But also possessive and controlling I can imagine
He dictates their schedule, their schooling, where they go, what they wear, who they socialise with
they will be spectacular, his little hellfire
though lets say they disobeyed him, they snuck out for a few hours or so
they are not leaving the house of hope for a few months or so
that's how it works
they will obey him, and they will love him, he is their father, their creator
and if anyone hurts his child?
he will drag the offender to deepest pits of hell and make his child watch as a show of his love for them.
I'm so sorry that this was stuck in the drafts for so long but here it is ! These are mainly a collection of my own rambling thoughts but hope others enjoy it too ! - Seluney xox
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