#especially if you listen to the newer one first.

[thermodynamic-comedian]

high to death (2018) by car seat headrest is so jon/martin. high to death (2011) by car seat headrest is so jane/jonah.

[xneens]

bad ideas (and good results)

pairings: aaron hotchner x reader, sort of spencer reid x reader

summary: after aaron’s rejection, you enlist spencer’s help to make him jealous.

word count: 4.2k

warnings: reader putting on a naked show, airplane turbulence, reid calling reader out for daddy issues

a/n: accidentally put too much spencer in this whoops

You couldn’t take it anymore.

The tension between the two of you was so palpable you were practically choking on it. You couldn’t be alone in a room with him without resisting the urge to throw yourself at him. Even with others around, you still had to peel off your drenched panties when you got home and take a cold shower.

And you knew he felt the same, though he wasn’t as obvious about how it affected him. The team had commented how you were his soft spot, always assigning you to him on cases (when you were newer, you had brushed the thought aside, thinking he wanted to watch over you and evaluate your work), getting your favorite coffee every morning and even putting his jacket around you when you’d been soaked in lake water after catching the unsub.

So when you decided to take the leap and ask him if he wanted to have dinner, you weren’t expecting him to reject you so blatantly. Just a flat-out no. Didn’t even try cushioning the blow.

You still couldn’t erase his expression from your memories as he told you he didn’t like you in that way. Confused at the time, you had stood there dumbfounded by what he was saying. Walking out of his office and heading home was a blur and you wondered if you had imagined his previous actions.

Sitting on your couch with a bottle of wine in hand, you thought about your interactions. Surely you didn’t imagine the way he looked at you on those nights you stayed late to help him with paperwork? Or the way he had comforted you after an unsub had harassed you mercilessly during an interrogation. Or when you had to share that hotel room in Alaska and sleep in the same bed for “warmth.”

After an hour of watching The Wedding Date, you had got an idea that was so delusional it might work. Calling Spencer in the wee hours of the night had him pick up the phone after the second ring, concerned it was an emergency. In a way it was, and he had gotten to your apartment in record time.

He had barely knocked on the door when you swung it open, grabbing by the arm and practically dragging him and his Jesus haircut inside. Spencer raised an eyebrow at your excitement, glancing at the state of your apartment as you drag him to the couch.

“What’s going on? Why’d you need me to come at,” he checks his watch. “Eleven thirty-seven at night?”

You sighed, pushing him to sit on the couch and grabbing the remote. “I kind of asked Hotch out. And before you congratulate me for making the first move, he doesn’t feel the same and basically told me he found me ugly and disgusting.”

Spencer gave you a skeptical look. “He did not say that.”

“Whatever, it was implied,” you reply and Boy Genius gives out a snort at your dramatics. “Anyways, I was watching The Wedding Date when I got this idea … In the movie, this girl hires an escort to be her date to her sister’s wedding because her ex is going to be there. And I was thinking …”

“Go on.” he encourages.

Spencer was the only one to know about your crush on Aaron. The others, especially the girls, had a suspicion you did but Spencer was the one you spilled all your information to. Mostly because he was the first to catch you making eyes at your boss and the closest in age to you. He had listened to the details of your days with Aaron, sometimes debriefing you on how Aaron had interacted with you, the words he had said about you, or the way his body language gave him away. You had eaten up everything he had said in the hopes it had been true.

He was also the only one you could go to with this plan. Derek would’ve had you relayed all the details of your crush to him before agreeing and you didn’t want to tell him he had been right about your crush. You’d have rather died than have Derek Morgan know he was right. Spencer was sweet and attractive, and despite your taste for older men than the doctor, it would be believable considering how much time you spend with each other outside of work.

“I was thinking that we fake date to make Hotch jealous.” you finish, slightly grimacing at how stupid the plan was now that you said it out loud. Before Spencer could reply, you jumped in. “I know it probably won’t make him jealous considering he doesn’t like me that way but on the off chance that it does–I kind of want him to hurt a fraction of what I had tonight. And you probably think the plan is idiotic and pathetic–”

“Alright,” he said, cutting off your rambling. When you raise an eyebrow, he lifts a shoulder. “I don’t think it's idiotic or pathetic. I think we should do it.”

It took you a few seconds to process his words. “Really?”

Spencer nods, giving you a small smile. “Yes, I would do anything for you. Besides, it would be a good experiment and I love experiments.”

You chuckled, rolling your eyes. “Of course you do.”

“So how is this fake dating thing going to work?”

You spend a good half hour talking about the parameters of the plan. Both of you had decided it was best to keep it subtle instead of announcing to the team you were “seeing” each other. Neither of you would confirm it and if asked, you’d redirect the topic somewhat noticeably so whoever had asked would be able to pick up on it.

Spencer surprised you when he came up with the idea for small touches and light flirting. When you had given him a look, he was quick to explain his idea. Obviously, you had to be affectionate towards each other in front of the team and especially Aaron, but not so much that it qualified as PDA.

The smart doctor had proposed small touches like lingering fingers, a hand on a shoulder (you pointed out you did this with him quite often and he argued it would only make more sense to keep doing it), hair ruffling (again you told him you’ve done this to him and he admitted he liked getting his hair played a certain way), and hand squeezes.

You waited for the shock on Spencer’s face when you wondered out loud if it was effective for you to “sneak” into his hotel room during a case and have a member of the team see you going into his room so they could relay what they saw to the others; instead, you were met with an intuitive hum of agreement.

By the time you’d gotten done with planning, it was ten minutes past midnight and Spencer was yawning every few minutes. And while his apartment was only about ten blocks from yours, you offered for him to stay the night with the promise to stop at his place before work for him to get a change of clothes. He accepted and both of you had fallen asleep in the living room while the credits of the movie played in the background.

In the morning, you came to the realization that the wine you had drank had caused you to oversleep, and keeping Spencer up past midnight had also caused him to wake up about half an hour later than usual. You slapped him awake with a pillow before rushing to get ready.

Spencer had been half asleep as he got in your car but after a near-death experience with a semi, he had woken up and clutched his seatbelt all the way to work. As you entered the building, you were rolling your eyes as he mumbled how you were more of a reckless driver than Derek–impossible–and how he feared for his life whenever you were in the driver’s seat.

As soon as you pushed through the glass doors, Emily noticed something different. You placed your stuff on your desk, plopping down on your chair when she sits on your desk, glancing between you and Spencer, eyebrows raised.

“Reid, are you wearing the same sweater from yesterday?” she questioned, and your ears perked up at her words.

Your eyes flicker to Spencer’s outfit. With your lateness, you weren’t able to stop at Spencer’s place and he had assured you he could change into something from his go bag. He was in the midst of picking up the duffel when Emily commented on his fashion sense. You gave him a look to play along but he was looking down at his outfit to notice.

He tilted his head, nodding. “Yeah, we woke up late this morning.”

You’ve never seen Emily’s head turn so fast–you were worried she had accidentally snapped her own neck. The brunette smirked at you before turning back to Spencer. “We?”

Spencer looked up, eyes finally meeting yours. His eyes flickered with recognition and took the opportunity to start your idea. His slight blush was the cherry on top. “What?”

Emily’s smirk grew, and she looked like a cat that swallowed a canary. She turned to you, giving you the look she’d make when a guy would flirt with you during a girl’s night out. “So … what’d you do last night?”

You couldn’t help but grin at her nosiness. “Work. Long, hard work.”

“Yeah, I bet.” she chuckled, side-eyeing Spencer. “The work definitely looks hard when you’re doing it.”

The water you sipped trickled out of your mouth at the innuendo, and you furiously wiped your chin. Emily cackled at her own joke, drawing JJ’s attention from nearby. You try to ignore her, gently pushing her off your desk, mumbling about having to do work, but it only makes her gasp for breath.

JJ sauntered over to your desk, curious at whatever made Emily cackle like the green witch from the Kansas movie. “What’s going on here?”

Emily leans over to whisper in her ear before pointing at Spencer who had taken his go-bag along with him to the bathroom. JJ adopts Emily’s smirk, sharing a look with the brunette before glancing between you and the men’s bathroom.

The blonde pulls up a chair next to yours, the girls surrounding your desks. JJ leans in close, grinning mad wildly at you. “I thought you liked Hotch, not Spence.”

You rolled your eyes, pretending to be annoyed by the whole thing while you smiled internally. “I don’t like either of them, beyond friends. … Stop looking at me like that!”

“Clearly you like Reid more than that if you guys spent the night together.” Emily wiggled her brows, earning another chuckle from JJ. She yelped at the small smack you gave her on the arm.

“We didn’t spend the night together.” you hissed, keeping your voice low. How you would’ve loved to show Rossi your performance right now after he commented you were a terrible liar. “We were doing paperwork together and we fell asleep because it was late and so we woke up late.”

The girls gave each other a look, nodding at you, clearly not believing the semi-lie you told. (Did it count as a lie if you told them the half-truth but in a way that was unconvincing?)

“Uh-huh.”

“Of course. It makes perfect sense.”

“Yeah, especially if you guys were up late. It’s only reasonable that he stayed the night.”

“Mm-hm. You guys were probably so tired you didn’t do anything before sleeping.”

The sarcasm was leaking from their voices, practically dripping on the floor. You didn’t know how to answer their cryptic responses, covering your smile with a hand. You couldn’t help the small laugh that escaped your lips. Despite Aaron’s harsh rejection not even twelve hours ago, you were feeling better.

Thankfully, you were saved from coming up with a reply when Penelope came in the room with a case file in her hands, gesturing towards the briefing room. Unfortunately, JJ and Emily’s amusement was so obvious, Penelope was able to pick up on the brewing gossip from just the look on their smug faces.

You passed her on the way up the stairs, giving her a small smile as she stayed back to get the information from JJ and Emily. You rolled your eyes when you heard the technical analysis gasp, walking to the briefing room faster.

While you temporarily escaped Penelope’s wave of questions upon entering the briefing room, you were met with the presence of the man your bones–and pussy–ached for. You avoided looking in his general direction as you sat next to Derek.

He turned to you as the girls entered the room, smiling. “Damn Mama, you look tired. What’d you do last night?”

And as if on cue, Spencer sat down in the empty chair on the other side of you, causing Emily to burst out laughing. The guys turned to look at her, confused by her reaction to Spencer’s timed action. She waved away their confusion, hiding behind her iPad, pretending to study the case all the while her shoulders shook from silent laughter.

Penelope had her eyes set on you and Spencer, giving you a look that read she wanted all the details directly from you. Saving you from having to explain Emily’s reaction, Penelope started the briefing, pulling everyone’s attention from you and Spencer to the serial killer running around Los Angeles.

It was easy to ignore Aaron’s stares through the briefing, too focused on the case details to give him attention but that couldn’t be said on the plane, especially when he walked up behind you on the steps. Your eyes met his and it felt like your nerves told your brain it was a fight or flight situation, causing you to internally panic.

You more or so sprinted up steps and into the plane, inadvertently sitting down next to the man half your coworkers suspected you were hooking up with. While it wasn’t unusual for you to sit next to anyone on the team, your normal spot had been right beside Aaron, the window seat while he took up the aisle seat. So accidentally sitting next to Spencer had caused Emily and JJ to share a glance with each other.

After Aaron had given the team details on what they were supposed to do–thankfully he had partnered you up with Rossi instead of himself–your phone buzzed relentlessly as Penelope texted you asking for details about your new paramour. Said paramour was peeking over your shoulder to read the numerous Penelope had sent.

After a second of them being left unanswered, she called you, her name popping up on your phone. You playfully glared at Emily and JJ before getting up and answering the call.

“Yes, baby girl?” you cooed, pushing the curtains aside to get a cup of coffee. “What can I help you with?”

“You and Reid?!” her voice was so loud you flinched as it hit your eardrum. “I thought you liked Hotch!”

“I don’t like either of them.” you sighed, heart pounding at the lie. Even just hearing his name had caused your body to tense, and you were sure there was a patch of wetness on your underwear. “And Spence and I are just friends.”

“JJ told me you guys spent the night together,” she replied, and you could practically hear her brain cogs working overtime. “As in doing intimate, not-suitable-for-work stuff.”

“No funny business, I swear,” you mutter, hissing when you spill coffee on yourself.

“Please don’t lie to me,” begged Penelope. “You can tell me anything, you know that. And you don’t have to be ashamed that you like Spencer, he’s cute in a nerdy way! You guys would make a great couple–”

Spencer pushed through the curtains, and it was as if Penelope sensed him through the phone because she went silent. Boy genius reached over you to grab a plastic cup from the counter, pouring his own coffee.

“Is that Garcia?” he asked, motioning to the phone. You nodded, smiling at the nearly inaudible hitch of Penelope’s breath. He chuckled, moving a tad closer to the speaker. “Hi, Garcia.”

Before she could reply, you intervened. “Bye Pen.”

You hung up, sighing. Taking a sip of coffee, you leaned against the small counter. “Not gonna lie, I didn’t think our plan would progress so fast. Do you think it makes it look less believable?”

“I don’t think so. If anything, it just made it more so,” said Spencer, mirroring your actions. “It’s very realistic friends would hook up when the situation pushes them to like working late nights, watching movies, or going to chess tournaments together.”

Giving him a blank look, you slurped your coffee rather loudly.

He cleared his throat, feeling awkward. “Anyways, the only thing people may not believe is that I was able to … get you.”

“That’s insane. Why don’t you think you could pull me?”

Spencer blushed, rubbing the back of his neck. “It’s just that I’m me and you’re … you. It’s kind of obvious you’re out of my league. I mean you’re very pretty and you could get any guy and honestly, I find it hard to believe Hotch would turn you down–”

You grinned, interrupting his rambling. “Aww, Spence, you’re so sweet. But you underestimate yourself. You’re very cute and if I wasn’t attracted to men twenty years older than me, then I would’ve gone for you.”

“Have you ever wondered if your attraction to much older men is caused by your daddy issues?” he blurted.

The plane lurched to the side, bringing Spencer to pin you against the counter, a hand placed on the counter to keep himself from falling right into you as the plane stabilized. Fortunately, Spencer’s coffee had spilled on the floor instead of either of you. Unfortunately (or fortunately), Aaron had chosen that moment to walk into your little space.

You and Spencer freeze in place as your boss–and the object of your desires–catches you in a position that would’ve had Penelope screaming from excitement. Spencer's free hand was on the counter, trapping you in between. His torso touched yours, your breast pressing up against his chest and your right hand was on his shoulder to stop him from crushing you during the turbulence.

Aaron’s eyes narrowed at the contact and the lack of space between you and Spencer. Both of you immediately sprung into action, Spencer taking a step back while you slid to your left, trying to put more space between you both.

While you were internally celebrating Aaron’s almost-jealous expression, you were more embarrassed at what he must be thinking. You didn’t plan to be so outward with Spencer, after all, you both agreed on only subtle touches, not pressed up against each other in a public space.

“Are you two alright?” Aaron questioned, eyes darting between you and Spencer.

You didn’t want to be delusional and lie to yourself but the vein on Aaron’s neck was bulging, a thing that only happened when he felt stressed or angry. You must’ve smiled subconsciously because he stared at you, brows furrowed.

“Yeah, the turbulence just caught us by surprise,” you reply, motioning to the coffee-stained floor. You stepped around him, shoulder brushing up against his arm. The curtains parted and you backed out. “I’m gonna head back.”

You don’t miss the way his eyes linger as you walk back.

By the time you head back to the hotel, you’re grumpy and sticky from sweat. Throughout the day, everyone has heard you moan and groan about the heat. By now, the team has figured out you’d rather freeze to death than heat.

The AC at the police station could only do so much when the temperature outside was over one hundred degrees. Rossi fanning you while you checked out the crime scene hadn’t helped and when you got back to the station, you begged Aaron to let you stay inside, breaking that awkward tension between the both of you through your hatred of heat.

Not that the tension hadn’t grown whenever Spencer and you were in the same room. Aaron would send him out to look at the body or interview close friends but as soon as he came back to the station, Aaron would find some excuse to send him back out, not giving you two the opportunity to work the plan. Not that you cared that much, you were too busy melting.

When everyone got to the hotel, Aaron held out four keys, and the team groaned. You’d have to share.

JJ snatched a key from Aaron’s hand. “Me and Em will share.”

“I’m not sharing a room with Reid, again,” Derek announced, crossing his arms. A confused Spencer tilted his head at him, a little hurt at the comment.

JJ smiled, handing Spencer a key. “Spencer can share with his friend.”

You glared at JJ, and she threw you another smug smile. Emily snorted, faking a cough when Rossi turned to look at her. Turning to Spencer, you nodded. “Yeah, we can share.”

“Actually,” objected Aaron, eyes never leaving you. “It’s Reid’s turn to have a room to himself.”

Derek looked at him, confused. “No, it isn’t. He had a room to himself in Alaska, it’s my turn actually–”

“Morgan, you can share with Rossi,” Aaron said with finality, giving him a key. He looked at you once again. “I’ll share a room with you.”

You knew the plan had worked but you were too exhausted and sticky to be happy about it. Not that you hadn’t wanted to share a room with him again, but all you could think about was taking a cold shower and hopefully freezing your entire body to the point where you stay cold all throughout the case.

The team dispersed. Aaron and your room was on the third floor while the rest stayed on the first. He carried your duffel bag, and you didn’t bother fighting him like you usually had. The elevator ride up was awkward and you wished he could make up his mind on whether he wanted you or not.

As soon as he unlocked the door, you rushed into the bathroom and turned on the shower, setting the temperature to cold. You snatched your bag from his shoulder and ran back to the bathroom, peeling off your work clothes. A moan slips out as the cold water hits your skin, and for the entirety of the shower, you forget about the man behind the door.

Exiting the shower, you notice you haven't shut the bathroom door completely. The tiny crack allowed you to see Aaron sitting at the table, staring at the file in front of him. If you could see him, he could probably see you.

This is fucking crazy.

Maybe it was a breeze from the vent or maybe you mastered some form of telekinesis but the door cracked open further, about four inches wide now. You don’t make a move to close it.

Heart pounding, you dry yourself, turning away from the door as you bend over to dry your legs. The vent was the only noise you hear as you do so. You’re about to cave and shut the door but you feel eyes on you as you stand up straight.

You don’t turn around. Confidence grows as you take your time drying your hair with the towel, sometimes running a hand through it to separate the wet and semi-dry strands. The reality of the situation finally dawns on you when you squeeze the remaining water out of your hair.

Growing wet at the thought of Aaron watching you, nakedly drying yourself, you can’t help but give him a small peek at what he was missing. You turn around, enough so he could see a glimpse of your pussy. No, you don’t look in his direction, but you can see him staring from your peripherals.

The door had cracked open further since you last saw it. There was no doubt he saw every inch of your backside as you hadn’t wrapped the towel around you once.

You let your hands squeeze your breasts once before bending down to grab a t-shirt from your go bag. It’s oversize, the hem falling just below your ass. Putting a pair of red panties on, you remember how much Aaron likes the color.

Once you’re done, you zipped up your bag and looked in the mirror. It’s obvious how free your breasts are under the shirt, your nipples peeking from the thin material. Reading the words on the shirt, you realize it was one of Spencer’s. You remember stealing it from his duffel after swimming into the lake to save an unsub.

Your lips twitched into a smirk. Opening the door, you were met with Aaron’s unrelenting stare, eyes drifting up and down your body. Not giving him the satisfaction, you ignore him, dropping your bag on your bed.

Wait.

Looking around the room, you notice just one bed.

Shit.

In your distracted haze about the one-bed problem, you failed to notice Aaron moving. A hand gripped your waist tightly, pulling you back towards a hard chest. You freeze, glancing behind you to see a heated Aaron. His lips graze your ear.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing, sweetheart?”

[baguettesandbows]

2

tw! sa undertones

P3

If you thought you felt crazy thinking that Jason was alive before, you felt ten times crazier in Arkham.

The place wasn’t built for crazy people, it was built to keep them inside. Away from the high end galas and family members who were ashamed of them. A place where Batman could put villains that were too much trouble for the GCPD.

You fit into those catagories perfectly.

Dick wasn’t lying, Bruce had gotten you the suite. The suite in Arkham. You had assumed your room might be better than the ones the Joker would’ve had. Or any other villain that’s escaped from here.

Escaped. Maybe that’s why Bruce put you in a suite.

Through unpacking, they didn’t slow you to bring in any of Jason’s items. His sweatshirt, his favorite books, even the paper band from your first concert together.

Because it would trigger your attacks.

You had punched the guards nose as they carried you out from holding.

What you had to give to Arkham, was they kept to a schedule. The point of it seemed to make everyone more crazy. Therapy was interrogating, Lunch was slop, and visiting hours… was just Dick.

You’re least favorite time of Arkham was Rec. They’d put you and the other high class young women in the same room, and expected no fights to happen. Sometimes, they’d mix the genders so there would be fights.

You learned quickly to keep to yourself and not tell anyone anything. You could practically hear Jason saying “Snitches don’t get stitches. They go missin’ in Gotham.”

Jason. Jason Todd. The boy who called you birdie. Your first everything. His red tank tops and his boyish smirk, his arm covered in friendship bracelets you’d make while he was on patrol-

“Reader?”

You look up from the table and avoid looking at the couple practically shagging in the corner, to focus on the man with a clipboard, looking around the room.

You were new, but he seemed newer.

“Here.” You mumble, getting up and walking past a small group of men who eye you in your sweatsuit.

You meet the man at the gate locking in the rec room, and meet his gaze blankly.

“You’re Reader? Right, I’m Jefferson, the new assistant to Doctor Jane.” The man says softly, yet clearly trying to be.. intimidating? “I’m taking over her clients while she’s on break after the.. incident.”

The incident. A woman had snuck a metal pipe into her meeting last week.

“Right.”

Jefferson clears his throat and smiles warmly at you, an expression not hardened yet by Arkham. “Follow me, please.”

Jefferson met with you two times a week. The first weeks were rough, since you had expected Jefferson to be the same as everyone else. To instantly deny your truth.

But he listened. He listened to your ideas, and your proof. You think he would’ve even looked at your evidence, if you were allowed to bring it in.

Sometimes, although it wasn’t allowed, he’d bring you a coffee. One from a diner on his way to Arkham.

You had questioned another woman in your cell block about if Jefferson bought everyone coffee on tuesdays. That question earned you a right hook, due to being a favorite.

You were laying in your room, staring at the top of your bed frame, fidgeting with your hands. Every night, you’d memorize Jason’s face. Especially when you weren’t allowed to have pictures of him here, you couldn’t forget his features.

You didn’t want to forget his face, in case he walked right by you.

With as much money Arkham gets from supporters and investors, the walls were paper thin. You could hear the rustling of your next door neighbor, as her secret escapades with one of the guards weren’t secret to you.

Below, you could hear pounding, most likely one of the women who was given a punching bad to ease her anger.

Your body trembled from the cold, but it wasn’t just from Arkhams shivering tempature. You had gotten used to Jason sneaking in, warming you up after his patrol. His ego boosting from his smirk as he told you about the goons he had taken down during the night.

He was so proud to be Robin. More people should’ve been proud of him for it.

You don’t realize your sobbing until the thumping next door stops, and your use of their white noise draws you out of it.

What, did your crying turn them off?

You hear rustling, before the guard walks out of her cell and up to yours. Unlocking the door, she peers in at you.

“You miss your dose of somethin’?”

You furrow your eyebrows. You knew most patients here took doses of things, but naively you assumed it was for their mental illnesses.

“For what?”

“For sleepin’. Almost everyone here gets some.” The guard says. “Leaves us less to deal with at night.”

At least she was honest.

You think for a moment, or not at all, before replying.

“Yeah. I take those.”

The pills make time in Arkham fly by.

You realize it’s why most of the patients take then. If you didn’t look at Jeffersons calendar every meeting, you’d understand why most of these people go crazy.

Jason would knee you in the vagina if he knew what you were doing. But he’s understand. Atleast, that’s what you tell yourself.

You’ve noticed one thing about Arkham, the prosedures.

Shock therapy. You wouldnt beleive it still existed, if you hadn’t seen the marks on the women at your lunch table. You had realized they hadn’t done it to you, because Dick or Bruce must be too involved with your care. Plus, Bruce could figure out anything that happened to you, as long as he was interested.

You hope that being his sons girlfriend will be enough for him to care about you for as long as your in here.

Jefferson’s office smelled good. Different than usual. You realized why when you saw a candle on his desk.

“Reader, come on in.” Jefferson says from his desk, scrubbing on his papers. “Sorry for the mess, some of the patients here have no knowledge for manners.”

He looked at you and gestures for you to sit in the chair across his desk like usual. You did as he said, and he seemed to always relax at your obedience.

“I heard we had a setback earlier this week.” Jefferson starts. “Randy told me she heard you talking to..” He checks his papers. “Jason, in your room.”

“I wasn’t talking to him.” You mutter. “I was talking about him. To myself.”

Jefferson clears his throat and nods. “Right. Well, we do know that a main reason your here is for your.. obsession to this case.”

He slides over a cup of coffee for you, which you take, tkaing a sip.

“Reader, you know that I am supportive of your ideas about this Jason. Regardless, any way out of Arkham is proving the fact that you aren’t, focused on what happened to him.”

Jefferson gets up from his desk and walks around it, sitting on the edge and looking down at you as you sip your coffee.

His lips twitch. “Good, right?” He says quietly, watching you. You nod, and he starts. “I don’t think you should be here. You aren’t like these other women. They have tarnished themselves. But you..” He draws off, reaching out to gently take the coffee from you.

Your lips were practically still on the container as he pulls it back to himself, making you look up at him in confusion. He brings the cup to his lips and takes a sip. He makes a noise as the coffee hits his tongue before looking at you. “I’m the only one that listens to you in here.” He says quietly. “I think you know that. And if what your saying is true, I want you to be able to get out of here and prove everyone wrong.”

He leans in, meeting your gaze. “I can sign you off and have you out of here after evaluation, but after all those treats i’ve given you, I think I deserve some of my own. Don’t you?”

[foldingfittedsheets]

One of my earlier jobs in life was at a little pizza place. I worked there when it was first starting up. It’s the only job I’ve ever been fired from.

Anyway! For this story to make sense I’ve first got to set the stage. This pizza place started out as the Wild West of management but one of the original investors was super committed to work programs through the prison. We hired a ton of ex convicts and they were all, to a one, super hyped on Christianity. Like born again for the sole purpose of lauding Christ with their every breath.

I was raised without any religion which I liked very well. Throughout my life people have tried to inform me about their religion and I end up deeply resenting it. I’m good. I’m vibing. I’m staying in my lane. I’ve also had more than enough microaggressions for being queer that I get skittish around people who are especially devout.

I hadn’t been working there long but I’d definitely noticed the Jesus bug had gone around, I tried to steer clear of the topic for my own safety as much as possible.

The day our story takes place, I was folding boxes. Anyone whose ever worked pizza can attest, there’s so much box folding. It’s something that happens at every lull, the pizza machine demands box folding on a grand and epic scale.

On my right folding his stack of boxes was a guy wider than he was tall, made of pure muscle, Corey. He was newer on staff, and due to a stutter he didn’t talk much. All I knew about him was that he got hired through the rehabilitation program and had done time.

On my left folding was a tall middle-aged woman who loved to yell at me, Cindy. She and I rubbed each other the wrong way and had nothing in common, leading to a tense working relationship.

We folded boxes in silence. This was really my best case scenario as a quiet Cindy was a Cindy not riding my ass, and Corey intimidated me.

But the weight of the silence grew too much for Cindy, who finally said, “I really want to go to bible school.”

I folded a box. I had less than no idea what bible school even was and I didn’t want to get sucked into a religious topic.

On my right Corey said, “W-why, Cindy?”

“Well, cause I believe what’s in the Bible, but I just don’t know it all.”

He nodded sagely to this.

Cindy continued, “And every time I sit down to read the Bible I get real sleepy. And I know it’s the devil.”

It’s so hard to convey her tone in written format. It was delivered with the emphasis and exasperation of an inevitable inconvenience. Like, I just know it’s the squirrels eating the bird seed.

I froze in place at this pronouncement. My only exposure to Lucifer was Neil Gaiman’s Sandman comics and I was trying to mentally twist into a frame of mind where The Morningstar cared enough about this one middle aged lady expanding her knowledge of the Bible that he followed her around cursing her with sleepiness when she picked it up.

I think I expected Corey to say, “Well that’s silly,” or something to acknowledge what a bizarre thing Cindy had just said.

Instead he said, “Yeah!” In a tone of complete agreement.

I didn’t look up. I tried to keep my face neutral at this development.

But something must have shown. Corey said, “You don’t believe in God?”

I shrugged casually and said, “If I did I wouldn’t talk about it at work.”

“C-cause it’s t-true. If y-you t-ry to r-read the B-bible on unsanctif-fied gr-round the d-devil m-makes you s-sleepy!”

I made a noncommittal sound and fled into the back room.

Over the next week it drove me crazy though. The logic of it wouldn’t leave me alone so finally one day when it was just Corey and I in front, and the restaurant was empty, I said, “Hey man, I have a question.”

He shrugged and listened.

“I really don’t mean this with any disrespect, I just genuinely want to know about the logistics-“

“J-ust ask.”

“Okay, so if Cindy gets tired when she reads any book, is it only the devil making her tired when it’s the Bible?”

His face went purple with fury and he yelled, “F-fuck you!” at my retreating back as I fled once more into the back room.

It will forever remain a mystery.

[morganbritton132]

I love the newer teachers not knowing who Eddie is and visiting Steve at his house and wondering how they can afford such a nice house. I can imagine that they live in a house way above a teachers salary, much less a teacher with presumably, a lot of medical bills. They see gold records hanging on the walls and all of Eddie’s awards on a bookshelf and they are trying to connect the dots to who Eddie is.

David’s first impression of Steve is, admittedly, not great.

He was hired as a long-term substitute halfway through the school year and technically, Mr. Harrington was the only teacher on their floor not to introduce himself to him. They’re supposed to cover the eighth grade lunch period together, but Steve hasn’t shown up once since David was started three days ago.

Instead, the principal covered for him.

Cindy McCullen, the gossipy history teacher across the hall from him, says that it’s because of favoritism. She says that Principal Moreno always lets her favorites run rampant around the school and lets them do whatever they want, especially if they’re tenured. Steve Harrington is the most egregious example of blatant favoritism.

David starts to form an opinion about Mr. Harrington in his mind that only gets worse with every story he hears from Cindy. So, it’s a bit of a shock when Steve shows up for lunch duty the next day with a whole ass service dog.

He feels like an asshole.

Especially because Steve is so apologetic about missing the last three days and leaving David to ‘the wolves’ during his first week, “Is this your first teaching job? I’ve heard from the kids that you’re doing great!”  

He makes a conscious effort after that to get to know Steve and to stop letting other people form his opinions for him. Though, admittedly. He kinda fucks that up too.

The first time David meets Eddie, he thinks that he’s Steve’s brother.

It’s not that Steve doesn’t talk about his life outside of work. It’s just that he doesn’t go into a lot a detail. David knows that he’s married to a man, that he’s from Indiana originally, and he might have a kid. Maybe? A girl name Erica that tells him what a brony is and how they ruin everything.

Hell, David’s not even entirely sure he knows what Ozzy is in service of. Steve just said that he bumped his head one too many times and now he has a dog so his husband stops worrying so much.

The only surefire thing that David knows is that Steve has a brother that’s a bit of a dork. He has great hair and is really smart, but lacks tact. Steve loves him. You can tell by the way that he talks about the guy.

So one day, David is in the teacher’s lounge heating up a cup of Easy Mac while Steve is sitting with his head down at one of the tables. He’s about to suggest that Steve go home and sleep off whatever cold he has when a guy with long hair and a leather jacket sticks his head in the room and declares, “You look like shit.”

Steve doesn’t even lift his head when he flips him off which is – whoa, not something that David would expect from Mr. Harrington. He makes himself busy with stirring his mac and cheese while the two bicker with each other which is, admittedly, childish.

Leather Jacket’s main argument for why Steve has to listen to him and go home is because he’s older. Steve croaks out that that is bullshit and Leather Jacket threatens to call their Uncle Wayne if Steve doesn’t listen. He eventually agrees.

Before they leave, Leather Jacket sticks his hand out to David and introduces himself as the cooler Mr. Harrington (that gets a laugh out of Steve).

So, color him shocked when Steve invites their event committee over to his house.

David hasn’t even fully gotten over how nice of a neighborhood Steve lives in on a teacher and retiree’s salary when Leather Jacket gets introduced as Eddie, the husband Steve has mentioned. Then he just casually mentions a red carpet like, what?

And the craziest part is that he’s asked about his husband before!

Steve mentioned once that his husband was out of town and when David asked what he did for work, Steve said that he was retired. He said that his husband can play guitar and that one of their friends (James Hetfield) needed a last minute guitarist for some kind of fair (Coachella) so Eddie went to help out.

He definitely worded it like playing guitar was just a hobby that his husband has, not like. Not like platinum records lining the hallway to their bathroom or the picture of Steve and Eddie in Vegas with KISS stuck to the fridge. He swears the note on the dry erase board by the garage entrance signed ‘Dave’ is in Dave Grohl’s handwriting.

There’s an Grammy on the bookshelf by the fireplace.

Who the hell is Steve Harrington?

Better question: Who the hell is Eddie Munson?

Kathy laughs the entire drive to her house and she is still laughing when he drops her off. The only thing she says that could even be considered an answer is, “I think he’s on Tiktok. Start there.” 

[arysbruv]

Are we still friends?

You were a relatively newer student. You normally kept to yourself but you always dreamt of being friends with the main trio, especially with the infamous Suguru Geto. Yet, he always seemed to hate you, even when you openly showed you felt the opposite.

pairings: suguru geto x f!reader

warnings and whatnots: enemies to lovers, mean!geto, reader gets hurt (mentally). modern-ish au. Not based on canon. cliffhanger (will probably become a series)

chapter 1: [currently reading] chapter 2: can we be friends? chapter 3: sorry, not sorry chapter 4: green looks good on you. chapter 5: runaway chapter 6: burn.

You walk inside the loud classroom, for a class that’s only filled with three students, it was unusually loud, mostly because of the inhabitants of the classroom.

You quietly take a seat next to Shoko, who smiles at you nicely. You smile back. She continues on talking to Gojo and Geto. You keep to yourself. Although they claimed to be your friends, you couldn’t help but feel isolated from them. When they hung out, they always ‘forgot’ to invite you. When they talk, they never include you in their conversations. Thus, you’ve stopped trying and became an idle listener.

You start to zone out, your eyes wandering around until they finally land on a familiar and beautiful specimen of a man.

Suguru Geto.

You managed to steal a few glances before his cold gaze finally meets yours. He gives you a glare, narrowing his eyes at you. You quickly look away, flushed and embarrassed.

Shoko and Satoru laugh as they notice this. As per usual, they make light of it and start accusing you of liking Suguru and how you would be good for each other.

“Don’t be ridiculous! She’s not my type!” He says, his voice laced with annoyance and disgust.

You purse your lips, hearing those words drawl out of his mouth.

Satoru and Shoko weren’t entirely wrong. You did, stupidly have a crush on him. It was obvious from your first day that you were head over heels for the long-haired man. You saw him and you immediately felt a rush of emotions hit you. You could still remember it to this day. You could remember how he quickly and painfully rejected you.

~

You shook slightly as you entered the classroom, giving an awkward smile to the three people in the class. You meet the gaze of one of the boys there. He looked at you curiously, giving you a light smile, though his eyes didn’t show any emotion. You felt a rush of heat to your face as emotions came barrelling down on you. You quickly introduced yourself before learning the names of everyone there. Naturally, you plopped yourself down next to the boy who made you get butterflies in your stomach.

For the next few days, you walked with him as you became closer with the other members of your class. They all talked and laughed with you, accepting you into their friend group. Yet, he never talked. You tried to get him to talk. You did everything! Giving him chocolates, making dumb jokes, asking him for help, walking back with him, accompanying him, helping him but it never worked!

It was lunchtime.

You scanned the area for him, and you saw him sitting alone near the pond. You psych yourself up before walking towards him.

“Boo!” You say, teasingly as you sat down next to him. He didn’t react, keeping quiet as he looked at you oddly. You smiled as he didn’t react to you. You open your bento and look into his.

“So… Suguru, y’know the exams coming up so I was wondering if you’d like to help me study! Maybe tonight or tomorrow night, I’m not picky!” You say, happily taking a bite of your food. He looks at you, his eyes empty.

“Sorry, I’m busy.” He says coldly.

“Oh, when are you free then?” You ask, smiling at him. His eyes look darker today. Was he on edge?

“I’d rather study with you then Shoko or Gojo!” You say, laughing a little.

He doesn’t respond to your quip. You look at him oddly. Even if he didn’t respond, he’d normally chuckle a bit. Yet, here he was, staring blankly into the distance being as silent as a rock! You’d think you’d have a better time talking to a brick wall than him!

“Hey, you okay?” You ask, concern lacing your words

You weren’t sure what was happening but something felt off. You were worried about him. For the last few days, your crush on him had expanded and taken over you. It wasn’t that obvious but obvious enough with all the attention and care you gave him.

“Yeah. M’fine.” He says coldly.

You eyebrows furrow in confusion and concern. You put down your food, looking at him. You keep quiet.

“You sure?”

He doesn’t respond, causing you to purse your lips and think. A small smile spreads on you face.

“I know what will cheer you up!” You declare loudly. You pull something out of you pocket. “Here! These are some of your favourite chocolates right?!” You ask, showing them to him. He doesn’t respond.

“Come on, I know they’re probably a bit warm but like-”

“Would you shut up?” He randomly says, finally looking at you. His face annoyed. “You’re so goddamn annoying. Can’t you see I don’t like you back? So stop trying to be all nice with me just so you can get with me alright? You’re so insufferable.”

You swore your heart broke the day he said that. You looked away, embarrassment filling you and tears threatening to stream down. The sound of Shoko and Gojo arriving reached your ears, and you hear Geto greeting them with the softness that you never got.

How idiotic.

Without a word, you stood up and left. They were confused, but they let you be. Why would they need you? After that day, your friendship was never the same with them anymore. They were nice with you, but it was hard to talk to them. You wished all of it never happened and that you were still friends with them. Yet, you can’t change the past.

Worst part was, you still liked him. Even through everything he said, you still held on to your feelings for him. You tried to let go but it never worked. The best course of action is just to pretend you don’t.

~

Shoko 🚬: Hey, we’re going out to the cafe around the corner to study. You want in?

Your eyes squint at the text, trying to confirm it’s authenticity. You were surprised. It had been a while since they invited you to anything. You weren’t even sure if you wanted to go or not. You knew he would be there and it would be awkward but you longed to befriend them all again. You can’t just let this one experience ruin it for you.

y/n : Sure! I’ll meet you all there.

You stood at the entrance of the cafe nervously, peering inside. You could see the three of them laughing and smiling together. Studying? It didn’t really look like it. Your grip on your book bag tighten. Were you really doing this?

You suck in a breath, pushing the door open and hearing the bell ring. You scan the surrounding. Shoko immediately calls out to you, waving you over. You smile at her. She had always been the nicest to you.

“hi.” You say nervously, putting your bag down next to Shoko, paying no mind to Suguru who was staring at you.

You ordered a coffee before taking out your books.

“Woah, are you actually studying?” Asks Satoru. You look at him confused. “Crazy, I’m just using this as an excuse to hang out!” He says, laughing loudly. You smile at him and start giggling.

You missed this.

Time went by fast, and before you know it, it was dark outside. You all walked together in a group back to the dorms, laughing and smiling amongst yourselves. It had been ages since you’ve done it. He still hadn’t talked to you much. He never talked to you directly, nor did you to him. It was alright, you didn’t mind. You needed to get over him some way.

As you enter your dorm, and wave goodbye to the others, you fail to notice how his gaze clung onto you.

Geto stares at the closed door in front of him, a million thoughts racing through his head. He had a disdain for you, practically hated you, so why did he ask Shoko if she wanted to invite you to the hang out? Why did he ask? Why did he genuinely enjoy that hang out?

He never liked you. Not in a romantic sense, but he had to admit you were pretty nice as a friend. He missed the time when you were his friend, and one of his biggest regret is that he ruined it on a whim due to a bad day.

He wanted to rekindle the friendship.

Sure, he still hated, no, detested the way you would cling onto him and coddle him, but he couldn’t help but admit he liked seeing you squabble with Shoko. Plus, Shoko needed another girl in the group.

He didn’t really know what to do. On one hand, he couldn’t help but feel annoyed when he sees you near him but at the same time, he didn’t want to be cruel to his friends who wanted to include her in stuff. He could see it in Shoko’s face and hear it in her words that she missed you.

He sighs, unsure of what to do.

He left with a defeated look on his face as he looked down at his phone, typing something out.

Suguru💔: You free tomorrow?

Part 2:

[altis-of-olympia]

A conversation about King Zeus and Queen Hera's relationship. And a narrative on why we can't read the mythos and perceive them as truth.

Come with me on a bit of a journey.

Throughout modern media and historical accounts, we see that King Zeus and Queen Hera have a marriage that can only be described as tumultuous. King Zeus, a known cheater and liar, married to Queen Hera, his sister, and the Goddess of Marriage and Fidelity. Women prayed to Queen Hera to be blessed with a Marriage unlike Her own - one of faith, one of trust. One of reciprocity.

King Zeus is depicted in mythos as being disrespectful of His Wife. In Homer's Iliad, we see several instances in which Queen Hera attempts to revolt against His word, and very quickly, She is punished or shot down. King Zeus ruled over Her with an Iron Fist, as was expected of the Patriarch of the Ancient Greek Household. Especially Kings.

Not acknowledging this fact would be negligent. The Ancient Greek Household had a very particular rule of order - especially amongst royalty. A King ruled over all, his Wife was to listen, and the children were to fall in line. This was the standard for the time.

However, times have changed. With this change, the perception of their relationship must change. In the modern era, the relationship between man and woman looks much different. At least, the ideal looks different.

The newer generation values a relationship where both parties, regardless of sex or gender, are equals. There is no distinct breadwinner, there is no distinct person who "wears the pants" unless otherwise communicated. And King Zeus and Queen Hera reflect this. I have spent plenty of time with the two of them as of late, and they are nothing like the myths depict. King Zeus speaks highly of His Wife. And the few conversations I've had with Queen Hera, She sings His praises, just as He does for her.

Now, in terms of mythology itself...

Here is how I break it down.

Let us say, for the sake of examples, you have a governing document written 400 years ago. It was written based on the ideals of the people 400 years ago, what they needed, wanted, and what they thought was best. And they never changed them. Sure, the document has been translated time and time again as the language becomes more ancient, but other than this, they don't touch it.

Now, 400 years later, in a developed society with new ideals and new ideologies based on that of the old, you have two options. You can either take the document as it is, literally with zero nuance. Or, you can look at it as a breathing document and shape it to fit the ideals of the new society you live in.

This is how people tend to look at mythology. Mythic Literalists, and Mythic Revisionists, as I'll call it. Mythic Literalists will take a work of mythology and look at it as it was written. King Zeus betrayed Queen Hera time and time again, and Queen Hera made the women He slept with face Her wrath rather than confronting King Zeus Herself. A Mythic Revivalist will take this and say that, yes, King Zeus did betray Queen Hera, and She did make other women face Her wrath. What is the allegory behind this? What is the message?

Taking Mythology at face value is what turns people against certain Gods and leads to villainization. The amount of people who turn their heads away from King Zeus due to the stigma that He's a horrible God who rules with an Iron First is astounding. They victimize other Gods like Queen Persephone and may claim She is unhappy as Queen of the Underworld. This is definitively false - both of these narratives. Which is why Mythic Revision is important to understanding the Gods in our modern day.

May I leave you with a bit of homework, so to speak. What is your favorite myth, how did you view it before, and how would you view it after the modern application of it? I look forward to hearing your points of view.

[gracieheartspedro]

Crave

Part 3 of "How Long"

pairing: f!reader x brother-in-law!joel miller

find part 1 and 2 here!

dedication: @jenispunk <3 I love you sm jen. thank you for always supporting my writing and being the best wife a girl could ever dream of. you make my heart so happy. thank you for helping me edit and being the first to read this and encouraging me no matter what! love you love you love you!!!

description: a weekend escape with joel and sarah, kinda. the bed situation is a little confusing. luckily you and joel make it work. when sarah's not around, of course.

word count: 5.5k

warnings: MINORS DNI! this is 18+, pre!outbreak joel, there is smut in this part!! unprotected p in v, oral sex (f receiving), joel is a CONSENT KING AGAIN, dirty talk, daddy kink (aha), hotel sex?, begging? lmao I think that's it.

author's note: finally. it's here. I feel like I've been staring at this doc for 7 years. thank you all for your patience. I want to continue this series but I have to sit down and really brainstorm what I'd like the next parts to be. let me know your thoughts! THANK YOU FOR READING!

“My favorite Millers!” 

Your face was beaming, seeing Joel hop out of his truck with Sarah in tow. The truck was still running, the diesel engine chugging louder than any truck you had been in before. Joel always had a nicer, newer truck. He made great money and he was always having to go into construction zones that needed an all terrain vehicle. They always got pretty banged up with dirt and rocks, but he took excellent care of the interior. 

Joel grabs both of your bags, taking them to the backseat where Sarah would be crammed in with all the luggage. You give him a nod, silently thanking him. Sarah wraps her arms around your waist, giggling with excitement. 

“I’m so happy you’re coming with us! It’s going to be a great weekend,” She explains while you two walk over to the tall truck. You always found climbing into a truck unnatural and awkward yourself, but it was hot watching Joel hop in with ease. You agree with Sarah, all the while opening up the door for yourself. Sarah springs up to her seat, and you struggle to crawl up into the cab. It makes Joel chuckle. 

“I’m making you lift me into this thing next time,” you joke, easing back into the fabric seats, “Especially since you think watching me struggle is funny.”

Joel looks back in the rear view to see if Sarah’s paying attention, “‘s no problem at all, darlin’. I will gladly help you next time.”

You knew he was flirting. It makes your stomach bubble with excitement. He makes sure you two are buckled and starts on the two and half hour journey to Houston. Once you leave your neighborhood, Sarah taps your shoulder and holds out her new CD player. It’s purple and covered in sparkly stickers. 

“Looks like your Dad is supplying you with all the ways to listen to music,” you observe, glancing over at Joel. He’s just watching the road, one hand on the steering wheel, the other propped up on the shifter. He looks younger, the dusk sky the perfect back drop for his pronounced nose and beautiful eyelashes. You couldn’t help but stare, even as Sarah’s talking your ear off. He just nods along to her, making sure she knows she’s heard. 

“Think I’m gonna listen to my Kelly Clarkson CD this time,” Sarah explains, putting her earphones over her voluminous curls, “So don’t try to talk to me!”

You and Joel giggle, shaking your heads at her comment. It’s not like you were the one’s talking before, you both think. 

It gives you both a moment without a kid’s ears nearby. 

“How was the rest of your work week?” He asks, tapping the shifter to the soft hum of the radio.

“Boring,” You mumble, “Think one of the guys in marketing has a crush on me and he’s making it impossible to avoid him. I can’t even go to the break room without him bothering me.”

You didn’t know why you felt the urge to tell Joel about the situation. It wasn’t even a real situation, it was just an annoying thing happening in your life.

“Hmph,” he ponders for a moment, “Want me to kill him?”

His tone is serious, but you know he’s just messing. You grin, nudging his arm with your elbow gently, ensuring it doesn’t move the steering wheel. 

“My hero,” You comment as you watch a smile crack across his face, “No, thank you, though. If it starts to get to stalker status, I will call you.”

“Seems like stalkin’ already, baby girl.”

The nickname makes your stomach flip. You purse your lips, contemplating his words. Sure it was creepy, but the guy was scrawny and you could probably snap him in half with two fingers. He had nothing to really worry about. Right?

Joel steals a glance over at you. 

“Maybe, but I’ll handle it.”

You wanted him to think you were strong enough to deal with unwanted attention, but to be honest, you weren’t sure how to say no to most men. You only ever had Tommy and he scared everyone away. Now everyone around town knew you were on the market, and men were drawn to your natural beauty and somewhat sassy attitude. 

Little did they know, you were hung up on the other Miller boy. 

“You let me know if you need me to talk to him,” He doesn’t take his eyes off the road, just reaches his right hand out to rest on your thigh, “Man to man.”

His hand is so warm, you feel it through your black leggings. He was almost always like a furnace, but it was okay, because you always ran cold. But every time he touched you, you felt that warmth trail up your arms and legs. He made you feel different. Every fiber of your being became electrified when he was around. It was a sensation you never noticed when you were with Tommy. You begin chalking it up to just being nervous because he was older and larger and… well, hotter. 

“Again, my hero,” you respond sarcastically, letting your hand rest on top of his. It makes him more confident, gently massaging that area. You watch as his hand creeps closer and closer to the crack between your legs. You practically gasp at the contact, but you catch yourself before you do, remembering there’s a child behind you. 

So you smack his hand away, shooting him a glare. 

“What are you doing?”

“Nothin’ just… sorry.”

You didn’t want him to pull away, your leg already missing his touch, but you knew what would happen if you did stuff like that in front of Sarah. She’s a teenage girl. She’ll talk. It’ll find it’s way to someone’s ears. 

You wanted to act like you didn’t care if Tommy found out, but deep down you knew it would be a disaster. You didn’t feel like being the talk of the town. You didn’t feel like explaining yourself to Tommy. You didn’t feel like watching Joel deal with the flack from his family, especially his mother. 

If you two wanted to continue this… game… you would have to keep it secret. That included keeping it away from Sarah’s eyes and ears. You and Joel would just be friends. You would just be her aunt. That’s it. 

“Don’t apologize,” You whisper, “Just not here.”

You two let the radio take over the rest of the trip, occasionally chatting about a song or what the newscaster says about the weather. Once you get into Houston, it’s already 8:30 at night. Joel pulls into the parking garage to the Marriot and you already start craving the bed that awaits you inside. 

-

“I call the bed near the window!” Sarah throws her stuff down, jumping straight onto one the huge queen size duvet. The room was nice. A large television set catches your eye immediately, proving that this was probably an expensive room if they were giving you free cable tv. The curtains were open, giving a beautiful view of Houston’s skyline. 

One thing you notice, too, is the fact that there was only two beds. You knew this, but it still made your stomach sink a bit. 

You realize you three hadn’t discussed the sleeping situation. You didn’t care where you would sleep, honestly. You just knew Sarah was a restless one, having slept next to her in a tent when she was 9. Family camping trips entailed you, Tommy, Joel, and Sarah sharing a 6 person tent and being absolutely miserable the whole entire time. Between Tommy’s snores and Sarah practically flailing all around the tent at night, you remember not getting a lick of sleep. 

“Go get a shower, Sarah. We will figure out who’s sleeping where.”

She groans at Joel, like usual. 

“Dad!”

“Shower,” he throws his bag down on the ground near the dresser, “No arguin’.”

Sarah sulks, her bag in hand, straight to the bathroom by the front door. You don’t say anything. You just start following Joel’s lead by putting your bags down next to his. You stand a bit too close to him, waiting for him to say where you’d be sleeping.  

He clears his throat, “I will take the recliner, if you want the bed.”

“Of course I want the bed, but I don’t want you to have to sleep in the recliner.”

It makes him laugh, how matter-of-fact you are. 

You hear Sarah start up the shower. You wouldn’t have to fear she hears you and Joel talk about the possibility of sleeping with one another. Again.

“It’s not a big deal,” He explains, unzipping his bags to grab his pajamas, “Sleep on the couch all the time.”

“But you have a nice plush couch,” You gesture towards the hard and structured looking recliner, “That doesn’t look comfortable at all.”

For a girl who didn’t want Joel touching you in the car, you were practically begging him to sleep next to you in the big comfortable hotel bed. 

“So, where do you want me to sleep?”

“Just take the bed.”

“But you want the bed.”

You swallow, not even looking up at him, “We both can have the bed.”

He’s silent, gripping onto his sweatpants and t-shirt. He slowly looks down at you, his eyes carry a curious glint in them. You cock your head, giving him a mischievous smirk.

“You and Sarah?”

“No, you and Sarah.”

He groans, “You are a fuckin’ tease.”

You giggle, watching him brush pass you to position himself close to the closet. He opens the closet door, slipping in like he’s looking for something in there. 

“What are you doing?”

“Changin’.”

“In the closet?”

He grabs his shirt from the nape of his neck and pulls it off smoothly. You can’t peel your eyes away, partially seeing his right peck from how he’s standing. It was like the morning after having sex with him. Your eyes were glued to him, his tanned skin practically asking to be touched and licked. 

You horny bitch. 

“Joel, get out of the closet.”

He chuckles, “Why? You want me to give you a show?”

Why yes, I really do, Joel. You think to yourself. You hum a response, peeling your eyes away. You needed to find your pajamas, a pair of Nike sports shorts and a black tank top. Lately, you’ve been sleeping completely naked, but that was obviously not an option here. 

Sarah finally leaves the bathroom as soon as Joel slides his pants up. She has her hair wrapped in a towel, which makes you smile. She looked so grown up, it’s hard to believe you met her when she was 6 years old. You wordlessly walk into the bathroom, beginning to change your outfit for your sleep wear. You splash some cold water on your face, your cheeks still blushed from seeing Joel shirtless. 

You hear the door outside open and close. You peak out, your traveling clothes wrapped up in your arms. Joel stands in the middle of the room, fiddling with the remote for the TV. 

“Where did Sarah go?” You question, packing your clothes back into your duffle. 

“She wanted to go get ice from the ice machine,” He grumbles, “Said she wanted to see if any of her teammates were awake or nearby.”

“Is her whole team staying here?”

“Yeah, pretty much every team gets a floor. Last year it was a like a huge sleepover. Fuckin’ nightmare,” Joel mutters, flicking through different channels, before landing on some westerns. You smirk, deciding to plop down on one of the beds. As soon as you lay back, Sarah comes back in, bucket in hand. 

“Can I go stay in Amelia’s room? Her mom is there, just two doors down.”

Well that solves the bed problem. 

Joel rolls his eyes, you can tell he’s already annoyed. “Is Amelia’s mom okay with that?”

“You want to go talk to her? I promise Dad, we will get up at 5:30 like we need to. Pleas-”

“Let’s go talk to Amelia’s mom.”

You hear them leave the room without saying anything else. 

You were tired from a long day at work and the long drive. But some excitement blooms in your stomach when you realize it may just be you and Joel, all alone in a hotel room. 

Before you have time to ponder all the wonders that may be in store for you, Joel comes back with a frustrated huff. 

“She staying over there?”

“Yeah, Amelia’s mom said it was fine. Then she started askin’ who you were. Guess they saw us in the hotel lobby.”

Your stomach twists, nervous at what his response was.

“And?”

“Told her you were Sarah’s aunt. She gave me a weird look.”

“Great, now the soccer mom’s will be oogling me tomorrow.”

“Well they will anyway,” Joel responds, finding a spot next to you on the edge of the bed, “Single ones won’t leave me alone.” 

You know he’s really just seeing if you’ll get jealous. But you don’t play into his little game. You just let out a loud hearty laugh. 

“The ladies just love a Miller.”

He grumbles something inaudible, nudging you with his elbow. “You do, don’t ya?”

“Sure do.”

His face softens, his eyes flicking down to your lips. 

You grin, “She’s 14 and super goofy. Loves to play socc-”

“You’re truly testin’ me today, ain’t ya?”

You can’t help yourself at that point. The way he’s flirting only gives you more reason to taunt him. 

“Is Sarah seriously going to be gone from the room all night?”

“Yeah,” He nods, leaning back on his palms. He acts like he’s watching TV, ignoring your not-so-subtle hints that you want his eyes on you. 

“So, I can finally ask you why you think it’s okay to tease me in the car?”

“Don’t know what you’re on about, darlin’,” He smirks, he knows.

You tilt your head to the side, finally lifting your hand onto his lap. You immediately start toying with him the same way, your hand creeping towards his crotch. His eyes peel away from the TV. He watches you closely, his eyes trailing from your gaze down to your fingers dancing on his pant leg. 

“You put your hand on my thigh and started inching closer and cl-“

“Are you tryin’ to make a point or pose a question?”

He was getting annoyed with the games already. But you’d only just begun. 

“I’m just trying to explain how you can’t do things like that to me in front of Sarah,” You remark, flicking your eyelashes up to his glare, “Especially when you can’t finish it.”

“Who said I ain’t gonna?”

You huff, “Well here we are, all alone in a hotel room. No kiddo in sight. Still not touching me.”

“Don’t think you deserve it cause you’re a tease.”

“How am I a tease, Miller?”

“You exist and that’s enough. Walkin’ around in a tank top,” He gestures to your chest, “Just beggin’ to be touched.”

Your skin is set alight. The words go straight to your core. 

“Joel-“

You’re cut off. His hands work quickly, pulling you by the nape of your neck, right to his eager lips. You begin to realize you had been longing for this moment for so long. He couldn’t resist anymore, his whole body buzzing at the fact that he finally has you again. 

His lips are soft and slow as they make their way around yours. His hands eventually trail down to your butt, his hands cradling both cheeks. He lifts you forward, sliding you up and onto his lap. 

“Been wantin’ this for months, baby.” 

Butterflies erupt in the pit of your tummy. You can feel them travel up to your chest as you look down at him, his eyelids heavy and his lips pursed.  

He waited for you to respond to his calls, knowing you needed time. He needed to be patient. You would come around, he knew it. After months, here you are. 

He thinks back to every time he was touching himself late at night, he would imagine the night you two shared. Your soft curves and needy dripping pussy. It drove him wild imagining you like this again. 

“I think it’s been more than wantin’, Joel,” You grind down on his prominent bulge growing in his sweatpants, “Think you need it.”

He grins, finally getting out of his own head.

“Such a little tease, damn it.”

You lean down, mindlessly speckling kisses behind his ear and neck. Your boobs rest right in front of his face, and you’re right, he needs it. His hands leave your behind, reaching up to the straps of your tank top. He tugs them down your biceps, allowing your cleavage to spill out more. 

Your hands find his dark peppered curls at the nape of his neck, pulling downward. You needed him closer and he obliged. He starts to kiss your collarbones, wandering down to the swell of your breasts. You can feel yourself staining your sports shorts with anticipation. 

You rock your hips, craving more. He takes the hint, reaching back down to lift you from your ass. He switches spots, laying you on your back on the plush white duvet. He’s leaning over you now, which gives you a great view of how spent he looks already. His gray sweatpants are hanging lower, tenting where his cock has grown hard. 

He smirks, taking off his shirt the same way he did earlier. With one hand, it slips right over his head and onto the floor. 

“Jesus,” You huff out, using the time to remove your top, “I need you, Joel.”

The smirk never leaves his lips. He leans down, pushing your legs apart with his pointer and middle finger. You open up for him, wanting nothing more for him to dive into you in every possible way. You watch as he slides his fingers up your thigh, past the openings of your shorts. 

He realizes you aren’t wearing underwear. He sighs as he swipes the pads of his fingers across your wet slit. 

“I know you do,” He drawls, watching you writhe under his touch, “You need me as much as I need you.”

He practically tears off your shorts, not wasting any time fighting with the fabric. 

You adjust how your laying to accommodate him laying between your thighs. He lays down on his stomach, bringing your hips close to his mouth. You watch as he kisses your inner thighs, his breath hot fanning against your skin. 

You remember the last time you were in this position. You spent night after night remembering the best head you’ve ever gotten, from the one and only, Joel Miller. And you could tell Joel was not going to go another moment without making you cum on his tongue. 

When his tongue hits the top of your slit, you whine at the contact. He presses his face in, diving deeping into your lips. As soon as he finds your clit, he puts all his attention there. His nose is pressed against your mound as he hums against your sensitive bud. 

“Joel,” You cry, reaching down between your legs to grab the crown of his head, your hands lacing into his locks, “Right fuckin’ there.”

He continues his movements, only increasing in speed in which he flicks his tongue. He wraps his lips over the swollen area, sucking and lapping your sweetness. He pulls away, the slick between your thighs missing him instantly. He brings his fingers up to his mouth and wets them with saliva. He glances up at your completely dazed face. 

“‘M gonna fuck you with my fingers first,” His voice is deep and hushed, “Make you cum. You gonna cum for me like a good girl?”

You don’t even know where it comes from. But you say it with your chest.

“Yes, Daddy.”

You never expected the moan to come out of his mouth. It’s deep and guttural. He couldn’t believe his ears, and he can’t believe the words came from your mouth. His good girl? That fuckin’ flithy?

He slips his fingers into you without resistance. His mouth finds it’s way back to your core, fucking you in unison. 

You reach up to your chest, cradling your own boobs. Joel’s still only in sweatpants but they are riding low on his hips. As he’s giving you his all, he’s grinding his hips into the bed, trying to get whatever friction he can. Watching the motion alone is driving you wild, sending your hips rotating on his tongue. You knew the release was coming, you could feel it in your fingertips. 

And when it comes, it’s like fireworks inside your stomach and chest. You lurch forward, crying out his name. You knew it was probably way too loud for the thin hotel walls, but you couldn’t help yourself. The orgasm sends stars speckling across your vision. 

Joel fucks you through the comedown. You are the hottest thing he’s ever laid eyes on, he thinks. When your body rests back, you’re panting, trying to ground yourself for a second. Joel pulls his fingers out and sucks each digit. 

“You’re gonna be the death of me,” You mewl, reaching out for him. You just need to touch him. 

He shimmies his sweatpants down and off his legs. He’s sitting back on his knees, smiling down at your desperate eyes. He crawls on top of you, his dick prodding at your thighs. He leans down, trapping your lips into another longing kiss. His hands trail down your sides, leaving goosebumps in their wake. He pulls back after a couple seconds, gazing into your eyes. 

“You still on that birth control?”

You hum in response. 

“Need me to pull out still?”

You smirk, lacing your arms around his shoulders, “No. Need you to cum inside me.”

He shakes his head, sitting back to line himself with your entrance.

“My dirty girl,” He runs his cock head between your swollen red lips, triggering your hips to move closer to him, “You drive me insane.”

“Come on, Joel. I’ve been waiting for ages for you to fuck me. Need you. Now.”

He chuckles darkly, still not giving you what you want. “Waiting ages, huh?”

“Joelllll,” You beg, smacking his chest, “Please.”

“Mmm,” He pushes forward just enough to relieve your ache, “Love it when you beg for it.”

He practically splits you open when he snaps his hips. You both groan simultaneously, unable to hold back this sick fantasy you’re both playing into. You feel more full than you ever did before. You don’t remember it hurting this good. 

“Holy fuck,” you whine, “So fucking full, Joel.”

He slowly pulls back, “You tell me if it’s too much, ‘kay?”

You shake your head, throwing your head back as he sets a cautious pace. He’s watching all your facial expressions, making sure he’s not hurting you. You wince when he starts to pick up the pace, which causes him to halt completely. 

“No,” You plead, “More. Faster. Please, just please.”

He says nothing, just pushes up your thighs so the back of them are flush with the front of his. He leans over you, his elbows on each side of your head. He grinds into you while his dark curls fall into your face. You tilt your head up, finding the crook of his neck again. 

His cock felt so good dragging in out of you. You felt like you could stay in this position forever. You molded so perfectly around him. He treated you like this beautiful mural, taking his time with delicate strokes. His hands wrapped around the back of your head, holding you in the curve of his body.

You latch your lips onto his neck, peppering lovebites everywhere. You didn’t even think about if they could be seen later. In the moment, you only thought of him as yours. He was yours and everyone would fucking know it. 

He’s starting to get more greedy. He pulls back, his warmth moving away from your perked up nipples. His upper body the best view you could get, so you couldn’t complain too much. He grabs behind your knees, using them as leverage as he starts to pound into you. 

Your eyes meet and for fuck’s sake, he’s perfect. You never knew you could see Joel Miller like this. Like someone who fucked you so good, but also cared so tenderly for you. He wanted to see you in the throws of pleasure, not even worrying about when he’d get his rocks off. He got his rise out of seeing how much you enjoyed yourself.

His ravenous drive to bring you to the edge is causing the headboard to slam against the wall which each stroke. He brings his left hand up to your bouncing tits, grabbing your nipple and tugging on it. He knew what touching your boobs did to you. He remembers watching your visceral reactions to him toying with them before. It brings a smile to his face. 

“I’m gonna-”

You don’t even finish your sentence, you just gasp as you feel his cock head hit the deepest parts of you. A place no other man has made it to. 

“I don’t want anyone else,” He musters out, his teeth clenching as your pussy restricts around him. He means it. He may be drunk on you, but he feels those words down to his bones. “I only ever want this.”

It was never just about the sex. Joel cared for you. Fuck, maybe he even loved you. 

You swallow, propping yourself up on your elbows. You glance down, watching his cock slip so perfectly, in and out of you. 

“I’m yours, Joel,” You manage to peep out before the orgasm you’ve been holding back builds to a maddening point, “I’m yours.”

The words make his cock twitch. He can’t help himself, he needs you to cum right this very moment. He doesn’t say anything, just unhooks your legs and uses his right hand to put pressure on your clit. Tears start to prick in your eyes as he lazily rubs circles, humming in satisfaction. He feels you tightening up, he knows your close. 

Your vision goes white. You body starts to vibrate, the pure bliss he’s sending you into takes you to a whole other dimension. You want more. More. More. More. 

As he watches you seize up, he can’t resist his own orgasm. The explosion sends him into a moaning mess. He fucks into you, painting your walls with his cum, not letting a drop go to waste. 

He collapses on top of you. You don’t even care, you feel like jello anyway, he could melt right into you.

He rolls off after a minute. 

You always miss him when he’s not near you. 

You stare at the ceiling, pondering the right words to say to him. Nothing comes to mind. He gets up, walking naked to the bathroom. He grabs a rag from the shelf above the toilet, running it under some warm water. 

When he returns, you let him clean all around your body. You make sure he doesn’t wipe away the wet kisses he left all over you, though. 

“You okay?”

You finally look at him. 

You want to say yes, because you were okay. Physically. But your heart wanted to pulsate out of your chest. 

“I will be,” You state simply, “Just tired.”

He slowly starts grabbing all your articles of clothing off the floor, dressing you once he collects all of them. He’s careful with you. Gentle. 

“Do you want to sleep in the same bed?”

The question rings in your ears. Of course you did. 

“As long as you get up at the ass crack of dawn and move before Sarah comes in.”

He chuckles, pulling his sweatpants back over his waist. He doesn’t even bother to put on his shirt.

“Will do, baby.”

-

When you wake up, you realize the overheard light flickered on. You contort your sleep dazed body, Joel’s upper body practically laying over you. You try to blink the haze out of your eyes, but your tired mind is completely shocked when you see an outline of a girl. 

Shitshitshitshitshit.

You fling your body upward, rattling Joel awake. He’s startled, his arms flinging off of you. 

“I knew it!” Her voice is piercing. “I knew it! Holy shit!”

“Sar-”

“Are you two dating? Or are you just… wait, ew!”

She’s rambling, her words clashing together in confusion. Your heart is about to hammer out of your chest. 

“Sarah, we aren’t dating,” You declare, your voice shaking. 

“But you’re sleeping together?”

You could cut the silence with a sword. It’s so thick and awkward. 

A 14 year old girl shouldn’t know you’re sleeping with her Dad. Let alone walk in after you spent all night tangled up in him. 

“Sarah,” Joel’s voice is buttery and raspy after he wakes up. You hold the comforter up to your chest. You had your tank top on, but it hangs so low on you, you don’t want to risk anything. “Grab your uniform, get dressed. We can talk about this later.”

“Does Uncle To-”

“Sarah! Stop!”

It scares you since it’s so close to your ear. His voice changes so abruptly, it makes you cringe a bit. 

Hearing the question from Sarah’s lips makes you feel queasy. Having the girl who you always considered your niece ask if her uncle knew you were sleeping with her dad... God what a fucking mess. 

You watch her storm across the room, grabbing her backpack and race to the bathroom, slamming the door behind her. 

Joel groans next to you as he slams back into the plush pillows. 

“She will be fine. We will talk about it later,” Joel says under his breath. 

You open your mouth but nothing comes out. 

You hadn’t thought much of this through. Ever since you and Joel first slept together, you pushed your harbored feelings to the side. Sometimes they creep in, which would send you into a panic. Because deep down, you knew you felt something for Joel. Something you hadn’t felt since you first started dating Tommy. Maybe even ever. It was exciting. He made you feel special. After everything he said to you last night, you knew he possessed some similar emotions and feelings.  

You felt crazy for believing this could work. 

You knew this would be complicated. Now Sarah is involved. How do you explain these emotions to a child? You don’t. 

You think about all the horrible outcomes to this situation. Tommy wanting to fight Joel. His mom never accepting you back into the family. Who knows, maybe Sarah gets so upset at the situation, she never treats you the same again. 

But then you think about Joel. How he’s a night and day difference to what Tommy was to you. He wore his emotions on his sleeve. He wanted to protect you. He wanted to take care of you every chance he could. 

You start to think back to the times when you were still with Tommy. Joel defended you when you two had a blowout fight. He always made sure to have a watchful eye on you when you all went out to bars. He was even there when you graduated college, giving you a bouquet of beautiful daises he swore up and down Sarah picked out. But you knew the truth. Joel loved daisies. He even had his Mom plant some in his front yard last year. 

You were just so scared. You didn’t want to be hurt again. You did not want your feelings to be wrong. 

You glance down at him, your back still turned. He could read your face, he knew you were overthinking everything. Your mind was working overtime, trying to muster up some excuse to run away and forget everything that happened between you two. There was nothing normal about this situation. 

But fuck, you both really wanted it. So bad. You couldn’t keep lying to yourself. 

His hand creeps up your back, resting a reassuring palm on your aching shoulder. 

“Stop thinkin’ for a minute,” he whispers, “You don’t need to make any decisions right this minute. We will just take it one second at a time. Ain’t no way ‘m lettin’ you go. I want you here.”

You didn’t know if he meant here in general or in the figurative sense. 

He meant it both ways. 

Maybe it was crazy, but that feeling was deep in your chest. This palpable inkling that this could evolve into you being his. 

This being more than sex? More than a crush?

Being Joel’s sounded like a fever dream.

He wanted nothing more but to wrap you up into his arms, hold you and kiss your head, reassuring you that you two can figure it out together. But instead, Sarah walks out in her soccer uniform, squashing the moment. She stands in front of the bed, finally making eye contact with you. 

“You guys gonna get up and watch me kick ass, or are you gonna to lay in bed all day?”

You smile at her. You silently prayed this girl would stay in your life forever.

“I know my answer.”

Joel smiles, “’s go kick some ass.”

-

again thank you for reading!! let me know your thoughts!

find part 1 and 2 here!

[finchly-tintinnabulation]

- Scout's Honor -

Original Ultramarine (Aristaeus) x GN!Reader

Next>>

Tags: Dubious consent, space marine not knowing his own strength (blood), rutting behaviors, gets a bit spicy but the clothes stay on

First time posting my writing here as a newer WH40k fan (and possibly my first time writing 2nd person), this one being heavily inspired by @cosmic-cryptid-from-beyond's The Bellowing, @jaghatai-khock's Rutting Season, @kit-williams's Space Marine Husbandry Bonds, and general rut/bond dynamics. This will probably become a series oops

- - -

The 10th company barracks had been unusually quiet for days with the absence of the more experienced scout squads, those who were no longer neophytes with the completion of their bio-augmentation but lacked the rank of battle-brother, still on the proving grounds of combat. With your assigned squadrons away, you had to admit it was a lot more boring to walk the halls performing your duties. 

You were not the most efficient or devout serf, and while that quality had protected you by keeping your head down upon the slaver ship, you had worried your rescuers would not take so kindly to those qualities. To your surprise, however, you found your place serving the Scions of Ultramar to be comfortable. Even if the recruits had forgotten whatever previous human life they had, they were rowdy and playful as any young man would be, and the centuries old officers were of a patient temperament. Listening to the chatter of the Astartes was the most interesting part of your day, their jests and discipline alike. 

There were only a handful of neophytes milling about and polishing their armor, so you decided to take advantage of most of the company’s absence to clean the barracks without getting underfoot. The thing that may have tipped you off to something out of the ordinary was the lack of other serfs as well, but at the time you paid it no mind, especially when there was nobody to fuss at you for not wanting to haul around a stepladder to reach the corners of Astartes-sized living quarters. 

Room to room you scrubbed away the soot left from long hours of burning candles and incense, climbing precariously up onto the edges of cots to wipe film from the walls and ceilings. Humming to yourself let you pass the time in peace, methodically going about your work and restocking incense where it was needed. 

That was until you were reaching up for a particularly stubborn stain and you were suddenly crushed to the wall you were supporting yourself against with the force of being run over by a tank. 

Your head smacked hard against the metal and your knees buckled, eyes watering as white hot pain shot through your nose, some huge growling mass huffing hot breaths into your ear. Panic quickly overtook you, uselessly squirming against the beast enveloping your form. Defying an angel would surely get you punished, but that didn’t cross your mind when acrid animal fear clouded your thoughts.

“Hey! Down!” You barked with all the air that hadn’t been pressed out of your lungs, tone scolding and authoritative with the memory of your family’s dogs from long ago. To your shock, it seemed to work. The weight retreated and you crumpled to your knees on the cot, heart jackrabbiting as you turned to see what manner of creature had jumped on you like prey. 

A scout marine perched on the edge of the bunk, still clutching your calves and looking like he’d been caught with a hand in the cookie jar, apparently freshly showered judging from his wet hair and fatigues. How someone so large could ambush you so silently was no longer a mystery. You recognized him as a member of Sergeant Telion’s squad though his name escaped you, a familiar face as one of the men whose belongings you tended to, a sniper with no small amount of talent praised for his composure and calmness. And you were in his room. 

“Oh sh— I’m so sorry, my sincerest apologies sir— my lord angel, I must excuse myself—“ Frantically you looked to the floor for the rest of your cleaning supplies to grab and make a break for it, but your plans were halted by a loud, forlorn whine. 

The scout’s brown eyes were huge and wet, taking on a glassy quality from shame and something you couldn’t quite put your finger on. Some unfocused desperation as he looked pleadingly up at you, his hands retreating to give your ankles a squeeze. 

“Uh— easy, there… I’m not mad.” More than a little bewildered, you ever so slowly turned to sit on the cot to face the man, feeling a twinge at the pathetic look on his face as if he hadn’t just pounced on you. Did he want to be comforted or something?

Just as slowly you reached out, and things were a bit more clear when he met your hand halfway by leaning in to nuzzle against it, chuffing happily. You couldn’t help but chuckle at the absurdity. Sure, there was some arguably pack-like behavior amongst the squadrons, but this marine was practically a puppy. 

“That’s it, you’re okay.” Petting his damp scruffy crew cut, you listened to what could be mistaken for the distant rumble of thunder grow into a purr that vibrated through your whole body. You thought that perhaps you had appeased the beast for a moment before he climbed up onto the cot and into your space, shoving his face into yours with superhuman speed. 

Lips and tongue intruded on your mouth and nose, making you sputter in shock as the scout lapped at your face, making you taste something metallic. You gasped and tried to wipe away the saliva, making the marine retreat long enough for you to see him lick blood off his teeth. Where did… oh, your nose had been bleeding from the impact. Fuck.

“Is this your way of saying sorry? Hey, gentle.” Gingerly scratching at his scalp, the licking eased up to something more like dog kisses on your cheek as the scout crowded his way practically into your lap. Fear almost entirely forgotten, there was something pleasant about the warm solid presence once again pinning you in place. “…Good boy.”

Physical affection was something you assumed to be a thing of the past. There was little time for it amongst the serfs when so much was taken up by work and prayer, you couldn’t help but bask in it even as the scout shifted to practically laying on top of you, wrapping his arms around your chest. Warmth and presence and deep breathing, comforts you had almost forgotten. 

The marine’s warm tongue traveled downwards, lingering on your jaw before his face was abruptly stuffed into the crook of your neck, drawing a breathless and undignified yelp from your throat. Lips and teeth sank into your trapezius, undoubtedly worrying dark marks into your skin between desperate huffs of hot breath. That also drew your attention to his meaty thighs straddling yours, and the jerky movement of his hips. 

How would this look? Remembering yourself and your station you wriggled experimentally, breath ragged and face heating from the movement and teasing mouth. It was no use; there was no escape from underneath a fully grown Astartes. If you called out for someone to get this brute off there was a good chance of you being implicated, possibly blamed as some sort of corrupting force to the future of the Ultramarines. It was probably best to ride out the scout’s affections. 

Honestly… in that moment you didn’t quite feel like complaining. Touch starvation could be a potent thing, and despite his size and weight the marine held you tenderly, his body enveloping yours in warmth and the smell of fresh linens and something… strange and syrupy. Your head spun, small clipped groans slipping from between your teeth as the man atop you bit and sucked the flesh between his, the ache it left feeling tingly and… pleasurable. There was a heat low in your gut, the friction of your trousers rubbing against his becoming dizzying. 

You hadn’t been touched like this in so long… sweet purring sent a rumble through your chest that made your limbs feel numb… you couldn’t properly clamp down on the noise you made as his hand pressed down on your stomach…

“Aristaeus, what do you have?” The scout froze, finally pulling away from your neck to cover you with his body, apparently trying to hide you from the booming voice about where you remembered the open doorway being. “Let me see.”

A drawn out whine reverberated through your chest but his mass retreated, allowing you to tip your head back and try to make out the fuzzy upside down figure behind you. 

“Se-Sergeant…?” You croaked, blinking dazedly as you recognized the elderly Astartes. He raised a hand to rub the bridge of his nose

“Brother Aristaeus, give them to me.” Another whine. Despite the terrifying sensation of being caught, you realized the tone Sergeant Telion used; handling a disobedient dog. “Now, please.”

The weight holding you in place lifted at the same moment you were grabbed by the back of your tunic and hauled into the air, carried away by a speed walking and very miffed Scout Sergeant. 

“I’m— I’m sorry my lord, I was cleaning the scouts’ quarters and—“

“Were you not told?” Sergeant Telion muttered, fixing you with his mechanical eye. 

“Told what? I mean, no sir— my lord, I wasn’t.” You floundered, limp as a scruffed kitten. 

Telion sighed wearily, pushing open the door to what you vaguely remembered to be the debriefing room. “To stay out of sight.” He set you on the table to better fix you with his stare, steady and unwavering as any master marksman would be. 

“…No, lord angel. I was unaware I wasn’t permitted to go about my duties as usual. Most of the serfs here are— what I mean to say is, I may not be inundated with everything, as I arrived a few months ago.” Undoubtedly there were already marks blooming on your neck that the Sergeant had seen, but you clasped a hand over your throat, self conscious and feeling just as trapped as if he had been holding you there. 

“Mm. I will have to discuss this with the Master of Reconnaissance. Unfortunate, we haven’t had such complications for a while.” Stroking his beard, Telion began to turn away. 

“Please my lord, I apologize for any complications I have caused, forgive my transgressions!” Complications. Ice ran down your spine as you imagined any number of punishments you could face, clasping your hands to try and disguise your trembling. Going back to the Drukhari was a preferable fate to becoming a servitor.

“It’s alright, this is the result of oversight, not you.” His bushy white brows furrowed. “Although I regret to inform you that your role as a serf will be changing. A first rut bond must not interfere with training.”

[lilly-chou-chou]

Gyaru: A guide for newbies and a love letter for seasoned gyals.

There were a lot of things that made me post about this. I thought a lot about it for years but recently I had an interaction which confirmed my mind.

As a woman who had been doing gyaru since the age of 4, I have few guides for gyaru that you may agree with or not, but I am posting this regardless because I want this to be known, especially by new gyals.

Gyaru is a movement which moulds modern japanese feminism and breaks boundaries that previously pushed women to only be of certain category.

This to say, there are indeed a lot of subculture under the umbrella term like hime, rokku, agejo and such.

My guides start from here on. When you first decide to start gyaru fashion I suggest you explore your options, try our different styles, fave fun and go with what works for you.

There is a lot of misconception that just because you prefer one subculture more doesn't mean you are lesser knowledgeable in other subcultures. You are free to do what makes you happy and pretty because gyaru was the staple for just doing eccentric fashion, it was never about rules and policing others. The culture was born because they opposed Japan's view of women. When women were forced to be me meek, sensitive, weak, soft spoken... Gyarus were the opposite they were loud, brash, tanned and knew how to have fun.

Gyarus were safe space for women who didn't want to be judged and just wanted to have fun.

Of course when you start out you always can look at tutorials and what not but remember to always feel pretty and enjoy what you're doing. Stop thinking and flush out people who police you about "wear this" "don't wear that!" "Wtf don't buy this!" "Are you stupid? You don't even own any brands wow you are not a REAL gyal" and the most funniest part is that these things come from just foreigner gyals.

As a person who also lived in Tokyo for a while and used to practically live inside Shibuya 109 I can assure you that Japanese gyals will NEVER EVER say anything like foreigner gyals and police you because they genuinely want you to have fun, gyals out of all people are no. 1 in not caring about rules and just doing it purely for fun.

Back then if you went to Tokyo then you could see every sub culture co existing and hanging out sharing tips, sharing clothes from different brands and hyping each other up.

Never feel you are less or unworthy, never listen to people who tell you, you are doing it wrong because you mix 2 sub cultures in your fashion.

Live your truth and enjoy. You are the most prettiest gyal ever. Live your life full slay.

In conclusions I just wanted to post this so newer gyals don't feel pressured or scared to know and explore more of our beautiful community and for old gyals to remind them once again what a beautiful culture we chose to follow and how fun they really are.

Love you my gyals, let's keep this community thriving <3

[i-arch-my-backula]

How horror characters spend their Halloween with you

I wrote about this last Halloween and I wanted to make a better version of it with more characters this time. I am such a slut for Halloween and just autumn in general.

Includes: Asa Emory, Michael Myers, Hannibal Lecter, Will Graham, The Sinclair brothers and Severen

Warnings: Murder and violence mentions, Hannibal being a little mean, blood talk in Severen's part (he's a little weirdo)

Asa Emory

He honestly thinks Halloween is a children's holiday. He never even bothered to get Halloween candy before he met you. If you're really Halloween obsessed he'll consider letting you put up decorations that he approves of. It's not cheap Halloween, Christian girl autumn or classic Halloween, its a secret fourth thing.

I can see him favoring vintage Halloween decorations over the newer ones. But he does like the insect and bug themed things you bring home. He wants the Halloween bug decorations to be casual enough to keep out year round.

He doesn't go to Halloween parties and if you bring him to one he's not dressing up. He'd say he's dressed up as an 'entomologist' or if you know his identity as the collector 'a homicidal maniac'.

He probably doesn't like horror movies because he's one of those people who think all horror movies are bad. But if he happens to see a new way he can torture someone he'll happily sit through a saw movie to see how else he can torment people.

He honestly won't eat any candy but as an 'experiment' he'll see how much you can eat before you get sick. Speaking of candy if you want to get up and answer the door to hand out candy you can do that but he's not joining you. If you're going to be out or you don't want to be disturbed he'll be happy to leave out a bowl.

Michael Myers

He's obviously going to be busy with killing people so for a majority of Halloween you'll be on your own. But he will be watching you the rest of the month as you put up decorations and buy candy.

He'll also be sneaking candy from the bags you buy. It might be smart to buy two bags just for Michael to eat on his own. If he's feeling generous he'll share some with you.

He gets some kind of weird enjoyment in seeing if you dress up and what you dress up as. Enjoyment in a Michael Myers kind of way. He likes more classic costumes and ones that have a good amount of effort put into them. He also thinks that he sexy Halloween costumes are just silly.

I feel like if you let him Michael would enjoy picking out your Halloween costume. Like you give him a pen and paper and he picks out what costume you wear, he would love that. I feel like he'd choose something funny to him, like the sheet ghost.

He'll get home in the early morning of November first and if you're still awake he'll spend time with you after washing up. If you're watching horror movies that's even better for him. He'll sit on the couch and watch them with you. Or if he's feeling affectionate he'll even lay down and have you lay on top of him while you watch.

Hannibal Lecter

He's European and to my knowledge Halloween isn't that big of a thing in Europe. He's familiar with Halloween and stuff but he doesn't really celebrate it. If you're really into Halloween he's happy to listen to you tell him all about it.

He's not really in a neighborhood to give out candy in and he also doesn't eat anything that isn't a 14 course meal so if you want Halloween candy you'll have to get it on your own. Even then he'll probably just silently judge you for it.

He's not much of a decorator for holidays, especially Halloween because of how 'cheap' and 'ugly' the decor is. If you try to put up stuff he doesn't like he'll throw it away or if it gets bad enough, tell you to stop putting things up. It all depends on the decorations though.

I can see him making an excuse to throw a dinner party for Halloween. But without costumes or any Halloween themeing and it's just a dinner party on Halloween. If you're someone who likes to spend Halloween watching Horror movies or going to parties Hannibal is fine with that. He won't join you at the parties and he might try to get you to not go but he's happy to watch Horror movies with you.

I can see him trying to cook stuff with pumpkin in it. But I strongly believe that he wouldn't let anyone carve pumpkins in his house. You've seen his clear suit while he kills people and how clean his house and office always is so I doubt he'd enjoy carving a pumpkin and how messy it can get.

Will Graham

Because of his upbringing he never really got to enjoy a traditional Halloween as a child and I feel like he rarely went to Halloween parties, so he's not a big Halloween kind of guy.

If you're putting up decorations you'll have to keep the dogs in mind. I think Will trains then well and that they're well behaved in general but you can never be too careful. I also think he'd find decorating a little pointless since he lives far away from everyone else.

He doesn't buy candy because there's no trick or treaters to give candy to, also again, his dogs. So you can buy candy for the two of you to share but I feel like you'd end up eating more than him.

Because Will is kind of prone to nightmares he wouldn't be super interested in watching horror movies, or spooky kid movies. But I do think he'd be open to the idea of reading scary stories together.

If Halloween is important to you he'll treat it as kind of important too, because he loves you. I don't see him doing costumes, but I do think he'd be willing to put the dogs in costumes for pictures and stuff like that.

Bo Sinclair

He never really got to enjoy Halloween as a child because he had to take care of Vincent and Lester. I also feel like his parents just didn't really like Halloween in general so they didn't celebrate it. This has led into his adult life where he doesn't celebrate Halloween.

He works like a majority of the time. I feel like he'll wake up at any hour of the night to go deal with victims. So trying to convince him to take off Halloween will take a lot of convincing. But he'll eventually understand and take the night off to spend with you.

I feel like he'd rather give up on the town than wear a costume. He'd be like Asa and just wear his normal clothes and say he's something. Like he'd wear his coveralls and say he's 'a mechanic' for Halloween.

He never bought candy before for Halloween but if you buy candy, he's probably stealing a lot of it, if not the whole bag. There's no trick or treaters so he'll happily watch horror movies with you and eat an entire bag of Halloween candy.

Speaking of horror movies he'll complain about watching horror movies until you throw in something like there's nudity in the movies, then he's more willing to watch the movies with you.

Vincent Sinclair

He thinks Halloween is a good time to incorporate more horror elements into his art as if he doesn't already do that. I can see him enjoying the idea of sketching or painting you in different Halloween costumes. They'll probably come from victims but he doesn't think it's a big deal.

He'd love to carve pumpkins with you but he'd be one of those people who takes it really seriously and probably makes some kind of masterpiece on the pumpkin. He'll probably just bribe Lester to get them for you because Bo would say no.

I don't think he has the biggest sweet tooth so he'll probably not be eating much candy, but that won't stop him from bribing Lester to get you some if you want candy. I can see him decorating the House of Wax for Halloween, complete with wax candy.

He'd be open to watching horror movies with you, but I seem him only really enjoying like art house or psychological horror movies, like ones with commentary or just ones that are really odd in a good way. He'll watch more cheesy and silly horror movies but he won't really like them.

I can see Vincent taking Halloween as an opportunity to kill people in more creative ways. Like the classic poisoning candy. I think he'd get more creative with it too, like using fake cobwebs to strangle someone to death.

Lester Sinclair

I feel like Bo and Vincent let Lester have some kind of Halloween. Their parents tried to keep them from celebrating Halloween but the twins scraped up some kind of pocket money to buy candy they could share with him.

Despite him not celebrating Halloween as a child I feel like Lester likes Halloween in a normal way. He likes Halloween and the aesthetics of Halloween. He has decorations but he doesn't usually put them up, but if you want them up he'll put them up for you.

He'll probably have to work on Halloween because he works almost every day. But he'll make sure to get Halloween night off so he can spend it with you watching Halloween movies and doing fun Halloween activities.

Like Will he'd love to dress Jonesy up in a dog costume and take pictures of her. He wouldn't dress up but if you wear a costume he'd be all over it no matter what you're wearing.

Depending on how long you've been with him he might take you to a haunted house outside of town if you're interested in haunted houses. He'd only do this if you've been with him for a very long time. He'd keep a close eye on you while you're out of the house, but he still wants to make sure you're having a good time.

Severen

He's very into Halloween. Even though he lives in cars and motels he still finds fun ways to celebrate Halloween. I feel like he'd binge blood from people dressed as vampires for Halloween.

He's weirdly into blood. Like he'll get his hands purposely covered in blood just so he can rub the blood all over you because he thinks you look hot when you're covered in blood. So on Halloween he'll get really messy with it. I feel like his costume would just be his normal outfit covered in blood. Also he might make out with you while his mouth is filled with blood.

He totally crashes Halloween parties and drinks himself super sick. I feel like vampires have a high alcohol tolerance but they have worse hang overs. But he thinks it's worth it to drink himself sick at a Halloween party with you.

If Halloween parties aren't your thing he's happy to just sneak into a movie theater and watch some horror movies. He'd especially enjoy if you get scared or squirmy and hold onto him while you watch the movies.

He knows you can't have Halloween without candy so he'll either steal candy from kids (unless you tell him not to) or he'll steal some from a store. He can eat a ton of candy before he gets sick and if you can't eat as much as him he'll tease you about it (but he really does care).

[incorrect-finding-frankie]

For the x Reader thing:

Lucky Contestant and Human Reader. Maybe Reader is another contestant who wins a different season with Lucky. Or they die idk

🐰|From what they’ve learned, Lucky was well aware that they’d been the only contestant to actually win.|🍀

🐰|...And then the next rolls around. Just like before, there are new contestants—Lucky doesn’t know any of their reasons...|🍀

🐰|And then there’s you. Something feels a little different with you, compared to the rest of the newer contestants.|🍀

—

You scanned the area, hands clenched into fists. Scenarios were rushing through your head, as fast as a train.

To the right, there were four others. To the left? Just one.

The one on the left seemed... pretty focused. Pretty relaxed. Although, with the mask on, you couldn’t tell what they were thinking.

You took in a deep breath... and it released as two of the others rushed past you, one of them snickering.

A sigh came from somewhere on the left—and for a moment, you thought you saw the focused contestant shake their head.

Had they seen something like this before?

The gate to the room snapped open, and a monster rabbit leaped forwards, causing you to flinch.

He seemed far more focused on the two up front—but you didn’t exactly keep watching for very long.

The contestant to your left suddenly bolted for the opened gate, while the last one on the right seemed to hesitate.

Taking in another breath, you followed after the lucky one—trying your best to avoid a gruesome sight.

The moment you made it through the entryway, you tripped over your own feet...

...And right onto the other contestant, who let out a grunt. “Get off!”

—

🐰|At first, Lucky just tries to ignore you. They just try to keep on going.|🍀

🐰|But you’re talking a lot—and you’re somehow managing to keep up, and not sharing a similar fate to the other contestants.|🍀

🐰|”Listen, man-“ “Use my name, Lucky.” “I’d rather not. If I named you, I could get attached.”|🍀

🐰|Lucky’s not the only one surprised at how well you’re doing. Other Frankie didn’t think that there would be another lucky contestant.|🍀

—

“...You were in the last season?” You blinked at Lucky.

Lucky didn’t bother looking back at you—evidently being far more focused on the current parkour situation.

“Obviously.” The other contestant muttered. “How else would I-“

“Fair.” You interrupted them, earning a huff from Lucky. You felt like they rolled their eyes.

“Just stay focused, alright? We still have a lot to do.”

—

🐰|...Lucky got attached. After some time, at least.|🍀

🐰|A couple of times, you make them laugh. Lucky tries to hide it, but you very much hear it.|🍀

🐰|Although... actually getting attached? That’s a problem. There’s still a good chance that something could happen to you.|🍀

🐰|Especially when Hexa Havoc finally approaches.|🍀

—

“One last place, contestants!” From somewhere above, you heard the familiar voice of Other Frankie.

A chuckle seemed to escape from the rabbit. “Familiar, isn’t it, Lucky?”

You dropped down beside them, groaning a little from the fall. But then, you grinned, just a little.

You turned your attention towards Lucky—who seemed rather still for a moment. “Ready, Lucky?”

A sigh escaped Lucky, and the contestant turned away from you. “Just... be careful.”

They weren’t too certain how it would go this time.

[ynbabe]

Bite Me ୨୧ Charles Leclerc x Reader- Vampire AU

Charles had admittedly done many stupid things in his life, getting turned into a vampire in a club in Monaco was definitely one of them, but at least he has you, but what happens when his brothers see the bite marks on you?

Was it obvious I was listening to Lana del Rey while writing this?

You groaned as his teeth sank into your collarbones, blood seeping out into his mouth. Your grip on his shoulders as a pang of pain rolls through your body as he sucks on the open wound, lapping up the warm blood that poured out.

Your nails dug deeper into his bare back as the pain increased, a small groan escaping his lips as you broke skin. Your head fell back as Charles finally let go.

You pressed your hand to your head feeling light-headed, squinting your eyes you missed the look of guilt Charles had.

"I'm sorry, Mon Amore," he kissed your neck, lips still sticky. You could only hum in response. He laid down on top of you, burying his head on your chest.

"Did you get enough?" You asked him, making him nod against your skin.

When you first found out, you were terrified, almost running out of the apartment when he showed you his teeth but his puppy eyes made your heart break. So you stayed.

"Lets go clean up," he whispered in your ears, picking you up.

You showered first, then changed into a simple pair of sweatpants and a tank top, not realising all the old bites that had turned into nasty bruises could be seen easily.

Just as you had tied up your hair, the doorbell rang. "Hey, babe, are you expecting anyone?" you called out.

"I don't think so," he yelled back. You sighed and walked out of your bedroom, going to check who'd interrupted Charles and your weekend bliss.

You had barely opened the door when Arthur came barreling in, a tired Lorenzo behind him, an apologetic look on his face. "Hey, Y/n," he greeted pulling you in for a hug, unknowingly applying pressure on Charles' bite marks, making you hiss in the older man's arms.

"Are you okay?" He asked, gasping when he saw the yellowed bruises on your arms, redder- more newer ones on your shoulders and the still fresh ones on your neck and collar bone.

His eyes widened as he pushed into the apartment, turning you around to see the 'damage', you tried to explain that it wasn't a big deal. It was Arthur's turn to go ballistic, he stopped talking, staring at you with his jaw slacked open. "What the fuck?" He whispered.

"Guys this isn't what you think-" You began but they wouldn't accept it.

Lorenzo furrowed his brows, "Did Charles do this to you?" he asked.

"No, Enzo," you tried to explain, without outing Charles' secret, "Not, in the way you think, he- it's not," you seriously weren't prepared to be interrogated today.

"Oh my god," he looked away, "this isn't right, Y/n, we can help you, I know he's our brother but you can talk to us," he started, Arthur butting in.

"Fuck that, he's hurting you y/n, you get help," Arthur called out. You were touched by their protectiveness but you had to explain before they thought the worst of Charles.

"Guys please," you tried once again but to no avail. Suddenly you were pushed behind the two boys, and before you could ask why you saw Charles walk out, a matching pair of sweatpants on, hair still dripping from the shower.

He seemed shocked to see his brother, especially the anger in their eyes, he moved towards you but they pressed forward, confusing him further.

"Hey-"

"DON'T YOU FUCKING HEY US YOU BASTARD," Arthur yelled making Charles flinch.

Arthur pulled you further back, glaring at his bother.

"How could you? You were supposed to love her! Maman raised you better than this!" Lorenzo yelled making Charles' eyes well with tears.

"What- what are you talking about?" He asked, trying to make sense of the whole situation, when Lorenzo pointed at you and all the recovering bite marks.

A look of realisation flashed across his face making him smile in relief, pissing off his brothers even more, "YOU'RE FUCKING SMILING" Arthur barked, throwing a pillow at Charles with deadly accuracy but he was faster, much faster.

"How could you even think I could do something like that?" He asked, suddenly infront of Arthur, "I'm a vamipre, not a monster!" He exclaimed, showing his fangs.

"Oh..." Arthur said meekly before passing out in your arms.

"Your a- a what? Is this some weird sex thing, because I don't want to know." Lorenzo asked with a hint of disgust in his voice.

Charles laughed and nodded no, explaining to his brother how he got into the predicament, providing proof by easily lifting Arthur by the collar with one hand.

"I- uh, I need to-" he pointed at the sofa, sitting down with his head in his hands. Charles placed Arthur next to Lorenzo, while you brought them water, gently waking up Arthur.

You and Charles took your place across them.

"So, you're fine with, whatever this is?" He asked you, waving his hands between Charles and you.

"Yeah,"

"H-how do you drive? Arent most races in the sun?" Arthur asked, finally waking up.

"Art, it's not like Twilight," he explained, "I just need more sunscreen than usual," he shrugged.

"Does Fred know? Any of the other drivers? Maman?" Lorenzo shot off.

Arthur on the other hand was interested in other questions, "Does your skin sparkle? Do you know any other vampires? How fast can you run? Do you actually drink blood?" he rambled, water long forgotten.

"Calm down, Arthur," You laughed at the younger boy.

"One question at a time guys, but no, no one else knows, not even Maman," he looked at Lorenzo.

"And no, my skin doesn't sparkle, it's not Twilight!" he exclaimed once again, making Arthur roll his eyes, "Yes, Fernando's one, and maybe Lance but I'm not sure, I can run pretty fast now, and yes, I need blood to survive now," he explained each answer making Arthurs eyes grow wider.

"That's where I come in," You raised your hand, pointing to the bite marks on your body.

"Does that hurt?" Lorenzo asked.

"It used to, not as much now," you shrugged, "It heals fast when I drink his blood," You explained making Arthur gag.

"So it's like TVD," he grimaced,

"I mean, yeah, sure," you answered.

A few more questions and finally Lorenzo and Arthur were satiated, deciding to leave. rather than staying for what they had originally come to do.

"I'm kind of hungry, order in?" Charles winked at you making you roll your eyes.

"Bite me."

Hope y'all like this, as always comments and reblogs are much appreciated! Also, how would y'all like a DC-style Logan fic? I've been itching to write that!

[schrodingers-romy]

You Have Changed my Mind (And Put my Heart at Ease) [Togame Jo x Tomiyama Choji x Reader]

Pairing: Togame Jo x Tomiyama Choji x GN!Reader Word Count: ~1600 [Ao3 Link]

Summary: Post-Shishitoren fight, a moment between Choji and the two people closest to him

Warnings: gender-neutral reader, written with aged-up characters in mind, serious conversation sandwiched between cute banter, ambiguous relationship but they love each other

Notes: long-awaited (long-awaited by me lmao) sequel to for a minute in the sunlight. like that one, title is from djo's CHANGE. I just wanna snuggle them <3

Prev | Series Page

Choji’s eyes were luminous in the twilight. It seemed as if they were lit by a spark inside of them, rather than the faint reflected glow of the streetlights and scattered stars. His eyes were the first things you saw when you awoke, and they took your breath away. (They were bright in a way they hadn’t been in a long time.)

The three of you had moved in your sleep; you were lying wedged between a still slumbering Jo’s arm and his body as he snored into your hair, and Choji had migrated until he was lying on top of you like a weighted blanket. Unlike Jo, he was already awake, his chin resting on your chest as he blinked up at you with a soft expression.

“Good morning,” he said.

“It’s night.”

“Good night, then!” He took a deep breath, and let it out in a great big sigh, melting even further into you. Choji always was a tactile person; you hadn’t indulged in it fully in a long time. (It was a combined product of Choji getting ‘bored’ with you and Jo, and Jo keeping this newer, more callous Choji away in case he hurt you.)  But now, it was as if Umemiya had lifted his ‘curse’, and Choji was back to burrowing his small, warm body into yours like a clingy pet.

You’re determined to soak all of his affection in; basking in it like a cat in the sunlight. You knew your back would protest your sleeping position later, but you’re not moving until Choji does, and he seemed perfectly content to use you as a body pillow.

“You look better,” Choji said, completely out of the blue. You blinked at him.

“What do you mean?”

“You seem happier,” he stated. He was looking at you, but it almost felt as if he was looking through you. His eyes were still bright, but they held a seriousness you never would have seen from Choji a few years ago.

You’re saved from trying to think up a response when a sleep-thick voice from behind you interjects.

“He’s right, you know,” Jo said lackadaisically, a small, self-satisfied smirk beginning to form on his face. He twisted so his face was next to yours. “You look prettier when you’re happy.”

The blatant flirting caused your brain to short-circuit. You knew things had…changed between the two of you last night, but you didn’t expect this sort of overtness, especially in front of Choji. You didn’t even know what sort of dynamic this would create between the three of you; and part of you was worried it would cause another rift when all you wanted was to pull them both close to you. Despite your worries, you still felt giddy butterflies swirling in your stomach when Jo called you pretty.

Choji let out a squawk.

Your heart shot into your throat.

“Kame!” he cried; his face was set into a pout as he glared at Jo. He pushed himself up on his hands and stuck his face even closer to yours; so close you could see the flecks of gold in his eyes and the faint white scar on his nose. You could feel your skin heating from the proximity of both of their faces. (You were suddenly overcome with a pang of sympathy for what Sakura must go through.)

“Don’t worry,” Choji stated, staring at you intensely, but earnestly. “You were always pretty! Don’t listen to Kame, he’s being silly.”

You let out a strangled squeak.

“Tsh.” Jo reached around you to flick Choji on the nose. “I said prettier, idiot. You don’t listen.”

Another squawk out of Choji. He reached over, likely to try and start play-wrestling with Jo, but you stopped him by wrapping your arms around his waist and pulling him to you in a hug.

“It’s okay, bunny,” you cooed, breaking out the old childhood nickname for Choji you hadn’t used in ages. “Thank you for trying to defend my honor from the big, mean kame.” You squeezed him as tight as you could, but he didn’t do anything other than giggle. 

“So crueeell,” Jo moaned, thunking his forehead onto your shoulder as he went limp. “Those cute faces just hide your evilness, both of you.”

You detached one arm from Choji so you could ruffle Jo’s shaggy hair. It was a frizzy, loose bedhead, but it was still soft when you ran your fingers through it. “Don’t worry Jo, we still love you, right Choji?”

“Of course!” Choji leaned forward, getting close enough to press a peck to the top of Jo’s head, making an exaggerated ‘mwah’ sound as he did so. The sight caused a burst of warm affection to shoot through you.

Jo didn’t answer, but you could feel him laughing into the crook of your neck as he nuzzled closer.

There was a moment of silence; you weren’t sure how long it lasted, but while it lasted, it was just the three of you, clinging to each other under the mixed lights of the city and the stars.

-

Choji’s voice was the one to break the peace. “I’m really sorry, y’know?”

He paused, turning so he could fix you and Jo with the full force of his wide, shining eyes. That seriousness was back, the giggling, joking Choji of a few minutes ago wiped away once more. It made him look older, and your heart briefly ached for the time you lost to Choji’s darkness. How much had he grown, while he was hidden by the shadows?

“I said sorry to Kame, but I need to tell you, too,” he said, holding your surprised gaze for a moment.

“Cho, you don’t need to—”

“Yes,” he interrupted. The force in his voice made your mouth snap shut. He sighed at this, deflating slightly, before continuing in a softer voice. “I’m so sorry. I hurt you. I didn’t mean to. Both of you look so happy now…and it made me think about how just…miserable we all were. And it was all my fault. So I’m sorry.”

He inhaled, voice shuddering. His eyes had gone glossy, and you realized that he was about to cry. “’M sorry! I mean it, I really do love you guys—” his voice cracked.

Jo reacted first, pulling Choji into a tight hug. “I’m sorry I didn’t help you.”

You could hear him sob into Jo’s shoulder, and you moved until you were plastered to Choji’s back. “And I’m sorry too, that I didn’t protect you both,” you murmured, before pressing your mouth to his temple in a firm kiss.

“We’re not mad,” Jo started.

“Well, I’m a bit mad at myself that I couldn’t help you,” you said, grimacing.

“Hush, pretty, y’know it’s not your fault,” Jo insisted.

You avoided his gaze, instead burying your face in Choji’s wild blond mane. “Either way, we don’t blame you, Choji. We just wanna be here for you.”

“And we love you too.”

“Mhmm. More than anything. Our little bunny,” you said, clutching at Jo’s shirt so you could effectively squash Choji between you both. “You’re not getting rid of us. We’re gonna right here with you. Always.”

The two of you held him until his tears stop pouring, and his breaths are even, instead of the jagged sobs of before. He pulled back from Jo’s now damp shoulder, so he could look at you both. His face was flushed and spotty, shining and slick with tears and other fluids. His eyes were puffy, but as he blinked the last of his tears away, you could see the genuine happiness reflected in them. You thought they never looked quite so beautiful.

You couldn’t resist smooching him on his cheek; it was salty, with dried tears, but just as soft as it looked. Jo, just as weak as you were, pressed a kiss to his other cheek. Not to be outdone, you gave Choji another peck, causing Jo to give one as well. It escalated until the both of you were pressing rapid-fire kisses all over Choji’s face; your antics caused him to giggle relentlessly, a sound of pure joy that made you feel giddy.

Eventually, you both slowed, kisses becoming more languid, simple brushes of both of your lips over his skin.

“What now?” you asked. The position you were slumped in was uncomfortable, but you felt secure in it.

“We take care of each other,” Jo murmured.

“Promise?”

“Promise,” said Choji, linking one of his pinkies with yours, and the other with Jo’s.

“Okay,” you breathed. “Sounds perfect.”

-

“Hey, Choji?”

“Yeah, Kame?”

“Did you know someone here got a little jealous of you and Umemiya?” he drawled.

You shot him a look, as if to say, ‘don’t you dare.’

“Why?” Choji asked, oblivious to the silent eye conversation you and Jo were having.

Jo gave you a slow, lazy smile. “It’s cause you bit him. And maybe a certain someone wanted to feel your teeth too—”

“TOGAME JO I SWEAR TO GOD!”

“—Just a little lovebite—”

Before you could try to throttle the smirking man, Choji grabbed your arm. “I’ll bite you if you want! It wasn’t a lovebite with Ume-chan, of course, but cause I love you, it would be one with you!”

You buried your face in your hands. You couldn’t take the sincere look in his eyes. Over the blood rushing in your ears, you could hear Jo laughing at you both, deep chuckles that don’t make you any less flustered.

They were lucky you loved them, you thought, as Jo gave you a gentle, apologetic kiss to the lips, and Choji, loathe to be left out, gave each of you a firm peck (with a little bit of a bite to it).

(Truly, you were lucky they loved you too.)

[melodiousoblivionao3]

This is going to be long but I’m going to attach a quote from Tierna’s latest podcast appearance (good game with Sarah Spain) where she directly addresses the KA debacle. I think, as one of the only out queer players and a veteran, she answered very well, considering she’s probably not allowed to say everything since they are on a team together.

Tierna for captain. Read below.

SARAH: “There are some favorite players that aren't there, but one of the newer players has been getting different reactions from the fans than the majority of the team, and that's Korbin Albert. This is a real sticky, tough situation. I'm just wondering how you personally are dealing with both the public reaction to Korbin and sort of the internal response about her.”

TIERNA: “Yeah, I mean, I know, I think it's a difficult situation that has obviously affected me personally given what she was speaking on. I think that it is something that you have to learn as a young player, especially with the platform that you're given, is your beliefs or, you know, how you choose to express certain things is very public, and people do look and listen. And, you know, whether or not it's something that you grew up with or it was instilled upon you from a young age, and you might not know better, it is something that can hurt other people.

You know, I think that she has gone through a lot of learning since then, and she has to continue to do that. As we all do as humans, we have to learn from what we do in our lives and how people react to it and understand the hurt that we can cause. You know, I think that it's difficult, because as a team, we have always wanted to be very welcoming to all of our fans, to all players that walk through the locker room.

And so to have that in our space is very difficult. But, you know, I think I have always believed in the ability for people to learn and for people to change and to evolve. And that sometimes requires a very difficult experience, which I think this is that moment for her.

And so, you know, it's something that happens a lot in people's lives where they kind of come between a rock and a hard place, and you're like, OK, what am I going to do? Am I going to pick the left path or the right path? And, you know, it's up to her.

But, you know, I think that she's continuing to do that education, and it's important that she expresses that as she learns. So I think, you know, the ball's kind of in her court for that. But, yeah, I mean, it's been difficult.

It was difficult for me when it first happened. And it's been hard to hear how fans have been taking it because I feel like I want to be able to represent the queer community really well on this team. And so I want to have fans feel really welcome and feel like they can see themselves on this field, in this team.

And so I don't want there to be any sort of feeling that, you know, they are not welcome here. So, you know, I, again, I believe in people being able to evolve and being able to learn. And I'm not someone that's going to meet any sort of hate with hate.

So, you know, she is one of my teammates, and I respect that. And I, you know, respect her as a player. But, you know, it is something that you have to go through with life.

It's like you encounter and work with people that you don't always agree with. But that's, you know, something that you want to try and help people to change. You want to try and help them love.

And, you know, that's what we're trying to do.”

From Good Game with Sarah Spain: Leading with Love with Tierna Davidson, Jul 23, 2024

https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/good-game-with-sarah-spain/id1752100672?i=1000663063610

[meowmeowriley]

Elder Emo

Ghost had been lost in thought, planning out his lessons for the following day, when he'd passed a room in the barracks and faintly heard music. Paramore? Normally he'd hear rock, pop, or occasionally something in Japanese. Not emo. Not what he'd been expecting, but a pleasant little throwback for him. He smiled to himself as he made to walk away, taking a mental note to pull up his old playlist and get lost in nostalgia later. But then he caught a bit of the conversation happening in the room.

"No she didn't tell me what it was all for, I stole it, dipshit."

"Why does she need 700 different eyeliners?"

"Are they different? Or is she just a hoarder?"

"Nah, mate. Some are like sticks, crayons, others are liquid. This one says eyeliner, but it looks like the eyeshadow stuff."

"That eyeshadow stuff is useless. Comes off too easily."

The two men were crowded around one's bed, it had been littered with a bunch of makeup, and they didn't seem to know what each was for.

"This is stupid."

"You said you wanted to finally have your emo phase, this is where it starts." The second man picked up a bottle of liquid eyeliner and leaned in close to the mirror, posed to paint his lower waterline with it. Ghost could no longer keep quiet.

"That's a mistake." His voice cause both recruits to jump, scrambling to salute. He rolled his eyes, but returned the gesture, if only to release the two.

He approached the bed scattered with makeup. Ghost couldn't say that he'd ever spoke to either of them, but he'd be damned if he didn't set them on the right path before they fucked themselves over here. "The liquid is for around your eyes, gives a bolder look than the stick. It's not for your waterline, you'll give yourself an eye infection like that." He handed the first soldier his choice in liner from the menagerie before them. "The liquid is bolder, but it smears, not smudges. If you're going for emo, you'll want a smudged look, the stick is better. Lay it on thick, and use your fingers to spread it around and smudge it out. And if it says waterproof, believe it. You'll need makeup remover to get that off." He said that last bit pointedly. If it weren't for regs, he'd let them just leave it like he had. Day old eyeliner that you slept in after a concert always looked so much cooler than when it had been freshly applied, at least in his opinion. Then another thought occurred to him. "Who'd you steal all this from?"

"Uhm... my sister... sir." The first man admitted sheepishly.

"Hmmm." Better a sibling than another soldier. "Give it back. You're in the army. You've been issued war paint, use that." He shrugged. Then added "I do."

The pair were quiet, clearly still not quite sure what was happening. "As you were." Ghost nodded and started to take his leave.

The second cleared his throat. "Uh... ahem... any uh... any music recommendations?"

Ghost turned in the doorway. He thought for a moment, and then "Well, you're listening to Paramore. If you want music from the same time, there's always Hawthorne Heights or Blink-182. You want something heavier look into Breaking Benjamin. Or more upbeat go for All Time Low. If you want something newer, Twenty One Pilots just released some new songs, or there's TX2, who draws a lot of inspiration from the greats. That's a start."

Both men smiled. The first spoke up. "Thank you, sir. This'll be a lot easier with an elder emo around."

Elder emo? Who- oh. Ohhhhh. When? How did that happen? He wasn't supposed to make it this far. Huh.

"Anytime." He nodded as he left them. He tried not to let his emotions show as he made his way down the hall, but internally he was brimming with pride. He'd made it so much further than anyone had ever thought, especially himself. It took a couple of baby emo's for him to see it, but he'd made it. He was still here. Despite the odds.