#had to repost to fix the link but it works now :)

[westside-rot]

Therapy Hours

Pairing: husband!terry richmond x black fem!reader

Words: 3.7k words

Summary: Terry seeks comfort from the only person who can give it to him.

Notes: Minors DNI. Smut, oral: fem receiving (0ver-stimulation) and cursing. Light by my standards lol. I had to force myself to stop revising this so please forgive any errors. I'll find em eventually and fix it. 😭 In the future I plan on alternating between fluff and smut so the next one should be fluffy/angsty.

Here's a visual of the position used. Not quite the same but close enough 👀: *nsfw pic link* *link #2*

Also please don't repost this on any other sites. Reblogs/comments/likes make me happy.

Tags: @megamindsecretlair @melaninpov

Something isn’t right. You look over to the side and discover the space occupied by your husband is empty. He was there a moment ago, proud and silent in his admiration for you while you sat mesmerized by the view. This picnic was the culmination of a month-long struggle to find balance with work and each other. All you cared about was reconnecting with him in a garden straight out of a fairytale for as long as possible, forever if you had it your way. Now he was nowhere to be found.

You rationalize his absence by assuming he must’ve forgotten something in the car. Likely an item you’d noticed earlier and convinced yourself not to purchase. Satisfied with your answer you lay back on your thick cotton blanket face to the infinite stretch of blue, uninterrupted by clouds with your arms and legs stretched out in opposite directions as far they'll comfortably reach. That’s when you notice the dress you’d been wearing has somehow vanished as well.  You don’t bother pursuing logic this time. It’s beautiful outside and warmed to the ideal temperature for sunbathing. Now you’re a part of that beauty, perfectly made and carefree.

The sun’s warmth penetrates your brown skin and you relax into a gratified acceptance with your eyes closed and a smile on your face. A breeze grazes your skin. You part your legs to it exploration. It's subtle at first then harder as it sweeps up your legs and fixates on your intimate parts. You moan as your hips begin to move in a sensual dance interrupted by something you can’t name. Then you realize the golden reddish hue behind your eyelids is gone. It's dark, darker than it should be for the time of day. You find it impossible to care with so much pleasure running through your system. It doesn’t matter who or what is responsible for your predicament. They can keep you so long as they promise never to stop.

The unknown force answers with more delicious suction. It draws your body into a tight arch and pulls the breath from your lungs. Breathing is pointless where you’re headed. While your brain can’t fathom the destination, it doesn’t get in the way of supplication once you're finally pushed over the edge.  

"Terry..." You moan the name forever present in your heart and mind. His location is still unknown, you trust him to always find you.

"I’m here love." The voice is muffled. You recognize its owner the second you hear it.   The pleasurable void you’ve fallen into rematerializes as soft sheets against your back. Everything else gradually comes into focus, your husband's massive hands anchored on your waist, the prick of his facial hair as his tongue and lips move along your slick folds made warm by each labored breath he takes. Your eyes reset themselves forward as you attempt to reorient your place in the real world, a simple task made difficult by his unwillingness to pull his tongue from your drenched hole. Delirious but still guided by habit you manage to catch sight of the alarm clock on your nightstand. 3:00am.

"Shit…We have to be up in a few more hours--" Your hands act in contradiction to your words, pulling him in closer by the neck to keep him on the right spot. "Baby..."

"I know." He flattens his tongue against your clit and latches on. You realize he's responding to the urgency in your voice and not the truth you’re attempting to speak.

Where your first orgasm was tempered by your dream, the second attacks your senses at full force. His strong capable hands absorb the shock as they hold you in place.  It's several minutes before your thrashing subsides to gentle undulations from the heavy breaths passing through your body. His fingers knead the flesh around your waistline. Even though his lips are still dangerously close to your pussy you feel more like the wife he’s attempting to soothe and less like the midnight snack you've been made into. You melt among the pillows with your eyes closed one hand loosely cradling the back of his head, the other bent and draped across your face as he makes out with your inner thighs. It takes you a while to recover your voice, a little longer to remember what you intended to say next.

"What’s wrong papa? Did your regret for not playing with me earlier finally wake you up?”

He doesn’t speak right away. The answer reaches you in the silence long before his words give confirmation.

"I’d take regret over these dreams I keep having. They’re getting worse."

Six months ago, Terry nearly lost his life attempting to protect his cousin. His outer wounds have healed up nicely. It's the scars left on his soul that provoke your bloodlust. If you had your way those piece of shit cops would’ve received their karma long before the worst happened. Mike would be alive. The man you love, a man accustomed to sleeping peacefully by your side every night wouldn’t be routinely attacked by demons you couldn’t see.

Most nights you’re promoted to the role of big spoon. You hate the circumstances, but it settles the panic in your heart to hold your mountain of a man in your arms and grant him the protection he’s given you over the years. Tonight, he's found a different way to cope, a method worth keeping in your toolbelt even if it means resembling a zombie for the rest of the day.

"Baby I’m sorry. You should’ve woken me up." You reach down to massage his ears with both thumbs before attempting to bring him to eye level. He resists by nuzzling his face in your thigh.

"Technically I did wake you up." He mumbles, filtering kisses between increasingly labored breaths. The path his lips are taking force you into a conundrum. Press the issue or trust his methods. Brains weren’t meant to work this hard at this hour. It’s cruel and unfair when you realize Terry isn’t weighted down by the same predicament. Every time his breath passes over your sensitive lips you feel your logic slipping further away. He’s giving you a reason to forget and move on. You’re also his wife. The one person on this shitty planet he can always rely on, the only person crazy enough to sacrifice a third orgasm so close after the second to protect his heart from the lie he was attempting to maintain.

You find a compromise in the minute that passes, maybe two. It’s hard to separate the details when he’s making every attempt to bury his face in your pussy. You struggle to be assertive. It’s the desperation in your voice when you say his name that eventually gets him to lift his head.

The room is dark, the moonlight casts a glow across the top half of his face just enough to see his eyes. He reminds you of a sad puppy being chastised for something they don’t understand. The expression breaks your heart and makes you smile as you stroke his jawline, your upturned lips on full display to match his sad look.

“I need to make sure you’re okay and not telling me what you think I need to hear. We deal with this together. Not apart.”

He nods and turns his face into your hand to kiss your palm. There's an uncomfortable silence in the room, but you remain patient, resisting the urge to pry the answer from his now visibly tense body.

“I dreamed I lost you.” His delayed response is both a relief and heartbreaking as the previous dreams he’s shared replay in your mind. All include some variation of him being imprisoned. None include a happy ending for him or for Mike. Leaning down to kiss the top of his head, you mimic his vice like hold once he buries his face in your stomach.

Regret mixes with the anger you were already struggling to contain. It fills the room, ensnaring you in contradictory thoughts. Sit on his face to make you both feel better or do what Terry refused to and murder the men responsible for making him feel anything less than a hero, for desecrating the space in his heart reserved for the people he loved.  You could only really be mad at yourself for pressing the issue. Orgasms were a far better reward than listening to the gruesome details of your presumed demise. Given what he's been through your mind takes you to the worse possible options. You’re prepared to listen but aren’t sure how you'll get back to sleep afterward this.

"Nothing is going to happen to me." You soothe him with more kisses and tender reassurances. He answers with a tighter grip like he’s expecting something to challenge your words.

"We fought about everything…” He starts. You prepare for the story to get progressively worse. “One day you show up with some random ass light skinned fucker with a crooked hairline. I’m thinking he’s the new gardener only to find out you’re leaving me for him. You kicked me out. Had me sleeping in a tent in the backyard while some bum ass bitch wore my clothes and fucked my wife. Losing you is one thing. Losing you to a leprechaun who can’t grow a proper beard is bullshit."

 You were anticipating having your throat slashed or a hole torn in your chest by a monster you couldn’t outrun. This was somehow worse because Terry was dead serious yet nothing he said warranted a serious response.

"Ok, first of all, you’re light skinned too."

Clearly you were being tested and failing miserably. You'd taken a deep breath in the hopes of drawing something positive and meaningful into your thoughts. All you managed to do was bring up a past hilarious debate about him being caramel and not chocolate like he proclaimed himself to be. Terry’s head shot up like someone had lit a fire underneath him. You can feel him staring you down and instantly crack under the pressure.

"Be serious woman."

The poor man is clearly traumatized. You bite down on your cheek for his sake before giving him a direct view of your face, wide eyed and filled with doctored innocence that crumbles by the second. “I’m trying!” You fuss. “But you’re being awfully specific about this man's appearance."

"I saw the fucker clear as day like I’ve seen him before…I’m taking you to work. Might even stay just to be safe."

The conviction in his voice tells you not to brush off his words.  You can imagine him now posted up in your office surveying the area. He wouldn’t hover or say much, his domineering presence and chiseled muscles on full display would guarantee no woman within a 30-mile radius was productive. You would be at the top of the list. Unlike half the women in your office you had zero decorum in your husband’s presence. The last thing you needed were your colleagues gossiping about you getting fucked in your office.

"My dear sweet husband aren’t you being a little unreasonable?” Posing the question in a song doesn’t have the desired effect. It merely gives him a reason to frown harder.

"Hell no. I’m not taking anything for granted anymore, especially when it pertains to you. Far as I’m concerned this was a message from God to protect my home.”

There’s plenty to laugh at. Even less to challenge. You were looking at your answered prayer, a literal message from God to prove men like Terry weren’t a fantasy. This one was real and more than you could’ve hoped for. In honor of that gift you smile and nod in agreement and prepare to be followed everywhere.

“I can’t say you’re wrong. I can tell you no one at work fits the description.” He ponders while you stroke his neck. He isn’t silent for long.

“He could be a new security guard or the person delivering the mail."

"Mhm, I could forgive the wrinkles in a UPS uniform. Something about those brown shorts makes me feral. I’m getting wet thinking em." The laugh you’ve been holding sputters from you, putting tears in your eyes.

Terry sucks his teeth and gestures to raise up completely. He doesn’t get far when you throw your arms around his neck. He grunts but lets you have your way. "It's not funny."

"You’re right baby. It's not.  Dream me is a dumb ass bitch. I’d never leave you, especially not for an obviously unattractive man with tiny feet and a crooked hair line. You’re so pretty daddy. No one with sense would ever look anywhere else." You lean forward to coax a smile from him with a kiss. You feel his jaw loosen and his fingers grip up your ass. "I love you."

All the humor in your voice is gone, replaced with an unmistakable sincerity that eases Terry back to the calm levelheaded man he's always been. "You’re taking the necessary steps to heal. It's not something you'll ever forget but you’re going to be okay. We both are. The fact we can laugh about any of this is progress. Now I’ll promise to keep my sidepiece out the house you pay bills in if you promise not to stalk me from the parking lot."

He chuckles. "Promise."

It's nearly 4am. In two more hours you'll have to be up for work. Hardly enough time for a decent rest but your body will hate you if you don’t try to get back to sleep. You kiss your husband one last time and gently lay a hand on his chest to pull away only to be met with resistance.

"Wait. I still need to prove it to myself."

"Prove what baby?"

“That you won’t give up on me. That I won’t lose you." He speaks against your lips, his voice moving through you like the low rumble before a storm. It stirs up the lust cast aside for his benefit. You feel it in your belly and everywhere his tongue has been.  The energy in the room changes with the dark look in his eyes. He drinks you in saying nothing and everything with his calculated gaze. Awareness pricks at your skin off the strength of his possession moves. Then his hands are on you, lowering your arms from around his neck to your sides. He seizes your waist and hums as if contemplating something. Before you can ask the question, you lose the words in the swift rearrangement on to your stomach. You gasp from the shock while the rest of you uses all your energy to push against the sturdy fingers holding your wrists down. Freedom isn’t your goal. You resist solely to reinforce his dominance and feed your desire to test his nature. You want him to stake his claim and issue a warning to anyone daring to look in your direction even if the rival in question is a phantom conjured up by his subconscious.

Handcuffs aren’t an option for obvious reasons. You wonder if binding your hands together with rope will achieve the same shuddering response to being cloaked with his weight. You’re completely helpless and content to stay right where you are, one with mattress, one with him.

"Say you'll never leave me." His warm breath passes over your ear before his teeth sink down on flesh.

"I'll never leave you." You whisper back, moaning appreciatively when he kisses down the column of your neck down between your shoulder blades. His hands aren’t pinning you down anymore, but you try your best not to move as his tongue traces a warm and agonizingly slow line down your spine to your ass.

"I’ve never taken a life. I will if it means keeping you safe…You belong to me " Terry had taken down an entire police force without sending anyone to hell where they belonged. It was comical to think a man she never met; a man who didn’t exist could provoke him to use lethal force. The unexpected sting of teeth clamping down on your backside jolts you out of your musing. He's fully awake now, unfettered by slumber and past traumas. He doesn’t need to be gentle or ask for permission. The pain from that discovery offers an indescribable contribution to the pleasure you’ve experienced thus far. You can’t distinguish the two anymore the harder he bites.

"Yes." It's an reiteration and an apology for earlier all wrapped up in jarring acceptance. This isn’t the man you fell asleep next to hours ago. You aren’t the same either. His influence has unlocked a part of your brain that craves the pain and the pleasure it brings. If branding you with his teeth will bring him peace you want that too.

You moan and arch toward your captor’s mouth. He answers the invitation with a growl, yanking you on to your knees, driving your face into the comforter to deepen the arch in your back. You’re already spread obscenely open. He spreads you further with his thumbs and stops moving. He’s probably smiling in that subtle way you catch when he thinks no one’s watching. This isn’t quite the same. He's taunting you with proximity, close enough to feel the heat from his breath, far enough away to create an ache only he could soothe.

"Please." He's reduced you to this, folded in half and shameless in your attempts to reach his mouth. When he does finally lick his way inside everything else in the world melts away.

He's merciful but also deliberate in the way flattens the wide breadth of his tongue along the length of you, slurping you up like ripe fruit he intends to savor. All you can do is shudder and mewl as he groans into your slick heat, rubbing his face in it, masking himself with your scent. The message isn’t for you. It's for him. You hope it soothes the disquiet in his heart the way it's cleared out the baggage in your mind. All thoughts lead back to him, the thorough way he draws tight circles over your clit and the depths he reaches as he simulates the way he would fuck you if he had the willpower to trade places with his tongue.

He makes himself comfortable, stretching out his legs alongside your writhing body. His ankles provide a stable anchor for trembling hands. Then they’re caging you in, limiting your range of movement.

The sheets absorb your screams as you cum without warning and no sign it’ll end any time soon. You push toward his face at the same rate you pull away. Escape isn’t the goal. It's the only proper response to sensory overload. Indescribably good and too much to handle all at once. Terry is right there with you, latched on and undeterred by your frenetic movements, grunting indecipherable praise despite the pressure your thighs have placed on his ears.  At this rate you’re going to claw the sheets to shreds or beat a hole in the mattress. Then he's putting his entire body into it, crossing his ankles behind your head to lock you in place.

Weeks ago, you expressed an interest in learning Jiu-Jistu. You expected detailed commentary while you observed from the sidelines or watched a video. This wasn’t how you envisioned your first lesson or any lesson. You weren’t even sure if this was a legit move or something he’d improvised. The absurdity of it doesn’t register correctly in your mind. Instead you’re grateful, grateful for his strength, for his persistence, for his ability to find healing through forced orgasms even it’s obvious he’s lost his mind in the process. Unlike the dream version you take your vows seriously. You accept Terry at his best and his worst, through nightmares and a demonic possession. 

Panic opens your mind to a ridiculous thought. He's going to kill you.  The irrational part of your brain is convinced you won’t survive another orgasm. You can’t bring yourself to resist the rapid strumming on your clit and the spike in pleasure it produces. You’d gladly give your life for it. Leave earth with a smile on your lips and a memory worth immortalizing in the afterlife. To call your bluff Terry brings his thumb from your fluttering hole to the soft flesh of your ass.  He prolongs the suspense with teasing swipes around the rim then very slowly pushes through your defenses when he feels you’re ready for it. Something in your brain malfunctions. You start to whine like a caught animal. They’re the kind of sounds you’d find embarrassing if you weren’t in the presence of a grown ass man.

The last thing you hear before you explode is Terry’s deep voice in your ear. "Good girl."

When you return to consciousness, you’re still face down with a damp spot under your cheek and under your pelvis. Terry is stretched across your back crooning in your ear about how proud he is of you, how beautiful you are, how in love with you he is. His touch is equally soothing as he trails down your forearms to interlock your fingers. You haven’t stopped trembling. It’s worse in your legs. Even the slightest movement revives the memory of where his tongue has been. You find comfort in the fetal position anyway. Terry is right there to reinforce the hold, cradling you with his entire body so he doesn’t lose you in the subspace you’ve drifted off to. When the consequence of his overindulgence subsides to a light shudder you feel his coiled lips at your temple.

“Are you proud of yourself?”  

“Maybe.” He drawls, the pride evident in his voice. “You’re still shaking baby. Are you good? Did I hurt you?

“Of course you didn’t. I’m a little floaty but I kinda want you to break me again--just to make sure I like it.” You offer a lazy smile and reach back to scratch his cheek. "What about you? Are you finally convinced I won’t run off with your ugly ass replacement?”

His laughter sounds like music.  You wonder how he can find the joy in anything with his stiff dick left unattended and drooling precum on your backside. It’s all you can think about now.

"I am."

"Good because it’s never going to happen. I’m also not going to work today. I can’t function like this." Despite your predicament you use the distraction to your advantage and raise your thigh to accommodate him. A little maneuvering slots the tip between your lips but doesn't quite make it inside. You whimper and try again.

“No. You’ve had enough sweetheart.” You’re more than a little disappointed when he pushes your legs shut. 

“I can keep going. Let me take care of you.”

“You have taken care of me baby.” A kiss is all it takes to end your pouting. Like a greedy brat, you twist around to claim another, then one more to sample your flavor on his lips. His dick stirs against you, it doesn’t persuade him to be anything less than noble. “I plan on keeping you in this bed all day.  Get some rest. I’ll have you later.”

Terry’s demeanor remains unchanged as he realigns your back to his chest and slips is muscled leg over your restless ones. He’s given you a preview, a reminder, and a warning. You aren’t sure how well you’ll sleep knowing what you know but you snuggle up to his arm tucked beneath the pillow.

“I love you.”

Those three words calm the restlessness in your heart and get you to shut your eyes. 

"I love you too handsome. Try not to dream about me."

[ink-n-shadow]

hear me out: demon!ghost finding broken angel!reader...

BROKEN DOVE

𝜗𝜚 the one where ghost is a demon and finds a pretty little broken angel

𝜗𝜚 pairing: broken angel!reader x demon!ghost 𝜗𝜚 cw: mature themes (no smut but minors still DNI), stalking elements, gn!reader (no explicit gendered elements used) 𝜗𝜚 link to all my works in the demon!ghost au can be found here

…like just imagine a young little fledgling like you, one of your ivory wings crumpled beneath your arm and missing feathers as you stumble through a field of human flowers and foliage. your face is icy with the frost of tears on your cheeks, eyes downcast to watch the flattening tulips and roses beneath your toes.

until you notice the dark shadow lurking behind you, close enough to smell the Hell’s fire on his skin and to hear the way his footsteps sizzle the foliage beneath him.

you don’t see him until his forked tongue is flicking against the shell of your ear gently, his husky voice cutting through the cacophony of twittering of birds and cicadas.

“all alone, huh?” he’d whisper in your ear, making you whip around to confront the stranger only to be met with the empty field behind you. but a hot hand to your broken wing makes you turn back around, only to be forced to face away from him with a beefy arm around your body. “and a broken wing too? tch, how’re you gonna get home now, little one?”

and you had heard about demons from the other angels, but they were always fables in your brain, stories told to little fledglings like you to keep you from becoming fallen. after all, demons were just fallen angels, right?

but now they were all too real, and now you had one purring in your ear, promising to fix your little wing with his bare hands if you agreed to take a little trip down with him.

and how could you refuse?

©️ ink-n-shadow 2024

do not copy, plagiarize, steal, borrow, or repost any of my work without my expressed permission

[atalldrinkofcaprisun]

Don’t Wait For Me After I’m Gone (pt. 2)

silco x gn!reader - he didn’t die AU - tw: canon compliant violence, drug use - 18+

howdy!!! reposted and edited again! I’m having trouble with all of the links so sorry they’re not super functional right now. But anyways, I MISS MY WIFE TAILS!!

also on ao3 xx masterlist

The screaming was the worst part. You had been posted outside of The Doctor’s underground laboratory/cave for three hours now, under the orders not to enter unless you wanted to be sedated until the procedure was over.

When the Scientist arrived at the factory, he had started work immediately. The bullets nimbly extracted and quickly stitched, his hand feebly squeezing your own when he could. You had pressed kisses to his damp temples and pushed hair out of his face, back into his rumpled style. He’d even notice sometimes but it was clear he was in agony.

“It is good you kept that with you,” The Doctor nodded his head towards the injector lying cracked on the floor towards the far wall. You had thrown it off as soon as it had emptied, “He would have been unreachable if you had not administered the medicinal serum. It gave him just enough to hold on.”

“So, he’s going to be okay?” You asked, trying to give that little flame of hope in your chest something to fuel itself.

“He will survive, yes. Survival at least.” the bandaged man replied cryptically before returning his full attention to Silco, “I suggest making plans to move him to safety. Your opponents will be hunting for you soon if they haven’t started already.” He’d put a hand on your shoulder, “I know where they will not find you.”

Shortly afterwards, you had sprinted all the way back to The Last Drop. Exhausted and shaking, you’d only managed a stammering, “Silco. He’s- the warehouse…” before promptly passing out into Ran’s arms. You’d woken up in your bed, apparently you had only been out about 20 minutes.

Now, here you stood, arms crossed and leaning against a rough stone wall. Your nails dug into your skin, trying to center yourself. You couldn’t leave, not when he was in pain. Jinx had been permitted in. Whatever had transpired between Jinx and The Doctor had created a new trust. You had wanted to protest but when Jinx set Silco down on the examination table and sat quietly in a chair in the corner, her eyes not moving from Silco, you had surrendered. Jinx needed to know her father wasn’t going to be one more thing to haunt her. You could keep watch this time.

Sevika was elsewhere getting her arm fixed once again, and keeping all of the intelligence open for signs of what had been happening in Piltover. She’d headed back to The Drop. Running Zaun directly or alone had never been something you wanted. Especially now, with the love of your life still in danger of being lost forever, and your child being the cause on top of whatever had been done to her-

There came another string of rambles, ranging from terror to agony to anger. Occasionally you would hear The Doctor muttering. You could feel the wave of emotions settle between your shoulders, winding up the muscles like snakes tensing to bite. You needed a distraction.

Threats were going to be coming from all sides. Jinx had officially crossed the carefully toed line of impertinent interference that Silco had perfected. You didn’t know what the aftermath of the missile had been, and it didn’t take a genius to guess. A part of you didn’t care. Fuck the Topsiders for needing to be brought to the battlefield. Still, you couldn’t ignore the stiffness setting in your arms and neck, your hands clenched into fists as tears began to resurface.

Another moan of pain, this one low and mournful… your name again. You covered your ears and tried to fight the urge to bust through the door.

Fuck it. You’d rather be sedated then hear one more second of this without being able to help. Hands flew to the door handle of their own accord, but were met with the empty air as the door opened first.

Jinx’s pink eyes bore into your own, flat, “Doc say you can come in. Apparently he’s though the worst. Dad’ll- be okay.” She sounded completely drained.

You gathered Jinx in a tight hug, wanting to offer any sort of comfort you could, “He’s going to understand. We’ve been so worried about you, Blue.”

“I killed him.” She mumbled into your shoulder, “I almost-”

“But you didn’t,” you pulled back to look in her eyes, your hands pushing her bangs off of her forehead to finally get a good look. She was so pale now, worse than before, almost spectral. Her freckles and dark makeup only making her appear more sickly, she was smeared with dirt and blood and crusted tears. Her eyes weren’t glowing anymore, but their pale blue had been consumed by the eery magenta of Shimmer. “He knows how much you’re struggling. He isn’t dead. It was an accident. He knows that.”

Jinx didn’t look convinced, only lifting your arms off of her and pushing past into the fissures beyond, “I just need to be alone.“ She turned before she crossed behind the faint lantern glow, “You know where to find me,” and then she was gone.

You waited, letting the compulsion to run after her and comfort her dissolve for a later time. If anything would be able to get through to Jinx it would be Silco himself. In order for him to get the chance, however, you needed to make sure Silco would stay alive. Jinx was smart, and knew when and how to lay low. She would be alright for a few hours. With a deep breath and you headed into the attached cavern.

“Doctor, Is he-“ your gaze mimed fixated on the disheveled and miserable man strapped to the gurney. At the sound of your voice Silco’s eyes landed on you, relief washing over his expression the moment he processed what he was seeing. “Thank Jannah, Sil,” you sighed, stepping and crossing the space. Your hand fell into his, fitting perfectly into his palm, warm and alive and responsive. With a smile you took your free hand and pushed the strands of charcoal and ash hair out of his face, “Hey there, handsome.” You beamed.

The once bright orange iris, now matching his daughter’s pink hue, was scanning along your features, relief washing over the face you had come to love more than you had ever thought possible. His pale blue eye was just as intently looking at you, but his eyelid hung heavy with exhaustion, “What’s a creature like you,” his voice was strained and low, rumbling out of his chest more than his throat, “doing in a place like this?”

Your mind played the first time he had said that to you as you grinned, “That line is still too cheesy to work.”

“Better than the look you gave me when I said it then.” He hummed as your hand moved from his hair to brush his cheek, “Did I ever tell you it was Jinx’s idea?”

“To try and hit on me after saving my life or?” You laughed lightly.

“To tell you,” he wheezed for a second as a flare of purple raced up his skin and into his damaged iris, “ah, how pretty you looked.” You pressed a kiss to his cheek and the pain seemed to become just a little less.

“So you settled on calling me a creature?” You scoffed teasingly.

“Is now the time for such, frivolous things?” The Doctor’s tone was annoyed as he cut in. He started undoing the straps holding Silco down, and he motioned for you to help him.

You looked at the scientist with one brow raised as Silco sighed, “I’ve nearly died today. It makes a man think about things… differently,” his gaze didn’t move from your face, like he was studying it for the first time. You were used to his staring habit, but this felt different. Maybe it was the drugs, “so beautiful,” he muttered so low, he probably hadn’t even noticed he’d said it.

“Shut up, old man,” you smiled, “Save your breath.”

The Doctor moved to your side of the table, batting you away as he began to unstrap his arm and head. Which was only fair since you hadn’t even started to undo the buckle. Your hand slipped away from Silco’s and you immediately missed the feeling. The anxiety that boiled in your stomach was vicious and your skin seemed to itch with the need to continue to make sure Silco was truly alive and real, on the mend and going to survive. Once the kingpin was free, the Doctor took his pulse, then gently helped him rise to a sitting position. His face contorted with the pain but eased as he breathed through it. At last, Doc looked towards you and nodded, giving his permission, you could fully take in your paramour.

Silco’s left arm was protectively hugged around his bandage wrapped torso, his smoldering eye still pulsing pink as was it’s seafoam counterpart. His hair was haphazard and his makeup smeared away long ago, the ashen skin of his scar visible in large smudges. You wrapped your arms around him as gently as you could manage, still causing him to hiss ever so slightly. His heartbeat thumped away under your ear, protected in his rib cage, fast and a little irregular. His smell was tainted with blood and sweat but it was still him. His free arm pulled you closer, his nose resting on top of your head. Together you breathed. Just for a moment that to you, felt like the exact eternity you needed to find your voice.

“Don’t ever scare me like that again.”

He chuckled deep in his chest, “I promise to try and not make it a habit, my lovely.”

You only burrowed further into his arms in reply. Your home was here. Safely by Silco’s side, in his arms, breathing and basking in the gift of having more time. Just as the tension had begun to ease from your shoulders Silco spoke again, “Where is Jinx? Is she alright?”

You met his gaze, “She’s… upset. She didn’t mean to kill you. I think she’s headed back to her lab. I wanted to go with her but…”

“But you needed to make sure I would be alright first.” He gently finished and ran a hand through your hair, “Thank you for saving me. Now we’re officially even.” He let his fingertips stroke your cheek, “We need to get to Jinx. I need to tell her I forgive her.”

“You won’t be able to walk on your own yet, old friend.” The Doctor spoke up again from his desk across the room, apparently he had returned to his more important projects, “Your body is still processing the serum. You don’t have your daughter’s vitality.”

Silco frowned over at the old scientist, “I think I can manage. And anyways,” he looked down at you, “I won’t be alone.”

You nodded, and stepped out of his embrace to help him down and onto his feet. As he touched the stone floor however, his legs seemed to buckle and he fell onto you heavily with a grunt of pain. You caught him and let him get his grip on the edge of the gurney. His teeth grinding as he pulled himself upwards, “Sil? Are you-?”

“It’s fine.” The ever stubborn Eye of Zaun commanded. The Doctor and you shared a quick look.

You knew he was lying but he had more pressing concerns than his own comfort at the moment, “Can you?” he gestured vaguely around himself. Asking for help was still not something he was completely comfortable with, but you knew what he meant.

You shifted around him, so one of your arms was around his midsection, the other was holding his hand as his own arm swept over your shoulders. Jinx’s Lab and The Last Drop were a bit of a walk away. The Doctor, grumbling all the while, retrieved a cane from some depths of his caverns and gave you what doses Silco might need if he took a sudden turn. With measured steps you began to lead Silco to the door. Just before you crossed the threshold, Silco tugged and stopped, “Thank you, Doctor. My family owes you a great debt.”

A stiff and matter of fact “I know.” was the only reply he received.

Silco pressed a kiss to your temple and together you set off.

[uceyliyahh]

SNEAKY LINK

Summary: After having a one night stand with each other Kiyana and Jey decided to become sneaky links until she grew attached to him will he be able to feel the same as her?

smut warning; it’ll come in the story randomly so PLEASE PLEASE look out for it I’m not really good at writing ✍🏽 smuts but I’m improving at the moment.

Jey Uso x Kiyana

word count: 5590

AWFUL GRAMMAR IM GETTING BETTER I SWEAR LOL.

comments, likes, repost are appreciated I would love the constructive feedback in what area I need to approve in. 🤍

ALSO! I don’t not want nobody stealing my fanfics or take it as theirs that will be an issue fasho so keep it cute respectfully.

I only own my OC along with the make up scenarios

But I’ll be writing along the way since this story is in my drafts on Wattpad right now so yuh. 💁🏽‍♀️

TAGS ⬇️ lmk if you wanna be tag 🏷️@pinkwithhearts @420days @jstarr86 @empressdede @angiedawn02 @biancasreign @clubsoft @bloodlineee1

@bebesobrielo @skyesthebomb @aikosilo @papireigns-05 @punksyeet @paigereeder @magnificentbouquetmusic @tribalhoochie

@charmed-dreamssss @fearlesschimera @partypoison00 @mselenalovebug @bloodlinesbabe93 @justazzi @xbriexx @luvrsluxe @celesteheartsjey @4milly @luuvprincess @yyaktayak @yana3sworld @raya-hunter01 @lilucey @soccergirlbae

Ø5

"I miss you so much mama,"

"I need you, I want you, I fucking need you."

"you can't avoid him forever Kiyana"

"you could never be like her Jaida, never,"

OMNISCIENT Kiyana has taken the past few months to prioritize herself and her career after ending her connections with Jey and Aaron. In the past, she would often receive beautiful bouquets of roses from Jey, accompanied by heartfelt notes expressing his longing for her. While these gestures would bring a smile to her face, she now places the flowers on her dresser, a reminder of a different time, as she immerses herself in her work.

She was aware that he was reserving a flight to Indianapolis for the Royal Rumble tonight, so she aimed to stay as connected as possible, secretly watching him on the big screen.

She hasn't heard from Aaron since that night he collapsed on her porch a few months back. It's clear he hopes to stay out of her sight, especially now that her career is flourishing.

He often arrived at her home, making subtle threats and offhand remarks that left her feeling unsafe. This persistent behavior forced Kiyana to seek a restraining order against him. Meanwhile, she was busy with her bikini photoshoots, confidently wearing a sleek black biking two-piece paired with stylish heels, surrounded by other women in the same space.

Nathan expertly captured every striking pose and beautiful angle of her, showcasing her unmatched beauty and charisma. As he snapped away, Patrice approached Kiyana, holding another bouquet of roses, clearly a gift from Jey.

She grabbed the card and examined it carefully.

'I know it's been a couple of months since we last seen each other but I miss you like really fucking miss you Imma be in the royal rumble tonight and was hoping to see you there I got you a ticket for it so please I hope I can see you,' Love - Joshua 💗

She realized that the ticket was included with the note, and given that it was a first-class fare, it was clear he was genuinely invested in her visiting him. Spending that much money on a first-class ticket to Indy showed just how much he wanted her there.

Nathan approached her, noticing her gaze fixed on the ticket Jey had given her. He gently tapped her on the shoulder, causing her to flinch momentarily before turning to face him. "goodness Nate can't be scaring folks like that," Kiyana said as Nathan chuckle at her.

"My bad girl, I was just checking in on you seems like you have a lot on your mind," He claimed that he was the sole individual who could recognize when something was amiss with her, even more so than Patrice.

"Can I be honest?" Nathan nodded his head leaning against the dresser listening to her attentively as Kiyana sighed deeply, "I miss him Nate, I miss his presence his touch. Everything about him,"

She made the difficult decision to distance herself from him for a few months, prioritizing her own well-being and career. Despite the separation, thoughts of him frequently occupied her mind, and she found herself hoping he was thriving. Yet, it seemed clear that he was missing her just as deeply as she missed him.

She found herself torn about whether to meet him again. Doubts clouded her mind as she questioned if she could ever trust him after the way he had played with her emotions during their time together. The uncertainty weighed heavily on her, especially after she had revealed her true feelings for him, crossing a line she had vowed to uphold.

"But you have been doing so good without him what's changed Yana?"

"Maybe after Aaron threatened me or him showing up at my house banging on the door like a crazy maniac," she said she was having that sense of Jey being there to protect her but realizing that he wasn't there to do so.

She let out another deep sigh, her fingers tangling in her hair as frustration washed over her. "I really don’t know, Nate. He wants me to visit him in Indy. Should I go?" Her gaze was fixed on the ticket, noting that the flight didn’t depart until four in the afternoon, which meant she would have plenty of time to pack a few essentials once she got home.

He gently tapped her on the back and said, "Be truthful with yourself. Do you truly want to see him? I mean, deep down in your heart, is that what you really want? Just take a moment to reflect on it, alright?" Kiyana nodded as Nathan stepped away from the dresser, giving her space to ponder his words.

She genuinely wanted to back him, just as he had stood by her during her first runway show a few months back. However, she needed to take a moment to consider her decision before the clock hit four.

uceyjucey, americannightmarecody, trinity_fatu, and others liked your post.

yanasworld: a definition of perfection 🤍 uceyjucey: fuck 😩 trinity_fatu: ouuu girl you look good and a certain someone misses you👀 yanasworld: @ trinity_fatu I know americannightmarecody: hope you're coming tonight sis yanasworld: @ americannightmarecody Ofcc brother gotta come and support you 💗 jaidaparker_wwe: this is what he dumped me for? yanasworld: @ jaidaparker_wwe 🤷🏽‍♀️🤷🏽‍♀️ don't know nun about that honey aaron_ pierre1: answer my fucking calls Kiyana yaonlylivonce: she's taking it honey! yanasworld: @ yaonlylivonce thank you bestie butt 💗

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Kiyana was on her way to the airport in an Uber, glancing at the clock and noting it was three-thirty. She felt a surge of hope that she would arrive in time for her flight to Indy. Determined to be there for him, she was also eager to support her brother and best friend on this important journey.

Kiyana arrived at the airport, pulling her luggage from the trunk as she made her way into the terminal. Approaching the reception desk, she handed over her ticket with a sense of anticipation.After checking in her luggage and presenting her ticket to the attendant, Kiyana proceeded to Gate B, ready to pass through security. She knew the routine well, preparing for the scan to ensure she was all set for her journey ahead.

She quickly gathered her belongings and glanced at the time once more, expressing her gratitude to the lady as she made her way to her flight. Fortunately, it wasn't too far away, and she noticed other passengers already boarding the plane. She joined the line, ready for her ticket to be scanned.

As Kiyana stepped onto the plane, she quickly scanned her ticket, ensuring she was in the right place. She made her way to the back, where her first-class seat awaited her. This meant she could unwind and enjoy a glass of wine, a perfect way to calm her nerves before takeoff.

Kiyana was on the verge of missing her flight to Indy, all for the chance to see this man. Can you really blame her? It had been months since their last encounter, and now he was pleading for her to visit.

The first-class seats resembled luxurious beds, and as she surveyed her fellow passengers with similar first-class tickets, she felt a sense of excitement. Upon locating her seat, she noticed a plush pillow waiting for her, signaling that a restful sleep was just moments away.

She settled into the cozy mini bed, shedding her coat to escape the recent chill, and began scrolling through her social media. As she did, she noticed that Jaida had shared something on her story, hinting that she was venting about an issue.

As she was still trying to gather her thoughts, a flight attendant approached her, presenting a bottle of fresh Stella Rose wine. With a graceful pour, she filled a wine glass and handed it to her, enhancing the moment with a touch of elegance.

She expressed her gratitude to the flight attendant before returning to investigate the reason behind Jaida's social media meltdown.

jaidaparker_wwe posted on their story!

To her astonishment, it appeared that Jey had ended their relationship prior to the Royal Rumble tonight. But what could be the reason? Was it out of guilt for how he had treated Kiyana, making her feel insignificant, or did he genuinely desire to be with her instead?

Kiyana has finally grasped the meaning behind Jaida's comment on her latest post. Initially, she brushed it off without much thought, but now it resonates with her. While she wishes she could feel upset about it, deep down, Kiyana realizes that he simply wasn't interested in her.

The pilot announced that we were ready for takeoff and reminded everyone to switch their phones to airplane mode until we reached Indianapolis. Kiyana followed the instructions, settling into her seat and pulling the covers snugly around her. As she relaxed, her eyelids grew heavy, and she soon drifted off into a peaceful slumber.

༊*·˚ Kiyana sat in her hotel room at the Marriott, eagerly anticipating the arrival of her best friend Liv. It had been far too long since they last connected, and she was excited to catch up on everything. As she waited, her phone buzzed with a text from an unknown number. Curiosity piqued, she opened the message and read it carefully, realizing it was from Jaida.

unknown number sent a message

unknown number: you're such a whore, you think that you're better than me?

Kiyana was shocked by Jaida's message. How could she be labeled the promiscuous one when he was the one who made the first move?

IMESSAGE 💬 Yana💗:  first off he came onto me and it went off from there unknown number: did you know he was with me? Yana💗: yeah, but it seemed like he wasn't fucking with you like how he was with me 🤷🏽‍♀️ unknown number: bitch I will fuck you up Yana💗: honey  you need to br worry about yourself instead of me aight? I've been call things off with him so you can leave me the fuck alone unknown number: unfortunately not if he ended things with me Yana💗: that sounds like a you problem ma'am so how about you stop playing on my phone and tread lightly m'kay?

Kiyana was just setting her phone down on the bed when a knock echoed through her room. Curiosity piqued, she made her way to the door. Upon opening it, she was greeted by the sight of her best friend, Liv, engrossed in her phone. Liv looked up, her face lighting up with a smile, and they immediately embraced in a warm, tight hug, sharing a moment of joy.

"Oh my gosh, I missed you so much. Girl you gotta catch me up on what's been happening," Liv said.

Kiyana closes the door after Liv, and they both settle onto the bed, eager to catch up on all the events that have unfolded since their last meeting.

"You been doing okay bestie?" She asked her.

Kiyana needed to confront her true feelings; she wasn't alright after all that had transpired in recent months. The situation with Jey weighed heavily on her mind, and she found herself increasingly longing for his presence.

Kiyana let out a heavy sigh, "I really miss him, Liv. I can't understand why I'm feeling this way about someone I can't even have," she expressed, her frustration evident as Liv grasped her hands. "You know, I've been chatting with Jey—he's my close friend—and it honestly seems like he misses you even more than you realize. That Jaida Parker girl has really affected him," Kiyana's expression turned to one of confusion at Liv's words.

"What do you mean?"

"I'm saying that ever since so cut things off with him Jaida has been coming around more, being clingy. Or bitchy whenever she didn't get her way with things it just been a mess,"

Kiyana was unaware of the unfolding events after she ended her relationship with Jey. However, she recognized the importance of prioritizing her own well-being, even if it meant enduring pain for a few months. The lingering doubt about whether she could ever trust him again weighed heavily on her, especially knowing that he had a tendency to manipulate her emotions.

"I don't know Liv, what if I just be like a dummy all over again losing myself because of him," Kiyana said.

"Answer me this Yaya what made you come all the way over to Indy? Because I know that you're here for one reason and that reason is Jey, he asked you to come see him. He was begging," Liv said.

Kiyana wasn't mistaken; she genuinely wanted to visit him. His words were so persuasive, expressing how much he missed her and how much he needed her support. Yet, she couldn't shake the doubt about just how deeply he felt her absence. "I came to support him, and that was my only intention."

Liv gave her that one look knowing that she was lying about her coming out to "support" him.

Kiyana missed him

She missed his lips onto hers whenever they kissed

She missed him protecting her

She even missed how their bodies were close together never leaving each other alone.

"Just think about bestie before the show starts tonight okay? I gotta go love you," she said as her and Liv hugged each other since Liv had to go back to Lucas Oil to get ready for tonight.

Kiyana sank onto the bed, her head resting against the soft pillow as she gazed up at the ceiling. Thoughts swirled in her mind about the conversation she just had with Liv. Perhaps Liv was onto something; maybe he truly missed her just as much, if not more, than she missed him.

Perhaps he was merely saying all of that to Liv to capture Kiyana's attention. Regardless of his intentions, it lingered in her mind for a moment.

Kiyana glanced at her phone and realized it was almost time to leave for the show. Determined to secure her front-row seats for the Royal Rumble, she quickly decided to get ready for an unforgettable night.

Out of the blue, her phone chimed, indicating a new message. As she picked it up from the counter, she noticed that both Jey and her brother Cody had sent her texts.

Big Papa😩 sent a message BigBrother 💪🏼 sent a message

Kiyana unlocked her phone using Face ID, eager to catch up on her messages. A few months back, after ending things with Jey and Aaron, she had deleted both of their numbers, believing they would simply move on. However, she quickly realized she was mistaken, as her phone buzzed with a flood of texts from Jey.

Aaron occasionally sent menacing messages, but she remained unfazed by them.

Big Papa😩: mamas I miss you so much

The urge to reply to him, expressing just how much she missed him as well, was overwhelming, yet she forced herself to pretend she hadn’t seen his message while she responded to her brother instead.

BigBrother💪🏼: I heard you made it to Indy safe did you need me to come get you at the hotel?

IMESSAGE 💬 Yana💗: I was about to head out right now so that I could get my seats BigBrother💪🏼: seats? Yana yk you're more than welcome to come backstage to watch it on the big screen right? Yana💗: yeah but yk I'm tryna avoid him BigBrother💪🏼: Yana...you can't be avoiding Jey forever he looks miserable Yana💗: Jesus not you too did he come talk to you? BigBrother 💪🏼: yes he did actually talk to me about you since I am your big brother ofc Yana💗: probably told you what he told Liv Cody... BigBrother💪🏼: Yana listen to me you and him just need to talk things out maybe you both need that closure that yall always wanted maybe just maybe yall could turn it into something if you just start talking to him Yana💗: Cody.... BigBrother💪🏼: you lost your virginity to him and now you have to face him Yana stop running away and just talk to him for me can you do that?

Kiyana realized her brother was correct; she needed to find the closure essential for moving forward in her life. Perhaps they could even begin anew and take their time, but uncertainty lingered in her mind.

Deep down, she understood that fleeing from him would only exacerbate the situation. This had always been her pattern—avoiding her problems since childhood and continuing into adulthood. Cody would be the first to point this out to her.

Yana💗: alright alright, I'll talk to him just for you though since you asked BigBrother💪🏼: good, now can I come pick you up from the hotel so you can watch the royal rumble Yana💗: yes you can come get me jeez why do you always gotta be right? BigBrother💪🏼: brother knows best Yana💗: 🙄🙄

She shot a quick message to her brother and then made her way to the bathroom, eager to freshen up with a quick shower before Cody arrived to pick her up from the hotel for tonight's Royal Rumble.

༊*·˚

KIYANA In Cody's locker room, I was glued to the action of the women's royal rumble when I caught wind of some returning wrestlers. The news sent a thrill through me, making me feel like a giddy fan girl inside. It reminded me of what Cody had mentioned earlier; perhaps I really did need that closure from Jey after all.

It's possible he might need this too, but I'm uncertain about whether I want to try to resolve things with him. What if he just goes back to Jaida and ends up using me as a backup for his own comfort? What if he and Jaida never truly ended their relationship? These thoughts are swirling in my mind, making it hard to think clearly.

Jey's messages flooded my phone, each one expressing how deeply he longs for my presence. It was clear he misses me immensely, and as I read through his words, I could sense a heaviness in his heart.

Was I his motivation?

Was I the person to keep him going?

As I was lost in my thoughts, a sudden knock on the door jolted me back to reality. Rising from the couch, I opened the door to find an unfamiliar figure standing before me. He was a towering 6'3", and there was something strikingly familiar about him. It dawned on me that this was Jey's twin brother, Jimmy, who greeted me with a warm smile.

"Hi, you must be Kiyana right?" Jimmy asked as I nodded my head seeing him reaching out his hand.

I shook his hand firmly before speaking, "yeah, the one and only Kiyana, I'm assuming that you're Jey's twin brother?"

"Yeah, older brother to be exact only by nine minutes." I chuckled at his comment I guess he was the funnier twin in the pack I let him inside of the locker room as I sat down on the couch lapping my leg over the other one. "So what brings you by?"

"I just wanted to introduce myself since my brother hadn't got the chance to do so, speaking of him does he know that you're here?" I shook my head.

"No, he doesn't know that I'm here tonight I've been trying to avoid him if I'm being honest," Jimmy raised an eyebrow at me almost questioning my actions.

"Why?"

It was complicated to explain but knowing that Jey he probably telling his brother everything it seems like he already knew why I was trying to avoid Jey at all cost, I shrugged my shoulders not wanting to speak on the situation. "Mmcht, C'mon now Kiyana,"

"I simply don’t want to talk to him," I replied, resting my chin on my hand and turning my gaze to the TV. "You really should have a conversation, though. Don’t misunderstand me; I did give him a heads-up about you, advising him to tread carefully since you seemed like someone who avoids drama and focuses on yourself—until all this chaos erupted. By the way, did you hear that Jaida discovered your involvement?"

I was truly taken aback by how she managed to obtain my phone number just to bombard me with absurd threats. It’s not shocking, though.

"Is that how she got my phone number? Going through his phone? Crazy right?" Jimmy threw his hands up in defense.

"I didn't know nun about that honestly, but I guess you can say something like that. Almost seems like to me that my brother was sprung and still is," What did he mean that Jey was still sprung over me?

"Sprung?" Jimmy nodded his head before continuing on, "Look, I already knew the signs that my brother was hooked on to you especially with him buying you things and that after party he was pretty jealous." I can recall that night him showing off his dominance and possessiveness over me when we weren't even together.

I had grin on my face hearing him mentioning that night between me and his brother.

Jimmy emphasized, "That's not the main issue; the real issue is that he looks genuinely unhappy after you shut him out. I understand it was for a valid reason, but I really think you should check in on him either before or after tonight." I listened carefully, nodding in agreement.

Perhaps Jimmy and Cody were onto something; it might be wise for me to check in on him to ensure he's doing okay. However, I think I’ll hold off for now and consider it after tonight.

Feeling the weight of our conversation, I chose to step out of the locker room for a moment to catch some fresh air and grab a bite to eat, especially since I planned to stay here until I met up with Jey. Just as I was about to leave, I caught the sound of two familiar voices arguing around the corner. Curiosity got the better of me, and when I peeked around, I was taken aback to see Jey and Jaida in a heated exchange, going at it with each other.

It seemed as though they were in a heated discussion about me, with her expressing a desire to rekindle things with him.

"Jaida I don't want to be with you anymore, I done told yo' ass this over and over again."

"What does this bitch have that I don't?"

"Don't disrespect her in front of me Jaida, and she's had a lot to give unlike you clinging onto me,"

"Because you're my man? It's wrong to cling onto someone that you're with?"

"But we wasn't together you were just a fling remember? You could never be like her Jaida, never,"

The moment he compared me to Jaida, a warm sensation washed over me. I was taken aback, unsure of how to process it, especially knowing that he was as captivated by me as his twin brother had mentioned.

"You ain't shit Jey, you didn't even want the girl and now all of sudden when she cuts you off for treating her like a second choice now you have caught some sort of feelings for her?"

"Tell me something did you fuck her after seeing me?"

 A hush fell over the room as Jaida stood there, arms crossed, eagerly awaiting his response.

"Yeah, I did fuck her and a fucked her good too she's so much better than yo—"

A faint sound reverberated down the hallway, unmistakably the sound of her hand connecting with Jey's face, cutting him off mid-sentence. I stood there, captivated, as the entire scene played out before my eyes.

He remained silent, and I couldn't help but feel a twinge of sympathy for him as he navigated this difficult situation with her. Why would he choose to endure the chaos she brings when it's clear that all she does is create turmoil?

"I hope you lose tonight you fuck boy,"

I watched as Jaida walked away, leaving Jey standing there. I hesitated, unsure if I should go up to him; it clearly wasn't the right moment. Instead, I chose to return to Cody's locker room.

As I closed the door, my phone vibrated in my hand. I noticed another message from Jey, and guilt washed over me for not replying sooner.

Big Papa😩 sent a message

Big Papa😩: mamas please talk to me I need you like really fucking need you to be here

I let out a heavy sigh, fully aware that he was making a frantic effort to capture my attention. But did he truly merit it? Considering all the turmoil he caused me throughout our time together, I couldn't help but question whether he was worth my focus at all.

Aaron may have acted worse, but Jey was playing with my emotions, making me believe I had a chance with him while he was still with Jaida. Even though my brother and his brother suggested we should have a conversation to find some closure, it still left me feeling confused and hurt.

I had decided not to text him right away; I planned to wait until the night was over. However, my phone buzzed again with another message from him.

Big Papa😩: Kiyana please...I need you...like really need you...

He needed me? Just how badly was he feeling right now?

I didn't know what to do.

I reached out to my brother for his thoughts on my next steps. I'm inclined to hold off until the main event tonight, but it appears he's dealing with some challenges of his own.

IMESSAGE 💬 Yana💗: brother? BigBrother💪🏼: what's up? Yana💗: Jey is going through it rn and I don't know what to do BigBrother💪🏼: I told you what you needed to do so do it for me sis please Yana💗: what about all of those times he treated me like a second option? So what? I'm supposed to show up for him? BigBrother💪🏼: Kiyana that was in the past I know he did some messed up things to you but remember Aaron did worse

 Aaron was indeed mistaken; he treated me worse than Jey did. At least Jey never pressured me; our connection was spontaneous, igniting a spark whenever we met. That kind of chemistry was something Aaron lacked during our time together.

I received another message from Jey, but this time it was a voice note. Hearing him sob was truly heartbreaking; it pained me to listen to his distress.

Big Papa 😩 sent a voice message

Big Papa😩: mamas...fucking please...I need you right now I'm losing my mind and focus....i fucking need you...all of you please...

As I rose from the couch, a wave of concern washed over me for him. Clutching my purse, I made my way to his locker room, dreading the thought of seeing him in such a state before the men's Royal Rumble. It was crucial for me to check on him and ensure he was alright.

I understand the impact of his past actions on me, and while it hurt deeply, I refused to let him wallow in his own misery. I held no grudges; my love for him remains strong even now. As I approached his locker room, I felt a wave of nerves wash over me as I knocked on the door.

It had been a while since we last met, but I could sense he needed my support right now. As the door swung open, there he stood, dressed in his vibrant all-pink yeet outfit, shirtless and sporting a playful pink lei around his neck.

He always manages to look impressive, yet I could see the pain in his eyes, a clear sign that he had been crying. It shattered my heart as I stood on my tiptoes, wrapping my arms around his neck in a comforting embrace.

He paused for a moment, processing my movements, and then it hit him: it was me, feeling the strength of his arms encircling my waist. Instinctively, I wrapped my legs around him as he effortlessly lifted me into his locker room.

He held me tightly, enveloped in my fragrance, his lips brushing against my cheek as he showered me with gentle kisses, reluctant to let me go.

"I'm here Joshua, I'm here." I whispered in his ear while stroking my fingers through his mullet.

I felt his hands exploring my body, his gaze locked onto mine as his gentle lips met my own. I didn’t pull away; this was a moment we both craved.

As our mouths danced together, I could feel his hands softly gripping my hips, guiding our intimate connection.

"I missed you so much Kiyana, you don't know how badly I fucking missed you." He muttered between the kiss.

The kiss was intense and fervent, as if we hadn't been apart for just a few months but for years. When we finally broke away to catch our breath, our eyes locked in a deep gaze, our foreheads touching, creating an electric connection that spoke volumes.

He placed another soft kiss on my lips pulling away in the process. "I missed you mamas so fucking much," I gave him a faint smile on my face caressing his face.

His expressive puppy eyes revealed everything; he truly missed me. As tears began to well up, I gently wiped them away while he clasped my hands with his large ones.

"I missed you too," I confessed.

"But after tonight we need have a talk, a serious conversation about all of this okay? I need you to get it together for the main event tonight aight? Do it for me," Jey nodded his head as he began to get himself together fixing his Lei on his neck giving me a kiss on the lips before heading towards the gorilla.

༊*·˚

Jey had just clinched victory at the Royal Rumble, and the pride and cheers from everyone around him were palpable. As we took a drive to discuss everything, the atmosphere was electric. We were immersed in the rhythm of his playlist, sharing a blunt while he expertly navigated the road ahead.

I inhaled a few puffs from the blunt, exhaling the smoke into the air before passing it down to him. As I glanced out the window, I noticed we were approaching Canal Walk, a serene and secluded spot perfect for a stroll and an intimate conversation.

He shifted the car into park and turned off the engine as we both stepped out, making our way to the stairs. He took my hand, guiding me down the steps, the blunt resting in his other hand.

As we strolled along the Canal Strip, our fingers intertwined, we engaged in conversation. I had missed moments like this more than I can express.

"I'm proud of you for winning the Royal Rumble tonight," I said taking the blunt from his hand while taking a puff from it.

"Thank you mama, I really needed you here today, I just missed you a lot." Jey responded looking at me.

"I missed you too, you know my brother convinced me to talk to you. I didn't really want too because I was scared," I earned a chuckle from him as his gorgeous smile appeared on his face, "I get it, you were probably doing yo' own thang. Meanwhile I'm over here missing you,"

As we strolled along the Canal Strip, I exchanged a smile with him, our eyes locking in a moment of connection. We passed beneath the bridge, catching sight of the ducks gliding gracefully on the water. Eventually, we paused at the waterfall, captivated by the sight of fish darting playfully beneath the surface.

We enjoyed the moment, passing the blunt and feeling an exhilarating high, stealing glances at one another. Suddenly, I heard him call out to me, "Mamas." I turned to see him approaching, his hands gently resting on my hips.

Our gazes locked for a brief moment, enveloped in silence as we stood side by side, absorbing the soothing sound of water cascading along the riverbank.

"Can we start over?" His voice was gentle and tender when he posed the question. I had always yearned to begin anew with him, to set things right. However, I was determined not to be anyone's second option.

I interlocked his hands into mines, "If we start over again I don't want to be nobody's second option and I want us to take things slow this time and do it right no bullshit Jey I'm serious," I said.

"I promise mama, I don't want you slip away from me ever again. You're all I need," he said as he pressed a soft tender kiss on my lips.

We spent the remainder of the night wandering along the Canal, sharing laughter and playful moments. Just as I was lost in the joy of the evening, my phone buzzed in my pocket. I pulled it out and saw a chilling message from Aaron that left me momentarily paralyzed.

Aaron🙂‍↕️ sent a message

Aaron🙂‍↕️: you fucking bitch when I get my hands on you I swear to god you'll be begging for that nigga Jey to save you watch yo' back

The threat he made to lay his hands on me filled me with fear; I had never encountered a situation like this before. Jey, sensing that something was off, began to walk in my direction.

He held my phone, scanning through Aaron's message, and I could see the anger simmering in his eyes, yet he managed to maintain his composure.

He grasped my chin making me look at him in his eyes, "he won't do anything to you mama, imma protect you aight?"

I listened intently, nodding in agreement as he softly pressed his lips against my cheek.

This was going to be a long ride.

Sneaky Link

A/n: Let's see how Kiyana and Jey will navigate their relationship with all of the drama happening between Aaron.

But I hope yall enjoy this chapter lmk in the comments below

STAY UCEY 4.

[babeydollx]

If you are the author of the JJ Maybank “Safe with You” I have to say I’ve been reading fanfics for like 10+ years and that was the best EVER!!!!!! I was so heartbroken when I couldn’t find the link to it 😭😭😭 PLEASE bring it back to life! 🫶🏻🙏🏻

Safe With You | JJ Maybank

୨୧ Warnings: Cursing, smut, angst, soft!sex, unprotected sex, soft!JJ, abuse, violence, has a fluffy ending, 18+ MDNI.

୨୧ Pairings: JJ Maybank x Female Kook Reader

୨୧ Summary: In which JJ helps his girlfriend get away from his father when she goes over to his home to see him.

୨୧ Word Count: 1.5k

୨୧ Author's Note: ahhh, tysm for the sweet comments! I'm so sorry about the link thing, my links have been broken recently because of a recent username change but I am working on fixing them all. In the meantime, here's the fic, I decided to repost it <3

I arrived at JJ's house to see him. JJ and I rarely got time to see eachother since we were on different sides of the island. My parents always had me busy with some shit all the time. It was exhausting and annoying.

I never had time for JJ anymore and I hated it. So, I decided that I would surprise him at his house to see him. I missed him so much and I knew that he missed me too. I couldn't wait to see JJ again and be in his arms.

I walked up to the house and knocked on the door. I waited for a minute or two but there was no answer. I could hear movement inside of the house so I knew that someone had to be home. You decided to try and open the door.

When I turned the door knob the door easily opened. I slowly walked inside and looked around. The house was messy and I could smell beer and weed. As I looked around, I jumped when I herd glass shatter. 

What the hell was going on? Was JJ okay? Was someone trying to hurt him? Millions of questions and thoughts flooded my head as I looked for JJ. The sounds were coming from the backyard. I dashed out to the backyard to see JJ on the ground with an older man on top of him and punching him.

"Stop! Stop hurting him! Please!" I screamed as I ran over to the two men in the backyard. I couldn't pull the older man of of JJ so I grabbed a empty beer bottle off of the ground and smashed it over his head.

Luke stopped punching JJ and got dizzy before collapsing on the ground. JJ sat up on the ground and looked over at me in shock. 

"What the hell are you doing here?!" JJ asked.

"I- I came to see you.." I said.

"Didn't I tell you to not come here?" He asked.

"You did but, it had been so long since I saw you so I thought I could surprise you. I didn't expect for any of this to happen. Who is he? Why was he hurting you?" You asked.

"He's, uhm... he's my dad." JJ mumbled. 

"He's your father?!" I asked in shock. JJ nodded. "Why would he hurt you?!" I yelled.

"I don't know. Cause he is constantly drunk and high I guess." He shrugged. "I'm use to it by now, he's been doing it for years." JJ said. I could feel tears pooling in my eyes. This was absolutely heartbreaking. How could a parent do this to their child?

Before I could say anything else to JJ, someone tackled me to the ground harshly. I screamed when it happened. 

"GET OFF OF HER!" JJ yelled. Luke was on top of me. I tried to fight Luke off but he began to hit me hard. I screamed and cried more as he continued to hit me. I could hear JJ yelling and trying to pull his father off of me.

Finally, JJ had got Luke off of me and began to beat the shit out of Luke. I scrambled to my feet and watched the scene go down. I could feel tears streaming down my face still and I was in pain. After a few minutes of JJ beating Luke up, he finally got off of him and ran over to me.

He hugged me and I hid my face in his chest. I finally felt safe. I knew that even if Luke woke up again that JJ would keep me safe, he would make sure that Luke wouldn't hurt me again or worse. 

"Are you okay, Y/N?!" JJ asked worried as he checked me for any terrible injuries. 

"I'm okay." I said with a sniffle and nodded. 

"I am so sorry that this happened to you. You shouldn't have had to see any of this." JJ said with a frown as he hugged me again. 

"I'm sorry that you have had to go through this for years.." I said with a frown. "Why didn't you tell me this was happening to you?" I asked.

"Because I didn't want you to worry. This isn't your burden to bare, Y/N.." He said. 

"JJ.. we're a team. You can tell me anything and everything, okay? Whatever you are dealing with, I want to be there for you to help you." I said. JJ nodded slowly. "Anyways, did you want to stay the night at my place tonight? My parents are out of town so we have the house to ourselves." I said with a smile.

"That would be nice. Thanks, Y/N." He said with a smile.

"Anytime." I said as JJ and I get ready to go to my house. 

We arrived at my house and went inside together. I got both of us a water bottle and then we both went upstairs to my bedroom. I gave him his water bottle and sat down on the bed beside him and we talked for a while. After we both chatted for a bit, we both went silent not knowing what to do next.

"So, what now?" I asked looking over at JJ. He sat there thinking for a moment before looking back over at me. A smirk spread across his face.

"I have a few ideas." He said with a smirk. Before I could ask him any questions he kissed me passionately. I kissed back, melting into the kiss. The was he kissed me was magical. He always knew how to make me feel a certain way without even trying. 

As we made out, he gently pushed me down onto my back onto the bed. I ran my hands through his soft, blond hair as the two of us made out. Once we got both of our clothes off and out of the way, JJ was positioning himself between my legs.

I held onto his shoulders tightly and sucked in a breath as JJ slowly pushed inside of me. I gasped and moaned out softly. He groaned quietly as he bottomed out. He then began to thrust into me.

I gently threw my head back and groaned out. I held onto him tightly as he fucked into me, slowly picking up the pace. He continued to slowly pick up the pace until he was fucking me at an ungodly pace.

I moaned out even louder than I did before. I arched my back off of the bed and moaned out, almost screaming at this point. I could feel that familiar knot bubbling in the bottom of my stomach and I knew that I was going to cum any second now. I then clenched around JJ, signaling to him that I was going to cum. 

"Fuck, you gonna cum, princess?" He asked as he groaned out.

"Yes, fuck! I'm gonna fucking cum!" I yelled. 

"Come on, cum for me." JJ said. With that my eyes rolled back and my legs began to shake as I came hard on JJ's hard cock. He thrusted into me a few more times before coming himself, shooting his load deep inside of me.

JJ pulled out of me and I laid their trying to catch my breath. He laid down beside me and he was also trying to catch his breath. After we both took some time to come down from that, JJ smiled and gently pulled me over and snuggled me.

I giggled when he did so. I always loved to be in JJ's arms. He always made me feel so safe. We both laid there together and talked for awhile while we were tangled in each other's arms. After we both talked and snuggled, we both fell asleep together.

I woke up the next morning to see that JJ was no longer in bed with me. I sat up and rubbed my eyes before looking around my bedroom. No sign of JJ. As I was about to go look around the house for JJ, I saw a note on my bedside table.

I took the note off of the table and unfolded it before reading it. 

Thanks for letting me stay the night at your house, Y/N. Again, I am so sorry that you had to witness all of that yesterday and go through that. I promise I will come back later, I just have a few things to sort out with my dad. I love you, Y/N.

- JJ

I smiled at the note that JJ left me. I thought it was so sweet that he had decided to write me a note. I missed JJ so much already but, I couldn't wait to see JJ again.

Author's Note: tysm for reading, lovies!

[tarobii]

Meet underpolochka! the object of my spite right now.

They have 159 posts, all of which are reposts. Some posts contain multiple stolen pieces! So the total stolen art count is actually at 191 (192 if you count the pfp).

I messaged them two months ago to try to be cordial about getting my work removed from their page, but they have done nothing, and even continued to repost my art.

Additionally, they blocked elizakai, who was going through their posts, commenting about how they are a reposter.

As such, I have decided to go through their posts, compile data, and give proper credit to as many artists as I could find! Enjoy.

===== Affected Artists =====

underpolochka has stolen from a grand total of 118 artists, with 23 unknown pieces! This means the total amount of artists stolen from could actually be 141, if we assume every unknown piece is by one person each.

edit: changed to actually tag the artists concerned who are on tumblr + fixed some links (also I somehow managed to forget the person who had the most stolen 😭)

Artist: Amount of works stolen

Unknown Artist: 24 (12.57%)

@imjustalazycatycat: 10 (5.24%)

@zucchiyeni: 9 (4.71%)

ut_barista: 7 (3.66%)

@tuxibirdie: 6 (3.14%)

@kwai0: 4 (2.09%)

kaemi39128279: 3 (1.57%)

nazvakanalu_vityahahaha: 3 (1.57%)

cero_09051: 2 (1.05%)

cotpyzero: 2 (1.05%)

gafka_xo: 2 (1.05%)

Hakko_060 / @haako060: 2 (1.05%)

haz3run3 / @hazerun3: 2 (1.05%)

hoangvu8607: 2 (1.05%)

@idnikomattao: 2 (1.05%)

ItssAliyaz_Arts / @starzeah123: 2 (1.05%)

nagi1242: 2 (1.05%)

nGrcuDS: 2 (1.05%)

penneko20: 2 (1.05%)

ProductionRoxy / @itsxroxannex: 2 (1.05%)

samuraybesceli: 2 (1.05%)

@smileunicorn: 2 (1.05%)

sunJopan: 2 (1.05%)

_3_points_: 1 (0.52%)

_Akasy_: 1 (0.52%)

_ramu__8_: 1 (0.52%)

1530ry_3: 1 (0.52%)

@3mko: 1 (0.52%)

6rokkoli: 1 (0.52%)

@aeliem: 1 (0.52%)

AliceTemnova: 1 (0.52%)

@amarumasposts: 1 (0.52%)

ArtOfLi: 1 (0.52%) (I LOST THE LINK AUGH)

@b-shell: 1 (0.52%)

BBKKCAATT: 1 (0.52%)

bro_bt: 1 (0.52%)

Buubblecorn_: 1 (0.52%)

CakesMelons / @cakesmelons: 1 (0.52%)

chillkooooo29: 1 (0.52%)

club177174143: 1 (0.52%)

@cornmayor: 1 (0.52%)

dadmareau / @dadmareau: 1 (0.52%)

DevCAT17234205: 1 (0.52%)

@dulltoymaker: 1 (0.52%)

Fiance_owo: 1 (0.52%)

fionaxinyyyy1: 1 (0.52%)

@freshlyepic: 1 (0.52%)

GinXue: 1 (0.52%)

Glitch1e: 1 (0.52%)

godouyu_n (deleted): 1 (0.52%)

GOMADANGO_115: 1 (0.52%)

gull_0e: 1 (0.52%)

heresexymaan: 1 (0.52%)

@hiro-doodlez: 1 (0.52%)

Iden11781: 1 (0.52%)

itikosan: 1 (0.52%)

@j-jumyplace: 1 (0.52%)

just_fenya: 1 (0.52%)

@kalidos: 1 (0.52%)

kanna_kannaoi / @aoi-kanna: 1 (0.52%)

ki51w_UwU: 1 (0.52%)

kinotura12: 1 (0.52%)

@knifewound-13: 1 (0.52%)

kolyvanovich_kolyvan: 1 (0.52%)

komahaku_244: 1 (0.52%)

kurio_ne404: 1 (0.52%)

lami_rin: 1 (0.52%)

Lanli_Shiba / @lanlishiba: 1 (0.52%)

LazyArtz11037: 1 (0.52%)

lv_de_er: 1 (0.52%)

and beyond in reblogs bc of tumblr link limit

additionally, here is a document containing works that I could not find the original artist of

===== Other Statistics =====

here is the spreadsheet I used to organize everything

[bethelighthalazia]

Ruined everything!

Summary:  Jealousy takes the better of your boyfriend and the stress of the last days just makes him say things he regrets.

Genre: angst (?), fluff (?)

Pairing: bf!Hongjoong X fem!reader

Word Count:  604

Warnings: none

[note: It's just a little drabble, but i saw this gif and it just gave me this tiny bit idea which i just had to write down ^^’]

© by bethelighthalazia. Do not repost, copy or translate. Unless stated otherwise, those works are mine and born from my own ideas. I don't have any claim on the mentioned real existing Idols whatsoever.

Laughing, you stood aside with Seonghwa, who was taking his break from shooting. You had brought coffee for everyone and waited with him for all the others to take their break too, although when Hongjoong comes up to you, he already looks a bit moody. It doesn't stop you from holding his coffee towards him with a smile.

“Hey Joong, here's your coffee. Seonghwa said you didn't have one y-” Before you could finish your sentence though, one of the members accidentally bumps against you while talking to the others and causes you to drop Hongjoong's coffee. Unfortunately, it spills onto his outfit. You tried to catch the cup and when you look up into his face, you actually wince, his expression more than angry.

“Great, y/n! Now I have to get changed and the staff has even more work!” Hongjoong huffs out, grabbing the tissues from your hand harshly before you hurry to get more tissues. “Hongjoong, it's fine, the stain is not as big, we can fix it.” Seonghwa tries to calm the captain, but for some reason, this seems to anger him just even more. “Yeah, of course you stand up for her, huh? How about you take her then? Don't need a stupid girlfriend who ruins everything all the time!”

These words feel like a slap in your face and the moment Hongjoong turns and sees you standing there, he feels horrible for saying it. Of course he loves you, but the day had stressed him so much, he lost his patience and let it out on you. “Y/n, I-” He started, but cut himself off, noticing the tears that had appeared in your eyes. 

You didn't want to hear it, your week already had been shit and now your boyfriend says this? Before anyone could react, you throw the tissues at him and turn around, leaving the set, running. It just had to happen someday, Hongjoong is an idol and you are just a normal girl, so why should one like him love you?

It didn't take long for your phone to blow up, the boys asking you to come back and that your boyfriend didn't mean it. When Hongjoong called, you declined the call and turned off your phone for now. If he truly wanted to find you,he knew where you would go. The only place, you always felt safe and comfortable, even though without him, it felt cold.

Hours went by, you had curled up on the chair in his studio, and when Hongjoong entered it, you had fallen asleep from crying. When he saw you there, his heart stopped for a moment, thankful that you didn't leave completely. Carefully, he laid a blanket over you before sending the boys a text, letting them know that he found you. 

“Y/n…I'm so sorry for what I said. I never meant it…” He whispered, his fingers gently caressing your temple, then he carefully lifted you out of the chair to settle down on the little sofa with you in his arms. “D- don't leave me, joongie…” Your voice was quiet and sleepy as you shuffled in his arms without waking up, bringing a sad smile to Hongjoong's lips. 

“I would never leave you, y/nnie…I love you too much for that. You are my best friend, my muse, my treasure. And I'm so sorry for hurting you with my words. I swear, this will never happen again.” He whispered, followed by endless quiet apologies until the captain also fell asleep, his arms wrapped around you in fear of losing you because of his stupid words.

taglist: @mingis-mizu, @tinyelfperson

(if you want to be added to a taglist, follow the taglist-link in my pinned post)

[mochelisgf]

CHAPTER ONE —

ᰔ — pairing: morgan cheli x oc (mar williams)

ᰔ — word count: 1600

ᰔ — warnings: none, this chapter is mostly a introduction

ᰔ — links: character list, fanfic masterlist

ᰔ — story masterlist

ᰔ — authors note: pls be patient with me as this is my first ever series ! also pls leave feedback in the comments or on reposts 🩷 alsooo in the beginning of this chapter there was a Instagram set up but I couldn’t get the layout right so ignore that…

— INSTAGRAM —

@MRWILLIAMSSS

liked by r3neewilliams and 70 others

mrwilliamsss i fear i have to get out more

view all comments......

r3neewilliams you say that all the time and then proceed to stay in all day

— mrwilliams ....🖕...hater

georgiaeous ugh have my babies

— georgiaeous but yes you need to get out more!!!

— mrwilliams ugh i guessss we can go out soon

jujuwatkins wow

— r3neewilliams GAY !!!!! juju stop flirting with my cousin

— mrwilliams ree kys??????

MAUREEN MOVED ACROSS THE ROOM; on her body contained her backpack filled with books, papers and lunch for the day. She was sporting a tight-fitted white tee with a deep golden brown cardigan layered on top which she paired with dark washed baggy jeans and burgundy buckled loafers.

With her cousin finally graduating and moving out of the dorm, she had all the time and quietness she needed to focus on her studies and also herself. As she was making sure that she had all needed before walking out the dorm her phone began to ring, picking up her phone the phone read 'gia 🤗' answering the phone the first thing she hears is —

"Me, you, and ree – tonight at club rio and I am not taking no for an answer"

"what? no Georgia I can't go out tonight I have a study group and I have to finish a group assignment, I can't go" replied Maureen.

Georgia whined into the phone "Dude you so need a break, you literally replied to my comment earlier saying we could take you out!"

Maureen sighed before replying back "Yeah I said soon, keyword being soon? I love you and I would kill for a night out right now but I really got to finish this shit, look I can't afford to miss an assignment you know I'm on scholarship"

"Yeah, I know I'm sorry. How about Saturday? The last assignment you have to turn in is this group assignment right?" Maureen hummed yes "Okay then how about this Saturday, me and ree come over and we get ready together and go out? " Georgia continued

"Yeah Saturday is good, again I'm sorry I can't go tonight, I love y'all though okay? Have a good time, I got to go but I'll come by your dorm tomorrow morning, bye" Maureen said and in reply got a 'Okay, I love you too mar' before the call ended.

Maureen puts her phone away with a sigh, grabbing her drink, keys and flash cards she'd left on the kitchen counter that same morning before turning off the lights and walking out the dorm.

𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝙉𝙀𝙓𝙏 𝘿𝘼𝙔

Maureen's day started at 5:25am. Being a law major meant her life was pretty hectic and exciting. It also meant having to wake up, get dressed and make it halfway across campus before the sun even finished setting.

Her first class was at 7:45am. Waking up more than early enough so she could stay with her current routine. Wake up, fix bed, take a 15 minute shower, brush her teeth, do her skincare, makeup and hair, eat an egg sandwich and lastly make sure she had all her shit together before walking out. She managed to do all that by 6:25.

Maureen's day yesterday was chaotic to say the least. Spending the entire day on her feet, whether she was at study group, completing her part of a group assignment for her computer graphics class or at her job at the campus cafe for the very few hours she's able to work – she was busy. And today – Friday would be no different; classes going from 7:45 in the morning all the way to 6pm, her law classes taking up 4 of the 11 hours she spent on campus in class.

Which is exactly why she said yes to going out on Saturday with her cousin and Georgia. It'd feels like it's been forever since she's been out and let loose. And after her conversation with Gia the afternoon before; she felt like she's been lacking in the friend department as of recently, so she thought 'why the hell not'.

Walking out of her dorm today, the weather wasn't the best; uncomfortably cold and misty but what else is to be expected in Connecticut. Maureen was wearing a loose-fitted short-sleeved yellow collar shirt, a pair of high-waisted soft denim colored jeans, a deep brown leather jacket on top and a pair of brown and white samba adidas shoes.

She was the third person to arrive at class that morning. She’d hoped to arrive to class a little earlier to continue reading on the case her professor had given her 2 days ago, today they’d discuss the details of the case, what they believed what should and should not have been done when working the case and then lastly discussing the what-ifs in the case. Everyone was given the same case, so when class would go into section, the teacher would start off by saying —

“Hello class, welcome back to law 101. Today we are going to be going over, inspecting and discussing a case file which you should have received Wednesday morning. I’d hope that you guys took the days you were given to read this case thoroughly, because I will be questioning you intensely; on the whys and why nots of this case. Please take your seats, gather all your notes and let us start.”

The class took 4 hours to conclude, after discussing the case, everyone taking turns, inputting their opinions on what they believed should've been done and others responding back with either agreement or disagreement. The professor—Professor Henley, released us a little past 12:05pm. Seeing as how Maureen had only eaten an egg sandwich hours prior to attending class and she had a full hour free before needing to return for the reminder of her classes, she decided to drop by Georgia’s dorm.

Since it's already been 12 pm and also a friday, Georgia was most definitely up. Making her way to the girls dorm, she’d met the gaze of many people, other students from her computer graphics class and her English class, and waved to the other as an act of respect and kindness.

Georgia opened the door as soon as Maureen had found herself face to face with it, hand lifted as she was about to knock. Confused, Maureen asks Georgia “uh ... .how did you know i was outside?”.

“Your location is on? It warns me when someone I know is near. Come on babe.” the other girl had answered back “Hey you have another class at like 2-ish right?” Georgia continues

“Oh yeah, english for an hour or two, honestly just depends on what we have to complete during class. Anyways, do you think I could make a sandwich or something? I only made an egg sandwich earlier before class.” Maureen professed.

“Yeah girl, go ahead this is as much your house as it is mine.” replied back georgia. In a rush, Maureen hugs Georgia, landing a small kiss on the girl's cheek before pushing past her.

“Ugh all that talking and arguing made my head hurt and left my mouth dry, I am so glad I agreed to go out with the two of you tomorrow.” Maureen complained as she opened the fridge, eyeing all of the ingredients she’d need for her sandwich; mayo, ham AND turkey (yes she knows) before closing the fridge back.

After she finishes making her sandwich she takes a seat on the couch, setting her alarm to 1:30 so that she’d have enough time to relax before having to get to her next class.

Her break goes by fast. Too fast if she’d say so herself, but instead of complaining about the lack of comfortability and relaxation she simply cleans up behind herself, says goodbye and goes about her day, just hoping it’d go by faster and she’d finally be able to relax.

Obviously life isn’t that simple because her teacher for English instead dropped a big analysis assignment on her insane workload and put the due date for next Friday.

Maureen’s not gonna let Ree and Gia down again though. So instead she spends the entire rest of her day after her English class which ended at 4pm, analyzing her text, writing down notes and then beginning her first attempt at her assignment.

She stops writing at midnight, wanting to get as much sleep as possible considering her schedule during the week isn’t the best…and that’s putting it mildly.

She quickly – but neatly puts away her papers on her dresser, laying them directly on top of her laptop. She turns, grabbing her phone and opens the phone screen, going to the clock app she clicks on the plus button, creating a new alarm and setting it for 10am.

Sure it was early, but early was her thing – checking to make sure her ringer was on; having to turn it off during her classes, and then closes her phone, setting it down on the window seal which laid above her bed frame and then turns her lamp off, the room going dark and most importantly, quiet.

[we-stan-the-stans-27]

Dead Asleep AU?

Okay, so I kind of wanted to write another part/version of that sleeping beauty AU from the other week. But this time, Stanley is the one who gets too suffer! HAHAH!

So, here is part two. Also, I posted both parts up on my Ao3 account and I'll link it here if you want to save it for later or whatever.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/62066953/chapters/158737552#main

And of course, I'm going to @sixerstanley again! Because this was their idea. Now. Let's get into being evil. Heheh.

(I had most of this done on the tenth, but then I basically died and couldn't finish. So, enjoy. That live stream was like crack or something. Idk guys.) (P.P.S. Gonna post this on its own now because I don't think anyone saw it when I reposted it attached to the old post. Rightfully so. That shit was long as hell.)

Truth be told all of Stan Pines favorite and happiest memories took place on a boat. It didn't matter if it was on some crappy litter scattered beach.

It was theirs and nothing could soil those memories. Back then all that mattered was the hot burning sand, maybe the stings of glass cuts across a sole, and tumbling along getting hurt, hand in hand.

Sure, it took forty damn years to get back there, but he's anything if not stubborn. And it paid off.

What's that saying? 'Most gamblers call it quits right before striking it big?'

Good thing he never stopped betting with higher and higher stakes then, right?

The future is much brighter because of it. The deck of the ship has a sharp bite to it now. From one extreme to the next. A hot infected wound, now soothed by a cold compress.

The arctic Ocean.

There isn't a lot in the area for fishing, but there is still plenty of wildlife to watch from the top deck if your patient.

Late at night the sky lights up with the northern lights, or 'Aurora Borealis' if you speak blabbering scientist. It's beautiful and a new flavor of Ford's favorite activity, Stargazing.

Out at sea there is no better place for it without any light pollution. Just them, the universe, and the expansive inky blackness below.

Sitting out on the deck, fish watching with a pair of binoculars, the world is practically blinding this time of the afternoon. The white overcast clouds mixed with the occasional chunk of ice covered in snow lights up the world like being inside a light bulb.

That's not what pulls Stanley's attention from the endless water he's been looking at all morning though. Finally, he sees something!

Off the starboard side from where they've been anchored a group of Narwhals is swimming by, long tusks poking out of the water and interrupting the sleek outline of the waves.

"Sixer, get the hell up here!" He knows his brother won't be nearly as excited about seeing this marvel as he is, but Stan still wants to share it with him anyway.

Just because Ford saw a million different impossible things through the portal doesn't mean whales aren't interesting too. Sure, not what they're hanging out waiting for, but who cares?

When Stanley can't hear Ford immediately running up the stairs, no big surprise if stuck in a book, he stomps on the floor of the deck without looking away from the water. Grinning like an idiot.

"Stanford Pines, get up here! I'm having a heart attack!" Okay, yeah. It's not funny. But that never fails to get him top side no matter what he's in the middle of.

'Boy who cried wolf' Yack! Yack! Whatever. If it works, why fix it?

There are at least ten different Narwhals intermittently breaching for air but the sight is incredibly short lived before they dive again on another breath hold, disappearing from sight below the grey waves.

"Awe, too slow! You missed it!" His booming voice is the only sound on the ship and it makes Stan finally drop the glasses and get up out of his chair with a crack from both knees.

He stomps, again, and then listens with a little more attention to the ship.

There is the lapping of the waves against the side, the slight breeze blowing the fresh smell of sea salt over the vessel, but otherwise its quiet.

Hmm. He could stay up here, maybe even pretend to fall over and really scare his brother. Except the last time he did that Ford almost threw him overboard into the freezing cold water.

Still. It is a little weird that Ford didn't at least yell a few foreign curse words up through the ship.

"Alright, fine. You want to prank me back? I'll bite." It comes out in a mutter and Stan makes his way across the deck after one more glance around at the water.

Through the wheel house, down the steep steps, and around the corner into the room dubbed 'the office' only in the name on the door. It's a glorified science lab that Stan gets to store a shelf of books inside of.

Pushing open the door is a little challenging, like something is blocking it but after a minute of shoving he's able to get enough room to squeeze through to get a look around.

Yep. This is 100% a prank.

The thing blocking the door? Ford, leaning back and looking pretty limp. Stan has got to hand it to him, this is a really convincing look.

"Nice try genius, laying around on the floor isn't going to convince me. Come on, up we go." It takes a lot more work than it should to move Ford from the floor up into the single chair in here.

The only real dead bodies Stan has ever seen have been bloody from being murdered or covered in vomit thanks to overdosing on something. Lots of blood, bruises, stomach acid and empty eyes stained with their last moments.

Ford's open, blank ones, do cause a little bit of alarm, but. It's how damn cold his body is that brings the first real taste of concern to the forefront of his mind.

"I thought I told you to turn on the space heater periodically. You have bad enough circulation as is, you idiot." Ford is very cold, and limp just like a dead body, and his eyes-

To humor Ford, and to reassure himself, Stan does a big show of rolling his eyes and then putting two fingers to Ford's wrist. You can't hide having a pulse, genius.

"................................................................................................................"

Okay. Maybe you can hide a pulse on one arm, if you cut off circulation. Whatever, big whoop?

Stan shifts over to check the other wrist and lets out a tisk of annoyance before raising those same fingers up to Ford's neck.

Same result.

Huh.

Now that's a neat trick.

Ford is doing a really good job pretending not to breathe too.

A really really good job.

That's bad.

"Alright Sixer, good one. I've learned my lesson here, you can undo whatever witchcraft you used to manage this." His confidence that this is a joke is cracking with every second Ford doesn't hop up and start lecturing him.

That's what should be happening. Another long rant about how pretending to be injured or sick isn't funny, not a good way to get attention, and unnecessary.

Yeah. Stan knows all that.

Ford does come topside, eventually, whenever he yells. It's just-

Sometimes Ford gets a little too caught up in his work and needs to be reminded the rest of the world exists. Extremes are the easiest way to do that.

And, yeah. Stanley can admit in the safety of his own head that he enjoys the fretting Ford does, despite knowing it’s a false alarm. It's been a long time since someone cared about him enough for something like that.

Or maybe those memories are what decided not to come back. Eh, his life seems pretty sad. Makes sense.

What doesn't, however, is why Ford is doing this for so long.

Plain and simple, he wouldn't.

But, that would mean something so terrible that his mind still won't accept it.

Because Ford can't be dead. That's not possible. They had this conversation.

Before leaving Gravity Falls, they had a really long and difficult talk about health issues. Ford came up with game plans for emergencies, Stanley had to own up to his numerous health issues, and how does Stanley know with complete certainty his brother can't be dead?

Bill said so.

Ford isn't supposed to die until he's ninety-two of a heart attack.

Now, Stan doesn't trust that demon on much. Or anything. Except this.

Because Bill liked Ford to an uncomfortable degree, otherwise he'd be dead right now. Or, would have at some point during the apocalypse.

So. The devil must have been telling the truth on this one thing, right?

Ford had seemed pretty sure that he wasn't going to be the one needing healthcare at sea, solidifying the belief in Stan's own mind. If Ford wasn't worried, why should he? He's a genius!

But-

What if Bill did lie? Tricking them into a false sense of security only for Ford to drop dead one day. Honestly? That does sound more his style.

Except, it can't be today.

It just can't.

Because if Ford is dead-

That's not a possibility Stanley Pines has ever considered for so much as a millisecond.

Not when Ford went through the portal.

Not for thirty years during the rebuilding process.

Not even prior to rescuing him from Bill and saving the world.

Because he can't imagine a world without Stanford Pines.

Sure, he's been gone before. Missing, but he came back from the portal and they eventually fixed things. They're okay now.

That was six weeks ago.

And, yeah, they still fight, but that's normal. Expected, living so closely after so long apart.

Stan has found himself frozen standing next to the chair simply staring down at Ford waiting for-

The joke to end? The camera crew to jump out? Ford himself to come in from the other room telling him this is a dummy or clone?

That spurs him back into action, rushing out of the room. "You aren't funny, Stanford Filbrick Pines! When I find you, I'm going to give you the worst wedgie in the multiverse!"

There are really only four places Ford could be hiding, given his size. Their bedroom underneath the bunk beds, the bathroom, the tiny kitchen pantry, or the engine room.

The kitchen pantry is bare, as expected. It’s a pretty shitty hiding spot.

Looking underneath the bed is tricky, but he isn't under there either.

The bathroom shower is clear too and he leaves the lights on, doors open, as he yanks the tiny half-sized door to peer into the almost crawlspace-sized room-

Empty.

For good measure Stanley does a second, and third, lap of the ship from the deck all the way back through leaving no chance for his brother to be sneaking around hiding.

In the end he still lands back in the office, leaning against the wall, looking at his brother's freezing cold and lifeless body.

Dead, body-

Nope, nope, nope! Ford can't be dead, he can't be.

Instead of looking at 'Ford' Stan looks around the room at anything else in search of answers. There's a stack of books and some science doohickey on the desk, but that's not all.

When first entering the room, Ford was laying on the floor back against the door. The chair was sideways, almost like he'd fallen out of it.

Down on the floor is a small collection of scattered papers.

It certainly looks like-

"Nope. Not happening." I'm not going to entertain it, not going to think about it. Ford is cold and being an idiot.

Stan busies himself with gathering up the scattered papers off the floor and organizing them on the desk and-

Ford's phone.

Before leaving port they'd both gone out and bought one at the behest of Dipper and Mabel. For taking pictures, calling, texting, and use of the internet.

They have this thing called a 'hot spot' that allows them to use the internet on their laptop for video calls and such. Ford usually sets that up and Stan gets the call going.

Neither of them knows the full process, so they have to work together.

Finding it discarded on the floor fits with the scene Ford has laid out trying to play dead. It's all very convincing, really.

But all that panic and worry remains buried deep, because what else is there?

Losing Ford would probably give him a heart attack, for real, right about now.

So. It's pretty concerning to see the phone open, wasting the battery, to their text chain.

It looks like Ford tried sending him a text up above deck.

'Stanley, I require medical assistance, follow protocol 32-C. Thank you. -Stanford Pines'

Except the text never went through, that red bubble with the exclamation mark 'Not delivered' is obvious enough for even Stanley to see.

Okay. There isn't any ignoring that.

Why? Ford was right here, why didn't he yell or come upstairs, or knock on the ceiling for fucks sake?

Except it does look like Ford might have tried to leave the room-

Real, honest panic claws its way up into the center of his chest from where he's kneeling on the floor looking at the text that didn't go through.

Maybe it was never a heart attack, could've been a stroke-

This text is pretty long and lacking spelling mistakes though, like all the other messages Ford has ever written.

His last words.

"Stanford..." It comes out broken and he ignored the complaints of the floor in the rush to get up, still clutching the phone, and across the room to his brother.

Idiot! Stupid, God damn idiot!

Instead of helping him for one fucking second you decided to play hide and seek!

Nope, we aren't going to cry. Not now, nope. Doesn't matter that there isn't anyone around to-

Nope!

Pulling Ford down onto the floor to assess him is easy with how limp he is and Stan makes quick work of pulling off his gloves in search of-

Something.

There still isn't a pulse, but the skin along each wrist and the neck feels colder than it did earlier. Stan's hands are shaking like he's going through withdrawals, trembling.

Focus.

Despite what his brother might think, he did in fact take the time to review the procedures stored in their extensive first aid kits. Not because any of them are helpful here though.

Ford put that together with Stan exclusively in mind.

What to do in the case of a heart attack, stroke, aneurysms, seizures, and all the small things too. Stuff for stitches, concussions, burns, and there is one small pamphlet on amputations.

The reason he took the time to review them was to put together his own plans, just in case.

If this is a heart attack he can't use to stupid paddles on Ford because of his metal plate. Besides, who knows what kind of effects that might have if it is a stroke-

He's already dead-

"Shut up! Just, shut up. He isn't, not until I say so!" The yell echoes back inside the claustrophobic room. The boat has never felt so painfully small-

CPR it is then.

Thirty-two C is essentially an undefined chest pain. Aspirin, monitoring, and high tailing it to the closest port.

Hard to do any of that when Ford can't breathe, much less swallow. And, you know, being three hours from the closest dock doesn't help either.

Stan has wasted too much time fussing and being useless as is. He knows how to do this. Where the hands go, the rhythm needed and the right amount of pressure to apply. How often to force Ford to take air.

This gives his hands something useful to do, his mind something to focus on instead of pure white-hot panic.

Because that's what he feels.

There is only one thing he could never protect Ford from, himself.

Sickness, and eventually death fall into that same category because the body does those things without considering what you want. Old age would come for his brother someday, regardless of how anyone feels about it.

Stanley had always assumed- no, made damn sure -that he wouldn't outlive his brother.

Because he can't be the one to carry on. That is a world he wants no part in.

He realizes, a while into doing compressions, that he should have consulted a clock before starting to try and keep track of how long he's been doing this.

Whatever, like it really matters.

Stanley continues anyway, long past when his arms started to burn and past hearing two different ribs crack.

What makes him stop is when he physically can't catch his own air enough to continue.

He is, understandably, a mess.

Snot smeared between both faces, tears across the front of Ford's shirt and cheeks, and Stanley himself can't breathe, chest tight and wracked with sobs.

Even if Ford did have a heartbeat Stanley knows he wouldn't be able to feel it because of how badly his hands are trembling and how fast blood is rushing in his own ears.

Six god damn weeks. Is that really all we got? All that time, all those mistakes? So much wasted all because I couldn't control myself for five fucking seconds!

"I'm sorry, I'm so fucking sorry Stanford." It comes out choked, barely real words around his chests arguing efforts to sound like a dying animal and take in enough oxygen to avoid meeting his own end.

The pile of regrets is immeasurable, but not so much about the past.

They've done that song and dance, so those aren't the thoughts that tear into him now.

So many things missed that still need to be made up for.

Christmas. New Years. Drunk nights out. Their birthday for fucks sake!

Now they'll never get to share that, ever again. Forever Seventeen.

Just-

Being together again.

Joking together.

Together!

Not apart.

Haven't they had enough of that? Wasn't four cursed decades of loneliness plenty?

Guess time has a funny sense of humor.

Or the world just hates him specifically.

Stanley Pines isn't allowed to be happy, hopefully everyone got the memo!

He can't remember ever crying so hard or for nearly as long ever in his whole life. Countless nights spent breaking down in the basement, slumped over the desk in the upstairs office, or camped out in some slum across the back seat of the car are nothing in comparison.

Lying across Ford's chest feels unnatural. It's too cold, too still-

Wrong.

It's like someone just broke one of the fundamental laws of physics here in their office and Stanley can't handle it.

When he finally manages to pull away a crazed laugh bubbles up and out into the room without permission.

There is nothing funny about this, but it seems to have a mind of its own, running away with his vocal cords.

What the hell else is he supposed to do? His whole world just died. Ford might as well of snuffed out the sun, causing the whole universe to go out with it. All that's left are stars.

Memories.

That's not fair. None of this is, and he knows that life ain't fair. Why would it be now? Of course it wouldn't, but-

"Why?! Why now, huh?! You couldn't of waited ten fucking minutes? At least let me be here with you? I could of done something useful for once! But no, I always have to fail! It's the only thing I'm good at!"

The humor vanishes, the hysterics of it washed away by anger and grief.

He ends up sitting back on his ass with knees drawn up with both arms wrapped around them, just like when they were kids.

What is he supposed to do?

Ford's dead. Stanford is dead. Sixer is dead. My twin brother is dead-

Repeating the same thought doesn't make him feel any better. If anything, it makes the shaking ten times worse. Unsteady hands, trembling shoulders-

He's shivering all over, goosebumps caused by something other than the cold.

"God, i really am a failure. Can't argue with me now, huh? You died, fifteen feet away from me and-" He can't look at Ford like this anymore, so he brings up a hand to cover his face while trying to regulate his own awful breathing.

Who cares? Why does it matter? Why bother calming down if Ford's dead?

As much as he'd like to give up, because it would be incredibly easy to do so, Stan knows he can't. Not now.

Okay. Deep even breathes.

In. One, two, three, four, five.

Out. One, two, three, four five.

It takes several tries to manage getting past two, but it gets a little easier to stop feeling so light headed the more he focuses on it

He can't give up, because like it or not-

Why not?

Because of the kids? Because of Soos? How exactly would they feel to find out both of us were brought into port dead by the coast guard? Two funerals to attend.

Although they would probably do them together-

That's a nice thought.

Nope, we aren't encouraging that!

"Alright, come on. Get it together. You know what to do..." That doesn't make it easier.

Back up. First onto both knees, then both feet.

Unlike moving Ford into the chair, dragging him around, Stanley takes more care lifting Ford up over one shoulder to carry him from the office across the boat into the bedroom.

Laying him out on the bottom bunk, tucked into the blankets, it looks like he's just sleeping.

Despite barely doing anything Stanley is exhausted already. Arms sore, his back is going to be killing him tomorrow from picking up all that dead weight, so he settles on the edge of the mattress. Just for a minute.

There was once a day when the gun would, metaphorically, already be in his hand.

The world hadn't exactly been kind to him. Not growing up. Not on the road. Not even fully in Gravity Falls. Sure, it was home, but the basement was its own form of torture and suffering.

All of that was supposed to stay off the boat.

Land was pain, the ocean was perfect.

Or at least he'd thought so. If death was going to come for them, taking them into the ranks of lives lost at sea, they were supposed to go down together.

It's tempting. More tempting than ever before.

"I'm sorry." He can't turn and look at Ford, but the presence of his body is comforting in a weird way. Just don't think about how-

"I know you keep telling me I don't need to be, and that we're all good, but I really am. I'm the reason we lost so much time, so maybe it’s just that I have to live with that until my heart gives out." These are the kinds of things he'd never say if Ford was really here.

Or in front of anyone, but what's the harm now? Might as well get it out now before heading back.

From there Ford will be carted off to the closest morgue, body probably cremated, leaving Stanley to bring the ash remains home.

"Maybe I was a damn fool to think I could have it all. Should have known it was too good to be true. I can't-" He has to stop to take several deep full breaths before pushing on.

"I can't do this. Thirty years, forty, all alone. Ruined, and now-"

Things were good, fantastic, for fucks sake!

Having someone to cook and clean with. To get annoyed at when they hog the bathroom. Pointless arguments, bickering, but always getting over it.

It was domestic in a way he'd always wanted but never allowed himself. Always afraid anyone who got close would leave.

In a way, Ford did. Not intentionally, but he did walk right back out the door just like everyone else. Who knows, maybe it would have happened sooner or later anyway.

"I-I know I wasn't great to live with. I'm a pain in the ass screw-up and I guess that's all I'll ever be." Failing to notice something was seriously wrong sooner, not hearing any noises his brother might have made, not getting that text-

Overshadows saving the world. It doesn't matter if the sun keeps rising if his brother isn't here to see it.

He doesn't really know what's considered 'normal behavior' around a corpse. It might be incredibly weird of him to decide to sit up against the wall at the head of the bunk and get Ford situated laying back against his chest, repositioning the blankets.

Stan finds he doesn't care either way. If his brother is dead, the love of his life, he's going to sit with him for a little while before his body gets all stiff and gross and corpsey.

It'll take about two hours, give or take, before then.

Other than the bed being cold it’s not hard to pretend things are okay. Stan's own breathing moves Ford with each inhale and exhale in the otherwise quiet room.

They're both to old to be cuddling, but who's around to judge him? The next closest human is miles away and Ford...

He doesn't really get a say anymore.

Stan lets out a sad and exhausted chuckle, shaking his head and tucking his face down into Ford's hair while keeping both arms tight across his brother’s chest.

It smells of sweat, sea salt, and something chemically that makes his nose burn a little. He needs a shower, gross bastard.

"You have no idea how much I'm going to miss you, Sixer. No fucking clue how much I love you."

Never, ever, would Stan dare be so open in front of anyone, much less his equally emotionally constipated brother. But it’s not like he's going to be able to say all this stuff in front of people.

Not when he heads back to Gravity Falls, tail between his legs. Much less at the funeral.

"I mean, you had to know. One person doesn't dedicate a lifetime to fixing a mistake like that if they don't give a shit. But, well, you know."

He's a corpse Stan, he doesn't know anything. Not anymore.

"It was never the boat. I didn't care that you wanted to go to school. I didn't care about taking the journal. I didn't even care about you being a pretentious asshole. Okay, maybe I did care about that last one a little." It's the first genuine laugh Stan's let out since finding Ford.

"It was the separation I had a problem with. We could have been enlisted in the military for all I cared, as long as we did it together. Talk about codependent, am I right?"

His arms are tired from doing compressions so instead of continuing to hug Ford in a vice grip he settles for holding one of his hands instead.

Cuddling, weird but not outside of things they've done before. Usually after or because of nightmares.

Hugging is practically a daily occurrence at this point, sometimes multiple times depending on the itinerary Ford's always got in his stupid head.

But this, holding hands, isn't something they've done since they were kids.

Hopefully, Filbrick found a special space in hell for yelling at them until they stopped. He was right, socially, of course. But Stan can't help holding a grudge regardless. As if Ford needed more negative press about his perfect hands.

They're cold but Stan pointedly ignores that in favor of savoring the moment.

"It was good we spent time apart, in its own stupid way. Not because either of us had a good time or anything, but we finally grew up. Eventually. Just took the world ending for you to get your ego checked." It's nice having Ford lying back against his chest, their hands intertwined over Ford's cold one under the blanket.

It's sad, and temporary, but better than nothing at all.

You take what you get and you don't throw a fit.

"But hey, it wasn't all bad." Looking around the room the proof is right here. "We did it, eventually. We had some fun, stole some treasure. Never did get any babes though, but-"

The wall closest to the door is covered in a large cork board covered in pictures from the camera Soos gifted them as a housewarming present before leaving port. Original pictures of them back in Jersey pinned at the top with their adventures detailed in the ones below, picking up decades later.

He sighs, bringing up his free hand to straighten out Ford's hair. It's always a rat’s nest. "I was never as worried about that part as I probably should have been, because I-"

Dead or not, is this really the kind of thing he should be saying out loud?

The things he's saying aren't really for Ford, they're for Stanley's own benefit anyway. "Well, heh. You see, about that...I, uh. Really only had interest in getting one babe on board." He squeezes Ford's hand for emphasis, like he's listening.

But even Stan can't help bursting out into laughter at his awful joke, managing to avoid letting out more than a couple tears. "Oh god, that's terrible. I'm terrible, I know. But, you never had to worry about that. You being here is more then I could've asked for. No sense betting it on the bonus word and getting left at a dock when things where good as is."

There. It's out there, in the room, shared with someone who can never tell his worst secret. That wasn't so bad now, was it?

"As it was, I guess. Still can't believe you're gone and our adventure is over before it really got started." It's a somber thought, but he leaves it at that.

What else is there to say?

Time passes, only marked by the slight darkening of the clouds outside the boat and the ticking of Stanley's watch.

He keeps saying 'five more minutes' but that started up about two hours ago. It's been nearly three since settling into bed. His back hurts from staying in the same position, fingers cramped, but he still doesn't want to get up.

That means letting go. He isn't ready for that.

Probably never will be either.

It must be the cold keeping Ford from getting all stiff like dead people should because he's still just as limp and relaxed as when he first died. That thought makes him wince.

"Alright. As fun as this is, I should probably get up and bring us back to port before it gets dark." He says it like Ford will be able to encourage him to do so, like the corpse is going to hold him accountable.

Except, it can't.

Stan finds the willpower to get up and off the bed anyway, leaving Ford tucked in, and heading out into the hallway that is the kitchen and dining room.

Next step is getting back to port, calling the local authorities, and explaining what the hell happened. That won't be fun. None of this is.

He only gets as far as the kitchen before having to sit down.

Who is he kidding? This is impossible. How the hell is he supposed to do any of this?

No matter how hard he tries to cling to the fact that he has other family, because Stanley knows full well how much the kids and Soos care for him, that doesn't make the suddenly unbearable weight on both shoulders any lighter.

The boat is suffocating, cold, and it’s only going to get worse.

When Ford had gone through the portal it was easy enough to rationalize his feelings of hopelessness away using pure denial. Can't be sure Ford is dead if you can't see him.

And yeah, he'd been right, though on all accounts he shouldn't have been.

Stan can't do that here because Ford is very clearly dead and gone.

All those years he'd already been through the first several stages of grief periodically. Denial, anger, and bargaining but had always gotten stuck in the second to last step. Depression.

If people can get past that one, they usually reach acceptance and from there, it’s all about finding a way to live with it.

I can't do that.

How on earth am I supposed to after everything? So many mistakes, miscommunications, lost time, and for what? For it to end here?

What the hell am I supposed to do? Pack it up, return to Gravity Falls, and drink myself to death?

That's probably what he would have done if Ford hadn't been able to make it home. If he'd actually been dead for thirty years and all that effort was for nothing.

It doesn't take much to make up his mind. It’s only a matter of when, not a matter of if.

The painful silence of the ship is interrupted by his watch beeping at him several times, indicating it’s time for his blood pressure medications.

This watch is considerably uglier than his gold one, but its water proof and has some fancy alarm and timer settings.

Ford set it up to remind him.

He all but collapses in on himself with tears escaping easier than before in the office.

This was all he ever wanted, for someone to give a damn about him and now the only person who ever did is gone!

No more bickering about who used all the hot water. Complaining about who's turn it is to handle the laundry. Doing dishes together.

No more laughing, cracking jokes, or arguing over what to have for dinner.

"I can't do this, I'm not strong enough for that." His voice is choked, barely above a whisper.

His own feet bring him to the first aid kit fastened to the wall above the toilet in the bathroom. It's where any medications they might need are kept from ibuprofen to some other more questionable alien junk of Ford's.

Nutrition pills are not a substitute for real food, even when you’re sick of fish Stanford.

Down on the bottom shelf right next to the Aspirin and Tylenol is where his stupid medication is to take-

Except currently there is a small and simple letter propped up on the shelf blocking the several bottles there with 'For Stanley Pines' on the front in neat and actually legible cursive handwriting.

He looks around the bathroom, almost comically, because he really has lost it.

Maybe he actually had his own medical problem while trying to do chest compressions and now he's a ghost or something?

Because this looks like Ford left him a letter right inside their medicine cabinet.

Except he's dead in the other room.

After picking up the letter, and taking his stupid meds, Stan goes back to the bedroom to double-check that the corpse hasn't managed to go anywhere in the last ten minutes.

Nope. Still there.

Okay.... Well, might as well read it then?

He closes the bedroom door first and goes about straightening up the million open doors and all the unnecessary lights left on this whole time, settling against one of the kitchen counters and tearing the envelope open with his pocket knife.

'To Stanley,

If you are reading this letter then you must be in the throes of panic at the moment. As I know well, it’s not very fun to have a brother who continues to terrify you with health scares. I have tried discussing this with you several times, but clearly, you don't fully understand.

Perhaps this spook, over a supposed 'blocked blood vessel', will set the record straight. I do not find your jokes about 'keeling over' to be amusing. Waking me up purposefully drooping one half of your body also isn't funny.

It is for these many reasons I've devised a plan to scare you, briefly. The serum I gave myself to cause the presentation of symptoms should have no permanent or ill health effects. However, it does eventually result in a loss of consciousness, so you will need to administer the antidote.

It is tapped to the roof of our fridge and kept at the appropriate cool temperature until it is ready to be used, with the dosage already measured out in a previously prepared needle. Any vein will do, though it may take some time to circulate and take-"

Stanley doesn't bother finishing the stupid list of instructions Ford may have left him filling out the rest of the letter. In fact, he can't even bring himself to be mad right this second about Ford torturing him like this.

He's alive. That's all that matters.

It’s a rush of slamming open doors, making a mess of the top shelf of the fridge, before Stan is able to find the supposed needle right where the letter said it would be. Back to the bedroom he yanks on the light, tearing off the blanket.

"I knew it, I fucking knew it-"

Or at least he hopes this is real and not some hallucination caused by grief. Seems a little too good to be true, but he'd be willing to gamble on giving Ford sulfuric acid if he left a note saying so right about now.

Sure enough, by the time Stanley is able to yank Ford's closer sleeve up he can see a big X drawn with a sharpie over the vein along the interior of the arm where you'd have blood taken. Or shoot up heroin.

How long does he have to give the antidote? Could it be too late? That letter was probably supposed to be opened hours ago.

Whatever.

No time like the present.

He's done this plenty of times on himself, so it’s not hard.

Using one of Ford's ties out of the closet (a ridiculous thing to bring on a boat) he's able to create a tourniquet without having to go back to the bathroom.

The cap gets removed with his teeth and once the vein is visible, he carefully presses the needle in under the skin before pushing down the plunger and injecting whatever the weird black medication is.

Only after putting the needle aside does he run off to get dressings and gauze to patch up the injection sight and stop the bleeding. The same amount you'd expect from a live body.

A weird sense of euphoria takes hold in the time it takes to secure the gauze over the injection site with some medical tape.

And a little bit of hope.

Rightfully, he should be beyond pissed. What the hell was Ford thinking in the first place? Okay, yeah. They suck at talking, and he hadn't been the most open to Ford's previous complaints about his 'death jokes' and such.

Dark humor. But he hadn't expected Ford to do something this extreme in retaliation.

Talk about a prank war getting out of hand.

This is worse than when they got into a closet territory war in high school and it had ended with them both getting yelled at, and grounded, when some itching powder accidentally ended up in the wrong laundry.

Later he can be upset, but right now Ford will probably be waking up in enough pain over his own stupid choices. Being given CPR is a rather violent experience, his chest is going to hurt considerably for a long while.

That's revenge enough, and-

Okay, maybe you could consider this lesson learned.

Stanley is left to wait, with bated breath, for Ford to wake up.

It's pretty safe for Ford to say that this whole experience turned out to be a lot more traumatizing than it should have been.

Maybe he was a bit of a dick, planning on scaring Stanley a little, but that's all. Just a tiny scare to get his brother to stop being so-

Difficult, let's go with that.

Pain in the ass would be more accurate

Regardless, absolutely nothing had gone to plan and it had very nearly ended in the worst possible way. Him dead, and Stanley heart broken.

What was supposed to happen was pretty simple.

Starting with sending the text, which Stanley would get above deck. Meanwhile, below deck, Ford would cast the spell meant to slow his pulse to an unsteady rate on top of accelerating his breathing. Mimicking something close to a heart attack.

Just for a little scare, with no real consequences.

Then Stanley would come downstairs, freak out, but follow the procedure.

Which is when he would have found the letter, stopping the whole scene before everything got so out of hand. Easy.

But, no.

The text hadn't gone through, because their signal was spotty at best out here.

No problem, because the spell does technically leave a window before putting you into stasis.

Or, it’s supposed to.

Thirty-two and a half seconds isn't nearly enough time to do anything useful, as Ford found out the hard way.

The results were him being left waiting on the floor for Stanley to find him and being left fully aware of every second without being able to do anything to stop it.

Having chest compressions done when your heart is fine, just old, is not fun. Very not fun. One of the more painful experiences he can admit to participating in.

This whole thing, in fact, is up there with one of the top five worst moments in his life.

All because Stanley wouldn't listen!

No, it's because you’re an idiot who seems to only know how to hurt your own brother-

Shut up!

That's not helping anything.

The slow-to-restart heart rate, which never fully stopped, is more painful because of the time left lying around. Not a surprising response to his apparent death, but-

Two broken ribs, and some pretty bad bruising, but otherwise physically he'll be fine.

Just as soon as every vein stops burning from the antidote.

Truly that's a just punishment for the time he's left waiting after feeling the injection up until he's able to breathe and move again.

There is a lot that he could unpack here, but that would involve facing everything that he just caused. Which is terrible.

Better to focus on the one damn good thing to come out of this whole mess.

Stanley loves him.

Not only in the 'brotherly love' kind of way, but it certainly sounded like it had been implied romantically, hadn't it?

The spell or the cold he'd been experiencing couldn't have made up a hallucination like that.

It's logical if you think about it.

Stanley was under the impression he was dead, so why not own up to all kinds of gross and sappy crap? Taking time to mourn everything that was, could have, and is.

Brother, best friend, and-

Lover is a rather big leap to make from some simple implications on their own, but-

Was it two or three hours of straight-up cuddling and holding hands?

That might be as much evidence as Stanley would ever willingly provide without being physically tortured out of it.

Knowing that his own feelings are returned is actually worse than being trapped inside your own skin, because what the hell is he supposed to do with this information?

If they can't talk about Stanley no longer making jokes, how is he supposed to bring this up in a way that doesn't make his brother jump off the boat to drown?

Ford can't help but let out a quiet pained groan with the first gasp of air, taking away the option of saying something first thing.

It's better than screaming, which is what he feels like doing from the pain.

Not the first time an experiment resulted in such poor results, it'll be fine.

"Stanley," is the first thing Ford forces himself to say just as soon as it’s not going to come out sounding too pained. As if either of them needs to feel worse at the moment.

Stan hadn't so much as gotten up off the bed after dressing the injection. He brought up a hand to steady Ford when he tried to sit up too fast. "Woah, take it easy there, Sixer. The world's not going anywhere."

Now is not the time for jokes, Stanley. This isn't funny.

His brother’s ability to compartmentalize traumatic events and the emotions associated with them is astounding. Must be a shared trait.

Trying to talk is like swallowing tacks but he managed to make a motion towards the water bottle they kept hanging from a hook above the bedside table halfway between their bunks.

Relief was about all Stanley could feel getting up only enough to grab the water bottle for Ford before settling back next to him on the bed.

He's still cold, but very much alive.

It's visible in the tense set of Ford's shoulders when he's awake, the crease and possibly only wrinkle on his whole stupid perfect face between his brow from worrying or fretting over something, and the strong grasp around the bottle when taking a drink.

It's almost enough to make him cry again, except Ford is awake now, so he keeps a better lid on those feelings by shoving them back in a closet. Hugging Ford as soon as he's had a drink also allows for a good expression of his worries while actively hiding any stupid emotions (or tears) his face could be doing against his will.

No matter how much it physically hurts (maybe at least one of those ribs is broken, rather than cracked) Ford wholeheatedly returns it while trying to lubricate his mouth and throat enough to say something, anything, useful.

"Did it work at least? Do you understand now how physically upsetting it is to have you faking health scares? That pure terror is what I feel every single time, regardless of if you’re kidding. It's not funny." His voice is still ruined and dry with an edge of ache, but audible.

Stan lets out a dry chuckle, but it's forced and tight. "Yeah, yeah. Alright, you got me. But for the record, I knew it was a sham. I could smell it from a mile away!"

Both eyes are also a little dry from the extensive time spent open up until Stan closed them, which gives a good excuse for why he blinks at Stan like an idiot.

What, does he think I'm stupid?

Sure, Stanley seemed fooled for a while, but the last several hours of panic and grieving-

He doesn't know.

Oh.

Well, that's. A perfectly rational assumption given that's what the letter said, the spell was supposed to end in unconsciousness in a form of slowed metabolism and heart rate in a form of intense hibernation.

"I was awake." The reaction is immediate feeling the hand on either shoulder tighten momentarily with several emotions passing over Stanley's face too fast to read.

Panic is all he catches before its smothered with the rest.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

Well, that is almost worse than Ford being dead, because what the hell is he supposed to do now?

They're three hours from port, without anyone around, and no internet connection.

Ford could easily kill him and no one would ever know the difference.

Because that is certainly what's about to happen. He knows, he heard, he saw for fucks sake.

If it wasn't for the physical and literal beating Ford would have already had him in a headlock on the floor.

Watching Stanley physically, and not so subtly, recoil is heartwrenching and Ford won't stand for seeing any more pain on his brother’s face.

There has been enough of that in one lifetime, and tonight.

"Hey, I'm not upset." He has to physically stop Stanley from getting up off the bed by grabbing one shoulder and the closer hand tightly, pulling him back to sit again.

This might be the absolute most embarrassing moment of his whole life.

Worse than the teasing they got as a pair over Ford's kissing bot in high school, which previously held the top spot.

Maybe I should just throw myself overboard to get away from this conversation.

Sure, I'm not dead, but living with 'being let down easy' and then everything spiraling into the most awkward friend zone of all time is much worse.

Death would be kinder.

Stan's whole face flushes bright red but otherwise his expression remains mostly neutral and steeled waiting for whatever comes next. Though its still tempting to run.

Very, very tempting.

This is terrifying, but not nearly as scary as thinking Stanley was going to do something drastic while left to his own devices. In comparison, this is easy.

If you ignore the fact nothing has ever been easy for them.

"I'm, you could say that- I understand." What the fuck was that? He tries again, pushing on because that didn't make any sense. "I mean, I've visited more dimensions then I can count, I'm certainly not- I've grown out of my own reservations, so you could say. But, obviously, I never thought..." He does another lame motion with their linked hands, hoping Stan will read his mind and end this painful moment.

Okay, now this is definitely a hallucination triggered by some sort of mental lapse or stroke.

Ford being dead absolutely did get to him.

Enough to make up a whole letter and shoot up a corpse with some random chemical and now some sick hallucination.

That seems more likely than what Ford is trying to imply or suggest.

But the hand in his, with six fingers enveloping Stan's five, certainly feels real.

And there is the small, helpful, argument-nagging details coming from the back of his head that Ford never actually pissed himself or anything like most dead people do.

Stanley must have picked up the habit of laughing when he's nervous over the last several decades because, from Ford's perspective, nothing about this conversation is funny.

It's very serious and raw, so why the hell is he laughing so hard?

At least he isn't pulling away. That's good?

"For fucks sake, Stanley, can you take anything seriously for one whole minute? Why the hell do I even fancy you? You’re an ass!"

"Fancy me, what are you, a British nark?" Jesus, Stanley can barely breathe trying to calm down but doesn't let Ford pull his hand away an inch.

"I'm going to kill you, just as soon as I can breathe without my whole chest convulsing, I'm going to-"

"Oh, I'll show you being unable to breathe alright." He does not know where the boldness comes from exactly, probably the high from the recent near-death experience, but either way he snatches Ford by the shoulder with his free hand to pull him over into a proper kiss.

He ignores how it tastes of stale water and snot.

[ladykailitha]

Well Met By Moonlight Part 3

Hi!! So I can't link to part 2 (well I can, but that whole section remains lost) at the moment because the damn post is broke and can't be edited and according the belabored staff it was an issue for a lot of people that posted during that seven hour window when the tags were down last Thursday. So they have a shit ton of help tickets to wade through, though they have assured me they are looking into it.

But as soon as they have it figured out I will link back to the original post, until then I'll link the fixed reposted version for now and apologize profusely for the fuck up.

I have the whole back story plotted out for what happened and why, I'm just not sure where the story is going to go to get to those reveals. However this means you get enjoy the ride with me.

So without further ado, Steve gets his man vampire.

Part 1 Part 2

***

Steve turned to Robin. “Telling you to leave, too isn’t going to work, is it?” he asked with a sigh.

She grinned at him. “Nope!”

He turned to Eddie who had been watching the whole interaction with a curious tilt to his head. Steve thought he looked like a puppy like that. Big brown eyes, adorable head tilt, the hair being a stand-in for floppy ears...

Puppy.

He was also one hundred percent sure that Eddie would have been offended by the comparison.

“What’s got you smiling like that, sweetheart?” Eddie asked.

“You,” Steve replied truthfully.

Robin faked retching. “Oh my god, I’m going to gag on the absolute sap oozing off the both of you.”

Steve blushed, but Eddie wagged his eyebrows suggestively.

“That’s it,” Robin said, throwing her arms in the air. “I’m out of here. Steve, don’t die. Eddie, you hurt my best friend and not even all the vampires in the coven and all the wolves in this pack would be able to stop me from ripping you to pieces, do you understand?”

Eddie smiled with just his lips, his eyes crinkling with mirth. “I read you loud and clear.”

Robin nodded and then marched back into the trees.

Suddenly Steve could feel the importance of it just being the two of them.

He cleared his throat and scratched his cheek nervously. “I wanted to thank you for the rescue. I was so sure I was going to die that night.”

Eddie grinned, shoving his hands into the pockets of his leather jacket. “I’m glad Uncle Wayne sent me.”

Steve felt his insides turn cold. “Oh. You only came to my rescue because Wayne sent you?”

Eddie cocked his head to the side thoughtfully as he took in the question. “Sweetheart, I think you misunderstand something. Rescuing you was an obligation to the pack leader, loyalty to my uncle and maker, and a sign of my love and devotion for you. I don’t need to have a single reason. I’m allowed multiple reasons for doing something.” He wagged his eyebrows suggestively. “For doing you.”

Steve snorted, but the ice was beginning to melt in his gut. Eddie took a step closer and then another when Steve didn’t flinch or take a step back. Soon they were inches from each other.

“I am worried,” Eddie murmured gently. “What kind of trouble a turned vampire and a werewolf alpha would cause in a town that is already balanced on the edge of a knife.”

Steve nodded, carefully taking Eddie’s face into his hands. “I’m worried too. But I think we’re going to need band together not just turned vampires like you and your uncle and my pack, but the coven, too. What happened to me was just the tip of the iceberg and the new sheriff seems shockingly anti-supernatural.”

Eddie pursed his lips and nodded. “God, do you know how much I’ve wanted to stand here with you like this? To have you see me?”

Steve brought their foreheads together. “I did see you, Eds. I did. But I wasn’t the alpha then and you were a mere mortal.”

Eddie squeezed his eyes shut and let out a shuddering breath. “It’s why I asked Wayne to change me, you know. Because if Hopper was afraid of him then made if he made me, Hopper would have to let me near you.”

“Oh, darling...” Steve murmured. “I wish you didn’t have to do that, but I don’t think your uncle would have appreciated me turning you into a werewolf, so...”

Eddie threw back his head a laugh. “Oh god! The look on his face would have been priceless. I almost wish I had waited until I was twenty-one to ask, just for that reason.”

Steve smiled. “Yes, but then it would have been Wayne that rescued me and I wouldn’t gotten to see how sexy you are when you chase your prey.”

Eddie’s face transformed under the feral grin that spread over his features. “You get a little hot and bothered watching me defend you, baby?”

Steve bit his bottom lip and shook his head.

“No?” Eddie asked tilting his head to side, still grinning from ear to ear.

“Yeah...” Steve said, dragging the word out slowly. “To say I was a little hot and bothered would be a little like calling a tornado a gentle breeze.”

Eddie laughed and turned his head away, pulling gently out of Steve’s hands. He looked back at Steve who now shared his dopey grin. “And people in this town call me the menace.”

Steve laughed too. “I just get to hide my weirdness under the guise of being a werewolf.”

“I’d really like to kiss you now,” Eddie murmured.

Steve stepped into his space, their chests nearly touching. “I was wondering when you were going ask.”

Eddie chuckled and tangled his hands into Steve’s hair, drawing their faces close. Their lips were a literal breath away when Eddie stopped, just taking in the mingling of their air as they were already panting.

Steve closed the remaining distance and finally, finally they were kissing. It lit every nerve ending in Steve’s body up like a firework. He never knew kissing could feel like this. He gripped the back of Eddie’s leather jacket and held on for dear life.

“Wow.” Eddie felt like he had been forced to run the mile in gym. He couldn’t breath, his heart was beating erratically, and every muscle burned. It was amazing. He dived back in and kissed Steve again. He couldn’t get enough.

Steve had never felt like this in his life. It was deep and sensual and everything he had been told growing up that love should be. And now he was standing on the edge of precipice waiting for that last gust of wind to knock him over the cliff and into Eddie’s strong arms.

“Fuck, Eds,” he breathed when they stopped for breath. “You smell, taste, and feel amazing. God, I don’t want to stop.”

Eddie let out a growl, deep from his throat. “I know, baby. I know. But if we don’t your entire pack is going to get an eyeful.”

Steve chuckled. “Nudity isn’t a problem with packs. All the shifting makes it hard on clothes.”

Eddie’s growl turned into groan. “You can’t just say shit like that when my dick is that hard. It’s gone soft thinking about seeing Murray or Hopper naked.”

Steve laugh startled out of him. “Yeah, I could see that having an effect. I do know a place we could be alone if you wanted.”

Eddie smiled. “I like the way you think, sweetheart.”

Steve let out an ear piercing whistle and a large black, shaggy wolf came running up through the tree line. The wolf sat down and wagged its tail happily.

Steve laughed. “I figured it would be you. You’re on sentry duty until I get back at dawn. I’m going to Skull Rock.”

“You got it, alpha,” the black wolf said his voice thick with a barely contained giggle.

Steve knelt down and they hugged each other with their necks, allowing their scents to mingle.

“I’m glad you’re still the alpha,” the wolf whispered.

Steve stood up. “I will protect this pack with everything in my power. I promise you that.”

The wolf nodded solemnly.

Steve turned to Eddie. “Come on. I’ll race you to Skull Rock.”

Eddie raised an eyebrow, but before he retort, Steve had shifted and was sprinting in the direction of the local landmark.

The wolf let out a breathy laugh that only wolves could make. “You better start flapping those wings, lover boy. Otherwise Steve will beat you.”

Eddie shook his head and took flight, transforming as he leapt into the air.

*

Eddie managed to barely pull out a win by tackling Steve right before the rock out cropping and rolled to the finish line.

Steve ended up on top of the vampire fully human with bright laugh bubbling from his lips. “You cheated.”

Eddie grinned. “Of course I did. It’s the only way to win, babe.”

“It’s a good thing you’re so cute.”

Eddie hummed, his hands roaming over Steve’s bare skin, calloused fingers catching on the smooth expanse.

“Feels good,” Steve murmured, nosing Eddie’s throat.

Eddie’s hands continued their trek down his back, to cup his ass. “You feel amazing, sweetheart. How did I get so lucky?”

Steve gasped, grinding down into Eddie’s hips. “I’m the lucky one. I never thought I would find someone who gets me the way you do.”

Eddie huffed out a laugh. “You werewolves go fast, don’t you?”

“We have to,” Steve murmured. “We might live longer than humans, but we don’t live nearly as long as you vampires do. If we don’t move fast we might lose a chance to breed and that would hurt the pack in the long run.”

Eddie’s expression softened. “I’m sorry, babe. I wasn’t thinking when I said that. Are you going to have to breed with someone as the alpha?”

Steve buried his head deeper into Eddie’s neck. “I don’t want to. I want the Harrington line to die with me. But as the alpha I might have to.”

Eddie’s hands went back to roaming over Steve’s skin, this time to comfort. “What made you decide to go for the alpha position after Hopper was declared dead?”

Steve raised his head. “Because I looked at the other options and knew that if I didn’t, the pack would be stuck in the old ways and people like Carver would kill us all.” He gave Eddie a peck on the lips. “Would you want to be in a pack under Ted Wheeler or Murray Bauman?”

“Wait,” Eddie said raising both eyebrows in surprise, “those were your two options ultra-conservative Ted Wheeler or super conspiracy nut Murray Bauman?”

Steve nodded. “Yeah. It was insane.”

“What about Derek Sinclair or oh...” Eddie’s brain finally caught up to his mouth. “Oh shit. It was literally you or the old guard, wasn’t it?”

“Yeah,” Steve said. “And then when Joyce got supplanted by Nancy as alpha female, her and Murray conspired to bring Hopper back so that things could go back to the way things were before.”

“That’s messed up,” Eddie said. “Could you banish them for that?”

Steve sighed, rolling off Eddie to lie next to him on the ground. “I’ve thought about it a lot, I won’t lie. But I worry how Jonathan and Will are going to react to their own mother getting banished. Would I end up having to banish them too? Could I split up a family like that? Would they willingly go with her?”

“That’s a lot to think about,” Eddie agreed, rolling over on his side and propping his head up by his elbow. “Especially for someone so young.”

“I’m not a fan of Billy Hargrove, the racist, homophobic asshole that he is,” Steve said, “but he is the reason I tried for the alpha role in the first place. If he could take over the coven at the young age of eighteen, then I could take over the pack at the tender age of nineteen.”

“Wayne told me that the amount of supe on supe violence has gone down since you took over,” Eddie said. “The coven respects the pack and the pack respects the coven.”

Steve nodded. “I still wouldn’t mind having outside voices from the pack. The echo chamber has gotten so loud that we get bullshit like the pack tearing apart a vampire that wandered into the encampment instead of helping him or accepting his help, in the case of you rescuing me.”

Eddie nodded. “It’s that suspicion that breeds contempt and allows people like Jason Carver to stir up the town against its supernatural founders.”

Steve sighed. “I worry about the undercurrent of distrust that’s been building for god knows how long.”

“Let me help you forget about it for awhile, baby,” Eddie murmured.

A shiver ran down Steve’s spine in anticipation. “Yes, please.”

Eddie leaned for a kiss and then pulled Steve back over on him.

***

Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20

Yes, everyone, Billy is in this and while he still is all the things that made him repugnant, Steve still respects him. But we'll get more into that at later date.

Tag List: @spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @artiststarme @swimmingbirdrunningrock @gregre369 @pyrohonk @renaissan-vvitch @goodolefashionedloverboi @chaoticlovingdreamer @maya-custodios-dionach @messrs-weasley @val-from-lawrence @a-little-unsteddie @i-must-potato @danili666 @carlyv @rozzieroos @wonderland-girl143-blog @itsall-taken @justforthedead89 @emly03 @bookworm0690 @bookbinderbitch @littlewildflowerkitten @vecnuthy @redfreckledwolf @scheodingers-muppet @mira-jadeamethyst @just-a-tiny-void @potato-of-the-lord @goosesister

[epiaphany]

okay so, this situation got very out of hand. please just let me clarify some things.

obviously i never intended for anyone to receive death threats or hateful anons of any kind. i have seen that these blogs are getting multiple nasty anons, which is just ridiculous. i do think that this is just one or two users who want to create more drama though. like this and this is quite obviously the same person, lol. if you think that i wanted anyone to send people asks like that you obviously can't fucking read.

i genuinely thought that everyone knew that posting gifs without credit/permission is not okay. and that everyone knew that this is basic fandom etiquette most places.

i could have dmed (some of) the people i tagged before posting that. i say "some of" in parenthesis because a few of them i have talked to and others have been called out multiple times (in reblogs or in comments) and not done anything about it. and i have dmed multiple people behind the scenes but they always block me right away and never changed their behavior, so i was getting tired of that. still could have tried it first.

the title was unnecessarily rude. my very weak excuse is just that that's what i had as a title when this post was in my drafts and i didn't change it before hitting post. i meant it more as "these are the people i know have stolen gifs at one point", but i see now how it was hurtful.

i do stand by what i did when it comes to the people who refuse to take accountability (and have been refusing to do that for a long time). but i would like to offer a sincere apology to @srue-on-fire and @suckerwitch who received some pretty nasty anons. it also wasn't fair of me to group you together with the actual thieves. and thank you so much for apologizing for reposting, adding links to the originals, and above all for being nice about it when i called you out in a post like that. i truly am sorry.

the reason i even did this is because as i said above, dming/reblogging the post calling them out rarely does anything (it has literally never worked when i've done it). and this problem is huge in this fandom, and i was getting sick of every other post on the for you tab being a stolen gifset (with, in a lot of cases, more notes than the original). so i tried a different approach. i am happy that more people know about kenneth and fanfic and that it seems like wtfj0sten is gone, but as i said, i regret including the blogs mentioned above. i have removed them from the list and turned off reblogs. my biggest regret is honestly that i didn't turn off reblogs right away, it didn't even cross my mind as an option. but then it would have been easier to remove people/fix my mistake right away.

sorry again to srue and mila.

[wangxianficfinder]

Hi! I didn't know you could report a fic on ao3, would you mind explaining to me how i could do it? Unfortunately im also on other fandoms where people repost other people's works and won't delete them

Thanks in advance!

The way I know how is you scroll down to the bottom of the page until you reach this ↓

Click on Policy Questions & Abuse Reports under Contact Us. It will bring you to a new page, scroll down until you reach this ↓

Fill everything in and press submit. If you do it from the page you want to report, the link to page line will already be filled in.

If there is another way, please leave it in the replies so I can add it here ^^

- Mod C

(I am so sorry! I thought I had it wrong the first time but I didn't! I mixed up the screenshots but it IS fixed now! Please reblog this updated version and not the other one!! Again, I am so sorry my brain is broke 🥲)

[hydrangeyes]

Unnamed

So if you don't know, Yes this already existed, my old account was deleted (accident but I can tell I won't be getting it back), and am reposting my old x male reader works!

I don't know if I saved all of them but here is one that was saved to my AO3 account.

Edit: So shuffling through my docs It's been brought to my attention that wattpad (who I use as backup) Cut a lot of my fics in half??? anyway I'll be trying to fix that also

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

Edit Nov.8.2023:

*Looks everywhere but at you* it..it was going to be pwp.

Botw link x male lynel hybrid

Warning: kinda slow burn, romance is there????, it is, courting, violence, slight misunderstanding, belly bulge, big dick, cum play, ass eating, blow jobs, pet play, overstimulation, nipple play/light torture, somniphilia, crying, light angst, public sex, voyeurism, switch link, switch oc, updated as I write lmao, this is pretty slice of life tbh, just with porn, ruts/heats, This is some wild shit, Wow google search please don’t 

Are you telling me lynel's exist and someone hasn't once thought "maybe 👀 these centaur babes can get it?" Cause I honestly don't believe that.

================================================

Chapter 1: I love Chabi, I feel like she would be a gremlin.

Note: Puuuuuure self-indulgence. Like listen my brain went brrrrrrrrr, this is for fellow monsterfuckers

Traveling after fighting Ganon all at once was rather...fun. Maybe it’s because he went straight to the source of evil and somehow lucked out. And now don’t have a sense of urgency to get to that end goal. The collecting of his memories happened right after as well and by then the princess herself wanted to truly rest up before traveling with him.

He didn’t like the thought of leaving her behind, but he felt a little more at ease that at least she would be staying with Purah for the time being.

Link shivers as he tugs up the fur around his neck. Snowfield was feeling extra chilly for some reason.  He moves a little faster, shuffling through his pockets as he ate one of his emergency peppers. Imagine his relief when he sees the stable just up ahead with a few of the tiny town’s stacked together houses.

“Ah, link!” A voice calls to him once he steps in. The tavern/horse stable wasn’t too packed thank goodness but there was a familiar face. Chabi grins waving at the surprised Hylian.

Chabi and he became pretty good friends after the handful of times Link has saved her as well as traded monster parts with her. She mainly stuck to warmer places and just barely the edges of goron city. It seemed she was acting as an in-between for Kilton and fellow travelers. But being so far from the usual land she would circle in?

“Chabi? A bit far from the base aren’t you?” Link said softly with gesturing to the whole thick woven sweater she was in. Giggling chabi smirks puffing out her chest. “Call me the official Monster tradesman! I’ve started traveling a little further out for those rare materials. Kilton even gifted me with some weapons that’ll protect me better!” she starts up, gesturing him to join her at the little table she was sitting at.

“And so I thought why not start the one place I know the boss doesn’t care to visit. He doesn’t like the cold, he says it makes his feet clammy.”

Link holds back the many questions that pop up in his head about that. Best to store that away with the other questions he has under Kilton’s name. “I..see. So Snowfield was your first stop or?”

“Hm? OH no hehe. Rather some interesting rumors brought me here.”

Feeling like this will be a long one Link waves over a barmaid to buy some spicy curry and hopefully a few fish skewers. Maybe buy a bed for the night as well, just in case, the others get taken.

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

“-And so there I was! Hearing about a lynel wandering between the mountains and near the ruins! And oh I just had to see for myself, maybe ask for a few loose fangs or toenails you know?”

“No. I don’t know.” Link muttered into his drink. It felt like hours since she started this story, before finally getting to the point. He learned way more about how to skin mokoblin guts than he wished. Anyway- “I doubt they would give you a fang but what’s this about it traveling to the ruins?” As far as Link knew most lynels up here were feral or didn’t live anywhere close to the ruins.

“Well, which ruins now that I think about it…” Link asks as Chabi finishes up the last fish skewer. 

“Mhh, Well I say ruins but really it’s the forgotten temple.”

Now that got his attention. What could a lynel want in that guardian-ridden place??? Link frowns leaning back o think about it. That temple of any was the most dangerous and well...Link couldn’t help but feel a little responsible since he didn’t exactly break down the guardians still in there. He was still getting the hang of dealing with those, much less the mobile ones.

The thought of those stalkers since a bone-deep type over shiver. “Why don’t you let me check out if the rumors are true or not. I know you can take on a hoard of bokoblins but even when they’re going easy on you lynels are tough, and rather approach you than vice versa.”

Chabi yawns pouting a bit, sleep probably just now getting to her. “Mm, I suppose. If you can leave them a welcoming message to trade with me please?” she half pleads and half demands. Link nods getting up for a stretch, absolutely happy that she didn’t stop him. He was ready to collapse on the nearest free bed. “I will, soon as I get up I’ll head on over okay?

“Link if I wasn’t so devoted to the boss, I could just kiss you right now!”

“Please don’t.”

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

End Notes:

Basing a lot of this on my 3 playthroughs of botw. And I played them chaotically, as well as just overall making some things up. I kinda want there to be a lot more people in the botw world, like stables have small villages of their own (tarrey town size at least).

 I have a whole dnd esc Au for this where most monsters have their own tribes etc. but lynels, Lizalfos, and maybe wizzrobes interact with humanoids and trade with them. Except for maybe wizzrobes, I feel like they’re more steal your shit and bargain it back, type people.

This issss planned to be very long like, there’s a whole courting arc I have in mind, If you’re here just for the porn, it’ll be marked.

Anyway, this will all probably be unedited and sloppy. It’s for fun and the chapter lengths will probably vary as well. Idk why but I like the thought of the monster appreciators hooking us best friends (or partners) and link is just there, rethinking his life choices. 

But again real talk I right this whenever my mind gets staticy so please excuse any grammar issues, the many run-on sentences, etc etc 👍

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

Chapter 2: O-oh someone fucked a Lynel.

If there's one thing he loved about the snowy areas it was waking up to fresh snow in the morning or nights.

Breathing in that crisp air and starting his journey. Link rubs his cold cheeks, face a bit flushed.

But Chiba woke him up first thing and he will admit he was also wondering about this traveling lynel. The locals (at least the ones up) all mentioned how the lynel kept to themselves, and only came to buy directly from the farmer.

Makes him wonder if the lynel was checking out the area to maybe start up a new home. Shaking his head Link focused on climbing the hill and not sliding off. 

[discotitsposts]

my favorite distraction

unit chief spencer reid x reader

reposting as a whole new post bc i couldn’t link the second part before

originally posted March 25th 2024 i believe

The team was currently giving the profile and the way Spencer was speaking with such authority and confidence you’d never seen before. It was so hot. He had stubble on his face and his shirt was slightly disheveled from underneath his cardigan. After he’s finished speaking the cops leave to do their job. You and Spencer go back to the office you guys had been using to try to solve the case. Spencer realizes suddenly how warm it is in the station and goes to remove his cardigan. You are in shock as he starts taking it off practically drooling at the sight. Spencer, completely oblivious hands you his cardigan and asks you if you could hang it up for him. Without thinking you reply, “Yes, sir.” He gives you a funny look and you smack your forehead when you turn around. He thinks nothing of it until it happens again. This time back at the BAU. As the new unit chief he has a lot of paper work to get done. He doesn’t mind it he likes paper work. One thing stands out to him, one of your files is incorrectly done. You’re the only one still left in the office so he brings it down to you to correct your small mistake. You look up when he walks over to you. Oh and the way he walks, it always gets to you. Especially when he’s wearing a too tight shirt, like he is now. Uh oh he’s walking towards you. He hands you a file you had finished earlier.

Hey, I was just wondering if you could take another look at this for me, I think you made a little mistake right here,” He reaches over your shoulder to point at the misinformation. You nod at what he’s saying. “If you could please fix that and then get it back to me I would appreciate that.” He smiles at you and waits for your answer. Again, only thinking of his constricted biceps in that shirt you blurt, “Yes sir!” You put your head down immediately and get to correcting what he had told you to, until you feel his big warm hand on your shoulder. You look up and he’s staring you in the eyes, he breaks the silence.

“Why do you keep doing that?”

“Doing what,” you whisper so softly he can barely hear your reply.

You keep calling me sir, I told you you don’t have to do that. It feels strange when we’ve worked together for 12 years. My desk used to be right there,” He points at Luke’s new desk. “Now it’s up there,” He raises his finger to Hotch’s old office. “Not much difference except the stairs.” You giggle without thinking. Wait maybe he didn’t intend that to be funny. NO. He breaks into a smile.

“You know, I would tell you why you keep calling me sir, but that breaks the rules of inter-team profiling.” You panic and feel sweaty at the prospect that he might know why you panic around him. “It’s you!” You blurt. His mouth opens in shock, “Me?”

YOU! I love those damn cardigans on you and your hair is so fluffy and you’re so warm!” He stares at you in shock still and you cover your mouth with your hands to stop more stupid stuff to come out. You stand up to make an escape but his hand slams on the desk in front of you to stop you. His other arm gets on your waist and he kisses you mindlessly. He stops suddenly and pulls away. You stand there with disappointment written on your face.

We can’t do that, ever again, at least not while both of us are still in the BAU.” He sighs.

“I’ll quit!” You blurt again.

He chuckles, “I can’t ask you to do that. I know you love your job.”

“I’ll transfer! Whatever you want me to do I’ll do it.”

He shakes his head. “Don’t do that. Well, it’s getting late. See you tomorrow.” He walks back to his desk and brings your now corrected file with him.

The next day

Spencer gets to his office early head still reeling after having replayed his moment with you the previous night. He feels terrible about it and wants to apologize. You’re not in yet since there’s no coffee cup on your desk like usual. Some part of him fears he may have scared you off. You two couldn’t be the same after that. He sits down and notices a paper on his desk. He skims through it.

It was your Request Of Transfer.

He picks up the phone to call you.

part two-

use of she her pronouns for reader but you could honestly replace any details some mature themes. 18+

Spencer was kissing you so passionately and aggressively you couldn't stand it. You wanted, needed more, you break away to rip your shirt off and he rips his open. Buttons flying. Then a loud sound right in your ear ringing so loudly you can barely focus on kissing him.

You open your eyes and you're in your bed, alone. Well not totally, your phone is ringing like crazy. Completely annoyed that whoever it was had interrupted your dream.

You check the caller ID. Spencer. Uh oh. What if he was angry you requested a transfer. He had told you quite firmly to not do that. Oh well how bad could him being angry be? He was really sexy when he was angry anyway.

You pick up and hear his even sexier morning voice.

"I thought I specifically said do not request a transfer."

Not angry. More nervous? Concerned maybe.

"I said I would do anything for you." You reply picking at your nail.

"No you said, 'Whatever you want me to do l'll do it,' I didn't want you to transfer."

"Well do you want me to quit instead?" You start fixing your hair in the mirror as though he could see you.

"No that's not- why are you doing this. Really. Is it me?"He still sounds nervous.

"Yes, because you said, and i quote "We can't do this while we both are in the BAU." You put your fingers up as air quotes even though no one can see you. Well except your nosey neighbor, Terry, who's always peeking at your window. You wave at her while Spencer takes a deep breath.

"Just come into work today. Alright?"

"Work? I'm unemployed right now!" You joke.

"Just come in here. Come to my office right away when you get here. I need to speak to you in person about this."

Feeling more confident you speak in a sultry voice, "Yes, sir." You hang up and go to get ready.

After you hang up Spencer is in shock at your last words.

"Yes sir" Why had those two words been so hot coming from your mouth. He feels a certain rush of blood between his legs and curses. His stomach felt all tingly.

Butterflies they call it, normally caused by stress or anxiety but this wasn't stress or anxiety. I don't feel that around her. It's the release of norepinephrine in your central nervous system but does that mean i'm in love with her? He thought. (had to google that one)

"I'm going crazy." He says out loud and rubs his face with his hands.

"You still seem to have all your marbles to me." He looks up as David Rossi walks into his office and shuts the door. He gives him a look that says, you can tell me. Spencer spills his guts to Rossi about the whole situation. Well except for the part about his enlarged crotch. When he's done Rossi sits back in his chair and is silent. He crosses his legs and fixes his cufflinks. Cartier, probably way too expensive. Spencer thinks. Rossi finally speaks. "You're not crazy kid, you're an idiot."

Spencer looks taken aback, and opens his mouth to talk when Rossi speaks again. "No I know you have an IQ of 187 and can read 20,000 words per minute so statistically you're not an idiot. I mean in love. You're an idiot in love and if you don't let her transfer you're going to regret it for the rest of your life. Not only that, she is going to do everything in her power to drive you insane until you let in. Save yourself the trouble and when you two get married you can host the wedding in my backyard." He pats Spencer on the back and stops at the door. "Oh and incidentally you're not fooling anyone having that book in your lap. Don't worry it's perfectly natural to have that reaction. Good luck." With that he shuts the door and Spencer's mouth is left open in shock. As Emily once said, IQ of 187 slashed to 60.

You get to the doors of the BAU and give yourself a little pep talk while staring at Spencer's closed office door.

You shake off the nerves and click-clack up the stairs.

You knock softly on his door but he doesn't get up and open it. He simply calls out, "Come in." You, being very mature, giggle at the word come and push the door open and step in. In a form fitting dress that makes you look very beautiful and in the most flattering color, you look like a literal goddess. Spencer almost loses his mind completely at this look on you. Was he dreaming? Maybe. Since you're walking around his office admiring his awards and PHDs, he discreetly pinches his arm and feels pain instantly. Nope not dreaming. You stop looking around and he motions you to take a seat. You look at the comfy chair in front of him. You opt for sitting on his desk instead. He stares in shock as you hop up on his desk and swing your legs. He stares at them and then at your face. He's not saying anything so you start a conversation. "Aren't you glad we're not cartoon characters?" He snaps out of it and says "Huh?"

"I said aren't you glad we're not cartoon characters.

“Otherwise we'd have to wear the same outfits all the time."

"Oh- oh yeah I guess i've never really thought about that before." He is confused why you would bring this up. This has nothing to do with why you're really there.

"Like if this was Scooby-Doo I probably wouldn't be wearing this ah-dorable dress!" You put emphasis on the adorable part. Which makes him look up, but this means his face is level with your chest which is also emphasized today. He chokes up and manages to stammer out, "Y-y-yeah," His adorable puppy eyes look at you. Trying to avoid what's in front of him.

"What's the matter Reid? Cat got your tongue?" You smirk at the fact you're making him forget everything he knows. This newfound power you have over him is insane to you. Deep down, he really is still the same man from all those years ago, before all the bad happened to him. Still just as nervous around breasts as he always had been. “Why don’t you sign my transfer request, send it in, and then come over to my place tonight for a rendezvous, hmm?”

He nods then realizes, “What, no?!”

“I'm gonna make your life hell then." You smile and walk away. He gulps. He has a feeling he knows what you're going to do.

Garcia briefs you of the new case but all Spencer can focus on is your hand creeping up his thigh. Then you pull it away and you lift your dress up right in his view. To anyone else it would seem you were adjusting the the hem but he knew you were doing it just to torture him.

Well he wasn't going give in. What were you going to do take your bra off in front of the team?

The real reason he didn't want to sign your transfer was because if he did, it would all change, which he wasn't big on. He likes the banter with you while on cases. It lightens the mood when he feels stressed. He likes you being in his sights at all times. If you transferred he wouldn't see you all day and if you were to pursue a relationship with him? He would definitely worry about you even more than he already does. Truth is, he's terrified.

On the jet you still didn't let up. Everyone knew Spencer liked his time alone on the jet to read after discussing the case so they usually let him sit alone and do his own thing. You weren't about to let him have a moment of peace. You stand next to where he's sitting. "Seat taken?

You say pointing at the one across. He looks up from his book and shakes his head. You tell him, "Actually I think I'll take this one," You point to the seat next to him and before he can protest. You're crawling over him to get to the seat next to him. Your butt bumps his book and knocks it out of his hand. He's so flustered and red it makes you chuckle into your hand.

He mutters, "Now I'm REALLY going to not sign your request off."

You blow him a kiss, "It's your funeral." He picks his book back up and you grab another from his bag and start reading it. You bring your arm up his bicep and drag it up and down, up and down. It's quite relaxing and he ends up falling asleep. Something he hadn't done well in a while.

He wakes up when the jet lands in Florida. Since it's summer it's especially hot. He half expects to see you next to him in a bikini but you're not there. and his book you had borrowed tucked neatly back into his bag.

Everyone gets to the precinct except you. He pulls Ju to the side, "Where is y/n?" He whispers. Nervous if you're up to anything.

JJ looks up, "We sent her to make the hotel arrangements." Uh oh He pulls his phone out, contemplating calling you, when the lieutenant walks in he puts his phone away and shakes his hand and introduces everyone.

When you walk back into the station wearing a normal tank top and jean shorts, Spencer thinks it looks like normal attire thank goodness. Your shirt isn't even cropped and the shorts are tight and a little short but hey it's hot out. He lets it go and figured you'd be too embarrassed to try anything. Especially with the case at hand. Which was just a con artist who had scammed people out of millions of dollars but he needed to be stopped.

Emily and JJ go to speak to some of the people who had Luke and Matt spoke to the rest. There was a lot. Rossi and Dr Lewis went out to the last known location of the Unsub to profile, while You and Reid set up an evidence board and draw a profile up. "Definitely a white male mid 30s-40s l'd say." Reid stares at the map of all the locations. Definitely you agree in your head. You only plan on distracting him for a minute. When he stands up straight, You slide past him brushing against him. His breath hitches. So that was why you had worn the shorts. Then it gets worse. Or better. He doesn't know yet. You throw a marker on the floor. "Oopsie!" You bend over to grab it and stand back up and then throw it again. "Oopsie again!" You yet again bend over to grab it and he grabs your arm and sits you down.

"I know what's you're trying to do," he starts.

You cut him off quickly, "What do you think I'm trying to do sir?" You push your arms together and pout. He lets out a quick breath and then notices JJ and Emily come back. "We have a suspect in custody!" Emily announces excitedly. JJ shakes her head and smiles.

"She found him peeking in the window while we were speaking with the James family and she chased him down the street, through a bush and kicked in a gate and slammed him down. She's pretty proud of herself." You laugh knowing how Emily loves taking unsubs down.

You guys take a break for the night to get some rest.

Spencer reaches his assigned hotel room and he opens it. Nothing unusual. One bed. You're not here, so at least he'll probably get some sleep without thinking of your hips. Shit. Just when he thinks he's safe you walk through the door holding your keycard, smirking. "You didn't think you'd be alone tonight did you?" He pushes his face into his hands and flops on the bed stomach first. "Oh no, I forgot you made the hotel arrangements." Then he starts laughing. You start to unpack your bag with everything you'd be needing for that night. Careful to not let him see a few select items.

You go get ready in the bathroom. Wearing a purple see through slip you decide to ditch the underwear and sleep with nothing under. When you get out of the bathroom Spencer is turned around bent over his go bag. "Nice butt," You say and he stands up slightly embarrassed,

"You like it huh?" Then he turns around and sees you and your lack of clothing. "Purples your favorite right?" He nods slowly taking it all in. You climb into bed. Spencer's so tired he doesn't even do a night routine and slides in next to you. The both of you fall into dreams immediately. When he wakes up he realizes his arms are hugging you close to him and you're snuggled together and you're so warm and comforting. Then he gets an idea which he will put in motion the second they get back to the BAU. He leaves the room before you wake.

When you wake up you're all alone. Wondering where he had gone you fear you may have done too much, taken it too far. Maybe you had scared him off and he had waited until you were asleep and changed rooms. What if he-

Theres a knock at the door to the room so you go to get up. As you do the bathroom door opens and Spencer comes out with just a towel around his waist. You had never seen him shirtless and you were drooling. He opens the door and thanks the man for the room service.

"Ordered you breakfast," He says rolling the tray to the bed. "Stay there." He commands and you throw your legs back into bed as he sets a tray over you and he pours creamer into your coffee the way you like. He stirs it for you and you don't think about why he might be doing it you just lay back and enjoy him making your breakfast perfect. He pours the syrup on your waffles and you think about making a joke but decide against it to not scare him off. Thank goodness he had just been in the shower when you woke up. If he really didn't want to pursue a relationship with you and let you transter what was the point in trying anymore?

Was he even attracted to you?

When you're done eating and back in the precinct you manage to prove it was this guy who had in fact conned everyone out of millions. He was now on his way to being sent to prison awaiting trial. On the jet home Spencer notices you've stopped hitting on him and acting sexy.

Now you're all covered up wearing a big sweater with sweatpants. He frowns at the thought that maybe you were upset he hadn't played along with your games. He had wanted to. You'll see when you get back to the BAU he would fix it.

You go back home Spencer having told everyone to go home and rest and take time to recuperate after working hard. You were a little bitter at this and upset he declined your offer to come over to watch a movie. You decide to just take care of yourself and reach into your drawer for your vibrator. You fall into bed and turn it on.

An hour later when you're done you put on a fluffy robe and make yourself a snack and start watching New Girl. When your phone rings. Spencer. You answer with, “What?” "I don't mean to bother you, but can you come into the BAU I know you're probably busy relaxing but-"

"I once told you l'd do anything for you." You smile to yourself, he DID want to see you.

"Ok but don't go to my office. I'm in the big conference room on the floor above the BAU." After hanging up you were about to grab your purse and go but catch a look at yourself in the mirror. No makeup, hair out of place and in a bathrobe! After quickly changing into something professional you hurry to the BAU and go one floor up to the room he had told you. You prepare yourself and then push the door open.

"Agent (Y/N)!" You see the Director, Aaron Hotchner. He shakes your hand, "It's nice to see you again. Reid was just telling me that he would like a few rules changed..." You look at Spencer who's smiling like a kid who's parents just told him he's going to Disneyland. "More specifically, Spencer requested the rules on relationships within the unit be changed. We wanted your input. I would allow you and Spencer to pursue this relationship while both of you still work in the same unit under the condition it doesn't affect the way the unit works. If I notice ANY misconduct between you two while on a case you will both be suspended and these rules reevaluated. Do you both understand me?"

"Yes I understand." You and Spencer say at the same time.

"Good. Sign here." Hotch cracks a smile and hands you a pen. You sign next to Spencer's scribbled signature.

"Good luck to you both."You hug him, "Hey are you and Jack going to JJ and Will's this Saturday? They're having a little get together!"

You ask when you pull away.

"Wouldn't miss it!" He says as he walks away and waves bye. Leaving you alone with Spencer. "Wow. You actually changed the rules to the game. I'm impressed." You cross your arms and he stands up and walks over to you and kisses you as passionately as he feels. You can't believe he did all that for you. In between the kiss you break away to tell him you love him "I love-"

"I know. I love you too."

2 months later

"Get on your fucking knees." You command. Spencer falls to the floor immediately when you walk in. He's ready to do whatever you ask. You crack your leather whip and he jumps. With every click of your stiletto boots, excitement grows within both of you.

He may be the boss at work, but at home? You were in charge.

again, reposting so it’s all one post!

(this was inspired by @mandarinmoons post here)

i ♡ sub spence i had to include it.

[erectomyjunko]

a passage from one of my earlier chapters... reposted bc now I know how to do links!

(November 13, 1971)

That evening, Peter and Remus sat in the center of their dorm, legs up on the table. James and Sirius were off somewhere, even though it was already past curfew.

While Peter laid on the couch, Remus sat in one of the arm chairs, trying again to finish his Potions essay.

"Sirius is cool." Peter admitted, raising his eyebrows slightly at his own words. His eyes were fixed on the ceiling as he laid on the couch. "Bit weird, though. All posh and everything. Talks funny." 

"Yeah?" Remus replied, but with no real interest. Pete was funny, but Remus didn't think him a reliable source of information. "did you finish your essay?" 

"Not even close, I'll do it tomorrow night. Did you know his birthday was last week? We could've at least invited him to a game of Gobstones.."

"Had no idea," Remus lied, thought he didn't know why. He dipped his quill in the ink.

Peter nodded, and was quiet for a while as he tried spinning his wand around his fingers. A burst of white light shot out the tip of Peter's wand, narrowly missing Remus' head.

"Watch it!" Remus hissed, ducking out of the way as he did. 

"Sorry- sorry," Peter apologized as he stood up, looking where the white burst had landed. 

Their dorm room door had a singed hole in it. Thankfully it didn't go all the way through the door, so nobody outside could see- but it was still an issue.

"Happen to know any mending spells?" Peter asked hopefully, looking over at Remus, who just shook his head.

"I was hoping you did." Remus replied as he stood up next to Peter.

Both of them stayed standing there for several minutes, watching the singed door smoke ever so slightly.

"Should we hide it?" Remus finally broke the silence with a suggestion, scratching the back of his neck. 

"Yes Remus, let's hide an entire door." Peter voice was dripping with sarcasm, and he rolled his eyes. "Where do you suppose we put it, hm? Under Potters bed?" 

Peter got a quick smack upside the head from Remus. "Not the door, wanker! The burn! Do you have a poster or something?" 

A wicked grin quickly spread across Peter's face. "Oh do I!" he replied, tripping over the edge of the rug as he ran to his quarter of the dorm.

With pristine carefulness, Peter pulled a sheet of parchment out of his nightstand, as if it was some ancient artifact. 

Then he hung it up on the door, covering up the singed wood with his egregious doodle of their potions professor.

"The art of potions is not simple!" Peter began reciting their professors signature lecture, hand on his chest as if he was an opera singer.

"No- no please-" Remus clamped his hands over his ears, retreating to the other side of the dorm.

"It is just that! An art!"

"Pettigrew!"