#he’s stuck in a tree go rescue him

[eyeofnewtblog]

Just had a really weird job interview that actually made me think about my childhood…(I said I was independent and resourceful and was asked to provide examples)

My dad bought me my first car, but as soon as I had my drivers license, he told me I was grounded until I knew how to change a tire and change my own oil. I was grounded for about a week. The only help he gave me was showing me where the owners manual was and a few forums about my specific model of car.

My dad, while I was getting my permit to drive, required that I drive him up to the local Indian reservation for casino night (he would keep $150 in his right pocket and as soon he was out he would leave, he kept the winnings in his left pocket and as soon as he was $300 up we would leave) also he tried to teach his most mathematicalally challenged child how to count cards at black jack? Not a successful enterprise. I barely passed high school chemistry.

When I was twelve there was a cross continent moving situation that required my dad and I to move ahead of my mom and middle sister (this is the time he lit the stove on fire from trying to fry bacon…) after the stove incident, he dug out the recipe cards his mother had made for my mom when they got married, shoved them at me, along with the cordless 1990’s phone and said “I’ve dialed your Aunt Rock, (his older sister) Daddy wants biscuits and gravy, make her walk you through it.”

That’s how I learned to cook; having my aunt on speed dial and I would tell her what was in the cabinets, she would make a list for me to give to dad, and then she would walk me through the recipe. As I cooked it.

As a teenager, my dad knew that I was capable of cooking exactly what he wanted (IE exactly what his mom and big sis cooked while he was growing up) and as an adult I’ve had to actually learn to enjoy cooking as an actual experience and process and not just “what I was told”

When I was 21 my dad spent about $700 on brand new parts for a car I owned that was falling apart…I spent my 21st birthday drinking beer on my dad’s driveway tearing apart my van to replace rotors and brakes, while my boyfriend at the time and dad sat back and did nothing while calling me a great little grease monkey.

Honestly, I’m still not sure if I’m proud or humiliated by that, but the grease monkey comment came from the bf and he didn’t last much longer…

I don’t know. Obviously I didn’t make myself quite this vulnerable when I was in the actual interview, but it feels good to be vulnerable after the fact?

I just feel like my dad gave me a lot of tools to figure shit out for myself, and being resourceful is actually a really great quality. Feeling? Idk.

Being resourceful gives you independence.

Because any problems that come up? There’s either a YouTube tutorial, a blog, or SOMETHING available as a resource. And if you’re out of internet service???? There’s literally a book in your glove compartment somewhere telling you what to do.

[thebestandworstdayofjune]

clark kent loves quietly

This is a collection of head canons I wrote with David!Clark in mind, but would really work for any Clark iteration. That teaser trailer did something to my brain

He knows that you hate being spooked, and his quiet footfalls have gotten the better of you more times than you would ever admit. When he comes home from a day of work, or finds you tucked into whatever you are working on, he purposefully makes sure that his footfalls are heavy, so that you hear him coming. You jump slightly when he notches his chin in the space between your head and shoulder, but he is quick to squeeze you tight and soothe them away. 

You would think that he tries to fight your battles for you, protection hard wired into his veins. But he’s much the opposite. He knows that you can take care of yourself (super-human threats excluded, of course) and is happy to watch you stand up for yourself. It’s nice to see you love yourself loudly by making your wishes known. 

This man can cook. He spent a lot of time with his mom in the kitchen, who used cooking to cope after his father passed. He absorbed every second of it, intent on making the memories last. Food is one of his love languages now. He will pick up your favorites if he is eating out, but when you are having a particularly hard day, he plops you down on the couch with your beverage of choice in hand, and insists you don’t move. You had assumed that cooking would be frustrating for him, all the super speed in the world can’t make onions caramelize faster, but he finds it so soothing- especially when he knows that you’re going to give him one of your big smiles, the kind saved just for him, at the end of it all. His specialties are casseroles and chilis and his mom’s fluffy biscuits, if you were wondering. 

Does his best to mind his business (keeping his super hearing off the speed of your heart) as long as you promise to let him know what is bothering you as soon as you’re comfortable. He hates to see you hurting, but also respects that sometimes you need to process on your own. It’s unspoken between the two of you, you’ll curl up with him when you’re ready and spill your guts, and he will have a super powered ear at the ready. 

Any of your accomplishments are office gossip for weeks, because he is telling everyone. A picture of you with the degree you finished several months into dating is framed on his desk, when you accept his proposal he finds ways to slip it into most conversations. You always blush, which fills him with pride. He insists it isn’t gossiping if it’s talking about yourself. You smile and resist the urge to point out that it is often more so about you. He views you as a singular unit in all things, and you can’t find it in yourself to complain.

Clark was simultaneously terrified when you figured out that he was the one flying around the city fighting super humans (and rescuing the occasional cat stuck in a tree), and not the least bit surprised. He has long considered you one of the smartest people that he has ever known. He chides himself for not preparing for it better. He stood speechless for several moments, before tripping over his words, a muddled confusion of explanation and apology. He calmed when you smiled shyly at him, approaching him like he might spook at any minute. He stilled, allowing you to take control of the situation and gently slip your hand into his. You squeezed, he squeezed back, and the rest was history.

[moonstruckme]

hi maeee!!!! i loveeee your new theme and i saw you have requests open!!! i have a halloween idea hope its all right!!

i dont know if it fits remus more (personally i see him more fitting for this) or poly!marauders but i was thinking… u know how people target black cats during halloween season??? (makes me sooo sad its so heartbreaking) my request is basically them walking back from a date or somewhere and seeing a tiny black kitten in a little trap or stuck and its all stressed and they rescue it and reader keeps fussing over the tiny little thing and taking care of it while they wait for someone to come and claim it and she gets the cat little costumes and treats so they decide to keep it??? hope its okay!!!

Hey lovely! I had never heard of this (how horrifying though!) so I looked it up and I wanted to direct you to this article in case it calms your anxieties. If you do ever witness anyone doing this though, please call the police and SCPA (or whatever animal welfare service is near you)!! And thanks for requesting <3

cw: attempted animal cruelty (it's foiled, don't worry)

Remus Lupin x fem!reader ♡ 608 words

You shush Remus mid-sentence. 

He’s not so much offended as surprised. Curious, too. Your brow is wrinkled as if you’ve forgotten something and you’re trying to recall what it is. “Did you—”

“Wait, wait, shh.” 

Remus pauses for a few seconds while you cock your head, looking seemingly at nothing. 

“Dove,” he says quietly, “if you don’t want to hear about the book, it’s—”

“No, sorry.” You set a hand on his shoulder, still looking away from him. “Do you hear that?” 

“Hear what?” 

“It’s…” Your brows bunch even closer together, and then you’re moving, off the sidewalk and onto someone’s grass. 

Remus follows, because that’s what he does with you, apparently. You go around the side of the house, and then he hears it. A faint, desperate mewling.

“Oh, oh my god,” you breathe, your footsteps hastening. Remus has to lengthen his strides to catch up to you. When he gets closer, he sees you’ve found a cat stuck in a tree. 

Or, hardly. More like a kitten stuck in a sapling. It's small and black and trembling on a branch about the same height as Remus’ chest, which it’s bound to by a thin rope around its neck. The rope looks frayed and loosely tied, like it might just unravel if the kitten were to try and jump down, but he and the kitten seem in agreement that it’s hardly worth the risk. The poor thing’s cries worsen when it sees you coming towards it. 

“Oh, poor baby.” You reach out to touch it. It hisses at you but doesn’t snap its teeth, all bark and no bite. “Did somebody tie it here? Who would do this?” 

“I don’t know,” Remus answers honestly. 

The kitten’s trepidation of you wears off quickly, cautious dark eyes watching as you use a knuckle to rub gently underneath its chin. When it starts purring, Remus coos. 

“Hello, darling,” he murmurs, trying his hand at scratching between its ears. The kitten’s eyes close blissfully, the rest of its fear seemingly evaporating. A trusting nature coaxed out by less than a minute of gentleness. Remus hates to think of what prior treatment caused it to tremble and hiss. “Would you like to get out of here?” 

The rope is tied just loosely enough that Remus can get his fingers in between it and the kitten’s neck, the knot coming undone with a few tugs. You lift the kitten out of the tree as soon as it’s freed, cradling it close to your chest. 

“Hi, sweet baby,” you coo in a voice like spun sugar, light and sweet. “Oh, you’re such a love, aren’t you? It’s okay.” 

Your new friend seems content to be coddled. It curls up in your hands and purrs loud enough that even Remus can hear it rumbling like a heart-aching little motor. 

“It’s so little.” You sound awed, looking down at the kitten with pure adoration. Remus can’t help smiling at you with much the same sentiment. “Can we take it home? Just until we find it a good family.”

“Sure, dovey.” His own voice matches your soft tone. “I think we should. It certainly can’t stay here.” 

“No.” You frown. It’s more than justified, but Remus finds he can’t abide it anyway. He kisses your downturnt lips. 

“We’ll pick up some food and treats on the way home,” he says. 

“Oh!” Your face lights up. “I saw some little bat wings in the store last week, wouldn’t that be cute? It could be a tiny bat for Halloween.” 

Remus smiles and agrees. He knows already that this kitten isn’t going to any family other than your own.

[callsigns-haze]

i love your writing so much !!!! it’s kinda similar to another story you have but i was wondering if i could request your take on the twisters scene towards the end when tyler’s leg gets stuck under the debris in the town square ?? like reader is the one running over to him completely worried & stressed because her man is hurt 🥺

Not leaving

Pairing: Tyler Owens x Reader

Summary: Y/N races to save Tyler, trapped under debris after a tornado, refusing to leave his side until he's safely rescued.

Chapter Warnings: Intense storm danger, injury, descriptions of pain, and emotional distress.

The town square was a scene of devastation, the aftermath of the tornado leaving a trail of destruction in its wake. Buildings were reduced to rubble, cars overturned, and debris scattered everywhere. The air was thick with dust, the scent of rain and earth mingling with the acrid smell of smoke from a nearby fire.

Y/N’s heart pounded as she navigated through the wreckage, her eyes scanning the chaotic scene for any sign of Tyler. The last time she’d seen him, he had been trying to help a group of people take cover in a nearby building. But when the tornado hit, everything turned to chaos, and she’d lost sight of him.

“Tyler!” Y/N’s voice cracked as she called out, desperation lacing her tone. She clambered over a fallen tree, ignoring the sting of a cut on her leg, her only thought to find him, to make sure he was okay.

Suddenly, she spotted him—pinned under a massive piece of debris in the middle of the square. His face was pale, and he was struggling to move, pain etched across his features.

“Tyler!” Y/N screamed, rushing to his side. She dropped to her knees next to him, her hands shaking as she reached out to touch his face, to reassure herself that he was still there.

“Y/N…” Tyler’s voice was strained, his breath coming in short gasps. “I’m… I’m stuck.”

Y/N’s eyes filled with tears as she took in the sight of his leg trapped under the heavy debris. She could see the pain he was in, the way his hands clenched into fists as he tried to fight it.

“I’m going to get you out of here,” she promised, her voice trembling but determined. “Just hold on, okay? I’ll get help.”

She looked around frantically, but everyone else was either injured or already helping others. There was no time to wait for someone else. She had to do this herself.

“Stay with me, Tyler,” Y/N said, her voice tight with emotion as she crouched down and tried to lift the debris off his leg. It was heavy, far too heavy for her to move on her own, but she didn’t care. She wasn’t going to let him suffer, not for one more second.

Tyler groaned in pain as she strained against the weight, tears slipping down her cheeks as she gave it everything she had. But the debris barely budged, and she could see the anguish in his eyes.

“Y/N, stop…” Tyler managed to say, his voice hoarse. “You’ll hurt yourself. I… I’ll be okay. Just go get help.”

“I’m not leaving you,” Y/N choked out, shaking her head. “I’m not leaving you here, Tyler. I can’t.”

She tried again, her muscles burning with the effort, but the debris still wouldn’t move. Frustration and fear clawed at her, and she let out a sob, her hands trembling as she gripped his.

“Please, Tyler… just hold on a little longer,” she whispered, her tears falling onto his skin. “Help is coming, I promise.”

Tyler’s hand squeezed hers weakly, his eyes softening despite the pain. “I’m not going anywhere, Y/N. I promise.”

Finally, she heard the shouts of other rescuers approaching. Y/N turned to see a group of first responders rushing toward them, their faces grim as they took in the scene.

“Please, help him!” Y/N cried out, stepping back to let them work.

The rescuers quickly assessed the situation, then moved in with tools to lift the debris. It felt like an eternity as they carefully freed Tyler’s leg, Y/N watching with bated breath, her hands clenched tightly together.

When they finally managed to lift the debris, Tyler let out a pained groan, but Y/N was there in an instant, holding his hand and whispering reassurances. They quickly stabilized his leg and prepared to move him to safety.

“You did it, Y/N,” Tyler murmured as they lifted him onto a stretcher. His voice was weak, but there was a faint smile on his lips. “You saved me.”

Y/N leaned down, pressing a kiss to his forehead, her tears of relief mingling with the dirt and sweat on his skin. “I’m just glad you’re okay,” she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. “I couldn’t lose you, Tyler. Not now, not ever.”

As they loaded him into the ambulance, Y/N climbed in beside him, never letting go of his hand. The storm had passed, but the fear of losing him still lingered, a shadow over the relief she felt at having him alive and safe.

“Just rest now,” she whispered, her thumb brushing over his knuckles gently. “I’m right here, and I’m not going anywhere.”

Tyler’s eyes fluttered closed, exhaustion overtaking him, but his grip on her hand remained firm. And as they sped away from the wreckage of the town square, Y/N knew that no matter what storms they faced, they would face them together.

Requests for Tyler are open be free to send in as much as you wish!

tagging some:

@senawashere

@saviorcomplexrry

@cevansbaby-dove

@saynotononsense

@missdottie

@willowisp7

@taorislover94

@eloquenceinpurple

@86laura11

@rosiahills22

@jessicab1991

@kmc1989

@shanimallina87

@eternalsams

@teen-antisocial

@katiemcrae

[lilithofpenandbook]

You know what? We needed more of Snape being just a deliberately unhelpful lil shit to the other teachers. He's essentially their adult child. He was raised by pretty much everyone else there. He's not even forty. You get wizards living past a hundred. Snape's literally a kid compared to them, and that was such a missed opportunity imo

Give me Snape being sarcastic and sassy to his former teachers just because. Snape making references or using terms he knows full well the others are too old to get. Snape going "okay boomer" to McGonagall when she's annoyed with him and not explaining what that means. Snape being the only person who knows how modern inventions work. Snape practically throwing tantrums because No I am not a child how dare you keep treating me as such stop fucking PICKING ME UP AND THROWING ME. Snape having to call the older ladies 'Auntie' because he physically can't call them by name alone just because it sounded so weird when he became a teacher and now it's stuck. Snape having to deal with the older teachers still talking to him like he's a child. Snape secretly trying to get their approval and validation. Snape being dramatic and whining when told to do something small by one of the older teachers. Snape being the one they send to do things like getting water because they're too lazy to get it and Snape's right there. Snape having to be the one to physically rescue students because suddenly all the others are too old to go climbing in trees and he doesn't have that excuse yet. Snape having two different voices, the Professor voice and the Severus voice and so the Severus voice is his actual way of speaking and it's much less formal and a lot younger but because, when he started teaching, a majority of his students had been his school mates he decided to act like he was actually about fifty four and make them respect him. Snape who gives himself a resting bitch face on purpose to appear older and more intimidating

Just Snape actually acting like the youngest.

[msnmnt]

The Very First Night

Notes: Happy New Year’s Eve Eve!

I think this is my longest fic yet so I really hope you enjoy. Feedback is very much welcomed as always 🥰

Summary: On New Year's Eve, Mason’s car breaks down, leaving you both stranded in the middle of nowhere. With no choice but to find shelter till you can be rescued in the morning, you stumble upon a little B&B where you end up sharing a bed for the night. Lots of fluff as you navigate the uncertainty and awkwardness of unexpectedly being so close early on in your relationship. 🩶

You tried your best to keep your smile at bay as you looked out of the passenger window of Mason’s car. The soft sound of the radio played in the background, enjoying an otherwise comfortable silence as Mason navigated the winding country roads that looped around the lakes, guiding the two of you home.

Your fingers absent mindingly traced at the edge of the map you’d been following throughout the day, spending hours in quaint cafes, visiting quirky shops as you enjoyed some time together away from the non stop festivities.

The day had been nothing short of perfect - just the two of you away from everything with no real direction as you let the day unfold as it pleased.

After meeting at a mutual friend’s Halloween party, Mason had taken you on a few dates with each one topping the last, but you knew this one would be even tougher to beat.

The sun had began to dip beneath the horizon when a jarring sound suddenly interrupted the quiet of the car. A loud thump was followed by a scraping noise and Mason’s eyes darted to the mirror as the car veered slightly to one side.

“Shit," he muttered, slowing the car as he led it to the side of the road. "I think we’ve got a flat tyre.”

Your heart skipped in your chest as you turned to him, your voice light with worry. “Seriously?”

Mason let out a soft laugh in disbelief this was actually happening, running a hand through his hair. “Unfortunately I think so, angel.”

Your heart fluttered in your chest once more, this time at the nickname Mason had recently given you.

Mason managed to get the car into a lay by, parking it up as close to the side as possible. The evening was growing darker by the minute and all that was on Mason’s mind was how he could keep you as safe as possible.

“Wait here, I’ll go check what the damage is.” You watched on from the comfort of your heated seat as he scrunched up his brows, his tongue darting out as he inspected the tyre. After a few more moments of him shining the torch light from his phone to inspect the damage, Mason signalled it wasn't good news as he shook his head, his disappointed eyes meeting yours.

You unbuckled your seatbelt before stepping out of the car and joining Mason, straight away noticing the sharp nail that had somehow ended up impaling your transportation home.

You glanced around, tugging your bottom lip between you teeth as you thought about what you were doing to do. It was New Year’s Eve, you were quite literally in the middle of nowhere and the nearest town, or even a shop, felt miles away.

“What do we do now?” you asked, uncertainty creeping into your voice.

Mason walked around the car, inspecting the flat tyre again, He shook his head, his expression half-amused and half-annoyed. “Well, it's New Year's Eve so everyone’s probably at least half cut by now.” He signed. “And the wait for recovery is bound to be hours.”

You swallowed, trying to push down the nervousness that bubbled in your chest. "So… what, we’re just stuck here?"

Mason looked back at you with a soft smile, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he tried to comfort you, sensing your apprehension at being stranded in the middle of nowhere.

Mason took your hand in his and suddenly everything felt like it would be okay.

The quiet of the countryside was broken only by the distant rustle of wind through the trees and the occasional car driving by in the distance, too far to flag down to ask for any kind of help.

“We passed a bed and breakfast not long ago, it’s just back up the road.”

You nodded, thankful to have somewhere where the two of you could feel safer than the roadside till someone was sober enough to come to your rescue in the morning.

Mason tightly gripped your hand as he spun you around so he was walking closest to the road offer he led you back in the direction you had came from. Luckily after around just 10 minutes later, you arrived at the cozy, ivy-covered inn that Mason had spotted earlier. The B&B had an old-world charm, bright lights from the windows gleaming in the early evening gloom.

You let your body embrace the warm as soon as you walked in, leaving Mason to do all the explaining to the old woman behind the desk. Luckily she was sweet and accommodating, gushing at how cold and worried you must've been.

“You're in luck, we have one room left,” she explained, her voice raspy but kind. “It’s got a large bed, so you two should be fine."

Mason glanced across to you, his heart suddenly thudding harder than it had all day. Your eyes flicked up to his, equally unsure of what to say. You'd been on a few dates, but the pair of you had agreed to take things slow.

And sharing a bed?

That was new ground entirely.

“Is that okay?” Mason asked, trying to sound casual but failing a little as he snapped you from your thoughts.

You hesitated at first but quickly nodded when you realised, offering the lady a thankful smile. “I think we’ll manage."

The room was small but charming, a warm looking quilt covering the bed and lace curtains blowing gently in the cool breeze that came from the window which was slightly ajar.

The light from a single lamp cast a soft glow over the room, and you felt your nerves spike, unsure of how you were going to handle this unexpected first night together.

A self proclaimed control freak, a B&B in the middle of nowhere was not how you had invisioned your first night with Mason.

He put the few belongings he did have down onto the small wooden desk, consisting of a phone charger and a small toiletries bag that he was grateful he always kept in the boot of his car.

“I hope she didn’t think this was a one night stand.” Mason spoke, the idea of the sweet old lady thinking he had bought a one night stand to her small and clearly family run B&B making him feel a little guilty.

You mockingly gasped, your jaw dropping open and eyes widening. “Excuse me, do I look like a one night stand kind of girl?” You thought your voice was clear with sarcasm, but Mason’s jaw tensed slightly as he became overcome with worry that he had offended you. Mason knew your relationship was still in its early days, and he daren't put even a foot wrong to mess up what he was sure was the best thing that had ever happened to him.

Mason internally cursed himself for his comment, looking like a deer in the headlights as he tried to explain himself. “No! No, not at all, I just meant because we have literally like almost no belongings between us, I didn’t mean it like th-“

Your lips turned upwards as a giggle fell from your lips, a sound Mason was sure was one of the sweetest to have ever graced his ears. A wave of relief washed over Mason as he realised you were only playing around.

“Did you, um, would you want my shirt? To sleep in, I mean.” His eyes dropped down to take in your attire, a long sleeved knitted dress with a bulky cardigan over the top. “Dresses aren’t the most comfortable to sleep in.”

You raised your eyebrows. “And do you have much experience sleeping in dresses, Mr Mount?”

Mason’s cheeks reddened as he struggled to come up with a response, and you begun to feel a little bad at your relentless teasing. As much as you loved seeing him getting flustered, you felt a little guilty and didn’t want to end up accidentally pissing him off, especially when you were stranded in the middle of nowhere with no means of getting home.

You bowed your head slightly, unable to look at him. “I’m sorry, sarcasm is my defence mechanism when I’m nervous.” You mumbled out, offering a shy, apologetic smile.

“Why’re you nervous, angel?” He stepped forwards, reaching out a hand to cradle your face. It was your turn to blush this time, his long fingers cupped perfectly around your burning cheek, which did wonders to settle his own nerves. “There’s nothing to worry about, it’s just me.”

Your heart jumped in your chest as his dark orbs stared so intensely down at you. “Sharing a bed with a pretty boy is a little nerve wracking.” You admitted sheepishly.

A grin plastered across his face at your words. “Just imagine how nervous I feel with how gorgeous you are then.” He booped your nose with his thumb and you couldn't fight a big smile from forming on your face, perfectly matching his.

“I’d like it. Your shirt, if that’s still okay.”

Straight away Mason nodded. “Of course.” he took a step back and pulled at the collar of his white tee, stripping it off his body and over his head.

He muddled with the shirt, attempting to fold it up before walking over to the queen size bed and placing it on top of the duvet. Your eyes raked over his body, your heart booming as you stared at his perfectly defined back, blood rushing straight to your head as he turned to face you and you took in his bare chest for the first time.

His heart soared as your eyes became fixated on his abs, scanning over the ridges of his muscles, the light sprinkling of hair on his chest. You were completely and utterly enamoured with him.

You knew you had been caught by the smirk that was spread across Mason’s face, but he was more than happy to let you indulge in his body all you liked, deciding not to risk potentially embarrassing you by drawing attention to it.

“I’ll go to the bathroom, give you some time to get changed, okay?”

You just nodded, words escaping you as your gaze moved to his slight smile, being unable to look him in the eyes.

As soon as you heard the bathroom door click shut, you let out the breath you didn’t realise you had been holding in.

You wandered over to the small mirror that was above an old fashioned wooden desk, tousling your hair between your fingers before rubbing at the smudged eyeliner under your eyes, trying your best to rub away the mess.

You removed your cardigan, carefully placing it over the chair underneath the desk. It looked equally as ancient as the rest of the furniture in the room, and you definitely didn’t want to break anything.

You slipped off your dress, cursing yourself for not wearing matching underwear. You frowned at your boring baby pink bralette and white knickers. You couldn’t never preempted that this was the way the day was going to end.

Walking over to the end of the bed, you picked up Mason’s top and pulled it over your head, the familiar smell of his aftershave enveloping you. The shirt just about covered your bum, hitting the top of your thighs.

“Am I okay to come out?

You jumped at the sound of Mason’s voice from behind the en-suite door, taking one last look in the mirror before quickly making your way over to the bed.

“Yeah.”

If he was at home, Mason would never go to bed in anything more than a pair of boxers. But he didn’t want to risk giving you the wrong idea or making you feel uncomfortable, and so he decided to keep his jogging bottoms from the day on.

Right on queue, Mason walked in to you flopping onto the bed, stifling a laugh when the bed made an almighty creak as you settled atop it. You frowned, sitting yourself up and cringing as the bed squeaked further at your every move.

“So minimal movements throughout the night, got it.” Mason laughed, climbing onto the bed himself.

He finally turned to you, a sickly sweet feeling swarming in his tummy as he took in the sight of you in his shirt. You begun to feel nervous as you felt his eyes taking in your body, feeling a little self conscious, repositioning to enable you to tug the duvet up and wrap it over your lower body.

Mason joined you under the duvet, quickly extending his arm and beckoning for you to come snuggle up to him. You gladly obliged, tucking your head under his arm and wrapping your arm around his bare chest. The warmth of his skin against the side of your face made your mind feel hazy, the new position adding an element of intimacy to your relationship which you hadn’t been expecting to come so soon, but now it was here, you were glad to welcome it.

The clock on the wall seemed to tick louder than it had before. The quiet, steady rhythm of its hands echoed in the stillness of the room as the pair of you laid intertwined, barely moving as you just enjoyed the intimacy of the situation you had ended up in, your legs tangling together as you listened to Mason’s steady heartbeat.

The warmth from the bed had settled between you, but it was the quiet energy in the air that made it feel like time itself had slowed. You were close - closer than you had ever been before, and despite the nerves you couldn't deny how right it felt to be held in Mason's arms.

Outside, the faint sound of fireworks popped in the distance, echoing through the dark and signaling the approach of the new year. You looked back over at the ticking clock on the wall before glancing at Mason, your breath catching when you realised how close to midnight it was.

"Ten minutes to go," you murmured, voice quiet, barely above a whisper.

Mason nodded, flicking between you and the clock, then back to your face. You lifted your head slightly, still comfortably in his arms, his eyes dark and warm in the low light. They quickly locked on your lips for a brief moment before he pulled his stare back to your eyes, but the look hadn't gone unnoticed.

There it was again - the pull, the undeniable magnetic force. You felt it more now than ever.

“So, you got any resolutions?” Mason asked, his voice cracking slightly as he tried to shake the nerves. He shifted a little, the arm you weren't laying on coming down to rest on your shoulder, his thumb brushing gentle strokes on your bare skin.

You felt shivers go up your spine, your cheeks warming as he held you so tightly to his chest. Your lips twitched into a smile. “Maybe… to stop feeling so nervous around you." You paused, then added with a teasing glint in your eyes, “And to learn how to stop blushing whenever you look at me.”

Mason laughed, low and soft, but his eyes softened when they met yours. “I don’t think you can stop blushing. I mean… it’s cute."

Your heart skipped again, and you couldn’t help the way your face warmed, despite your attempts to play it cool.

You gave in, hiding your face into his chest which vibrated as he chuckled at seeing you flustered.

You gathered the courage to raise your hand up to his bare chest, gently tracing little shapes with your finger tip. A low laugh hit your ears and you swallowed at the feel of being so close to Mason for the first time. You loved his warm skin on yours, his heart now thudding loudly away under your touch.

“Tickles, baby.” Mason mumbled and you smiled, secretly rather pleased with yourself, switching to use your nails to drag random patterns over his abs. The sensation made Mason tighten his grip on your waist making goosebumps form on your body.

You let out a satisfied hum, rather pleased with yourself before stopping and twitching slightly to nuzzle further into Mason’s grip.

You cuddled back into his chest and Mason was quick to wrap his arm tightly around you once more. You laid there in complete content, not being able to stop your eyes from fluttering closed.

Mason smiled to himself, happy you felt comfortable around him.

“You sleepy, angel?” He murmed, and you barely managing to mumble back a yes.

“I wasn’t but you’re warm and cosy.”

He chuckled at that, his heart warming.

Mason lent down and gently placed a tender kiss to your head, his lips barely brushing your forehead before caressing the bare skin of your arm with the pads of his fingers.

The sound of fireworks echoed through the room, the familiar tone of the new year ringing out across the quiet, making the moment feel all the more real. Your pulse quickened, and for a moment, the world outside - the fireworks, the noise, the time - it all faded.

The pair of you were only aware of each other.

You turned your head up to Mason just as the last chime rang out. He glanced at you lovingly, taking in the moment. You swallowed, your heart beating louder in your chest. His gentle movements, the way he held you as the clock struck midnight. You knew you were right where you needed to be.

"Happy New Year, y/n." He whispered.

Before you could respond, his hand gently cupped your cheek. He leaned in slowly, his eyes never leaving yours, searching for something, permission, maybe, but you didn’t want to wait anymore. You tilted your head slightly, feeling your breath catch in your throat as you closed the distance.

The kiss was tentative at first, a soft meeting of your lips that lingered longer than either of you expected. A simple touch, almost shy, yet full of everything you were yet to say. Mason's lips were warm, his hand brushing a lock of hair behind your ear as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

Your hand found its way back to his chest, feeling the drum of his heartbeat beneath your palm. When he pulled back, just a fraction, your foreheads met, and for a long, lingering moment, neither of you moved.

“I didn’t think we'd end up here tonight.” Mason whispered, his voice rougher than before. “I mean, in bed with each other.”

You smiled, lips tingling from the softness of the kiss. “Me neither.” Your fingers gently traced the edge of his jaw, your gaze locked with his. “But I’m glad we did.”

“Me too,” he breathed, his voice barely above a whisper. He shifted closer, the warmth of his body against yours sending an electric thrill through your veins.

You both knew it was more than just a kiss. It wasn’t just about the timing or the situation shared between you. It was the feeling - the way everything about today now felt like it was leading to this exact moment. A kiss shared in the quiet of an unexpected new year, both of you uncertain and shy but so completely, undeniably there in the moment.

For a moment, you just stayed close, breathing each other in. The fireworks were lighter now and through the light curtains you could see bursts of bright colours against the dark sky. But inside the room, it was just the two of you. Silent, content, and intertwined in a way neither had imagined would happen yet.

Mason didn't want to push his luck, completely respectful of your boundaries and not wanting to risk making you feel uncomfortable. But when he saw your eyes fixated on his again, following them down as they flickered towards his lips, he gently brushed his lips against yours once again, this time allowing himself to deepen the kiss as he slipped his tongue past your slightly parted lips. The moment was still soft and tender, both of you basking in the intimacy.

When you finally pulled away, it was slowly, as if neither of you wanted to fully break the spell.

You looked at Mason, cheeks flushed, a soft smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "Happy New Year, Mason."

He returned your smile, his eyes shining bright with excitement for what was to come in the year ahead for the pair of you. “Happy New Year, y/n.”

[i-drop-level-one-loot]

*NSFW* I'll keep you warm (Yandere!Lynx Shifter X GN!Reader)

CW: Intense temperature exposure , Yandere behavior, dub-con, dead dove, imprisonment/abduction

Inspired by @lonelyafacy 's monster suggestion ❤️

Mother Nature was a cruel and indifferent witch, unforgiving towards those foolish enough to tread her wilderness. (Reader) smacked their dying flashlight, becoming numb to the harsh winter cold through their snowsuit.

The weather had turned for the worse, changing from a snowy winter's day into a blizzard that lasted into the night, separating (Reader) from their group. Their lips were stuck together with frozen blood, and their eyes could barley stay open. The snow coming down was deceptively sharp, nicking their cheeks above the slipping scarf and turning their skin into fragile paper.

Although they pushed on, trying to use the stars amongst the flurry of white as their guide, their limbs were losing their feeling, and (Reader) was beginning to wonder if it was worth the battle. The flashlight flickered again as though it could hear their thoughts. (Reader's) knees buckled, causing them to collapse by the base of a tree. They pulled their limbs in under their body, and fell unconscious, incapable of keeping themselves awake through the cold.

Am I dead?

(Reader) smelled something cooking before they realized they felt warmth. They hadn't been anywhere near civilization, so the first semi coherent thought they had was that they had died and this was heaven. Until their muscles began twitching in pain. A large hand pressed (Reader) back into a mound of furs when they forced themselves to move. The hand was warm and strong, even through the blankets (Reader) could feel it.

"Sleep." A gravelly voice commanded.

(Reader) kept their eyes closed, face mostly buried in the cloud like bedding. "Where am I?"

"My home. I found you outside." The unknown man responded while moving around the home, floorboards creaking under his weight. "Sleep more. It'll hurt less." His sentences were short and curt, but (Reader) didn't mind. Whoever he was had saved their life, so he couldn't be too bad of a person. (Reader) fell asleep again.

After thirteen hours (Reader) woke up and was able to sit up without pain, still feeling exhausted despite sleeping for such a long time. Their stomach hurt from hunger. "Hello?" They called out for whoever had rescued them.

A giant entered into view, wearing a hood that obscured his face from (Reader). He held out a wooden bowl filled with some kind of stew. "Can you eat?"

(Reader) reached out from the blankets, immediately going into shock when they saw their own naked arms. "Where are my clothes?"

"Drying. You think I'd put you sopping wet in my bed?"

Embarrassed, (Reader) turned red, ashamed for doubting their hero for even a second. They grabbed the bowl, thanking the man quietly.

"The blizzard has gotten worse. Even I can't leave right now. Once the storm has passed I'll point you in the direction you need to go. Until then, stay warm. Heal up."

"...Thank you."

"You already said that."

"That was for the food. Thank you for saving me."

Although he had his back turned to (Reader) they could see him tense under their words. (Reader) assumed he was uncomfortable with their presence, based on how he kept his face hidden. "My name is (Reader)."

"You don't need to know my name." The man's response was almost panicked, growling as he stormed out of the room.

(Reader) was left upset over the fact that they seemed to anger their savior. He must be anti social..

They finished the bowl of stew and waited under the fur blankets, unable to take care of their dish without walking around in the nude. After some time he returned, taking the bowl without a word, his hand seemed huge in comparison to (Reader's).

"Thank you." They smiled up politely, hoping he was looking. The man shuddered again, hurrying away with the bowl. (Reader) cleared their throat. "Are my clothes dry yet?"

"Your jacket was frozen solid when I found you. It took a few hours just to thaw. Everything is still damp."

"Why were you outside in this weather?"

"I was on my way back from some last minute hunting and gathering."

"Ah, I see. Thank you. Again."

"There is no need to thank me." His body seemed to relax. (Reader) smiled, hoping that this meant they were wearing him down.

"You saved my life. I got separated from my friends and couldn't find my way in the dark. I would have died out there if it wasn't for you." (Reader) spoke as sincerely as they could. "You're my hero."

He took a deep breath. "I have... lived alone for a very long time. No one knows that I am here. I almost... left you, when I found you."

(Reader's) heart grew heavy with guilt. "I promise I won't tell anyone about you." They briefly imagined that under his cloak was a kind of Quasimodo esque being, who risked his identity to save them.

Even without seeing his face the man seemed surprised, turning to (Reader) and staring from under his hood.

"Cain."

(Reader) gave a large toothy grin. "It's nice to meet you, Cain."

They sat together in a strangely comfortable silence, before a gurgle reminded (Reader) that, unfortunately, they were still human. "Do you have a restroom?"

His relaxed demeanor stiffened again. "It is.. down the hall." He quickly handed an oversized shirt to (Reader) before turning his back for privacy, and pointes in the direction of the facilities.

(Reader) threw the shirt on without thinking too much about it, and painfully hopped to the toilet. The building was a cozy little cabin, (Reader) was just now realizing, with pictures hung up on the wall of a family. They wondered if it was Cain's family. But the need to go was stronger than their curiosity.

They collapsed onto the toilet before realizing that there was an odd smell in the bathroom. It wasn't the normal bad stench of a toiletries, but it smelled rotten.

In the corner of the room was a pile of clothes, and other than that the restroom seemed to be empty, with nothing that could be causing such a smell standing out to (Reader). (Reader) didn't want to be snoopy, but... They finished hurriedly, praying that Cain couldn't hear them, and picked up the clothing. The clothes were heavy, torn into shreds and soaked in old, dried blood. A chill ran down (Reader's) spine. Cain didn't want anyone to know he was here. He considered leaving me to die to keep that secret.

How far could I make it in just a shirt?

They left the restroom, trying their best to appear normal. The family on the walls taunted them. Did the blood belong to one of them?

Cain sat by the fire, still hiding under his cloak. Next to him was (Reader's) clothes, hung up on the back of a chair. Maybe I'm just jumping to conclusions. (Reader) sighed, placing a hand on their heart to muffle it's pounding. He still saved me.

(Reader) touched their shirt, feeling the warm dampness and was relieved, because it meant Cain hadn't been lying about that at least. "How long do you think this storm will last?"

"Hopefully just the night. It could last up to a week though."

They shivered at the thought. "Do you have a couch I can sleep on? I wouldn't want to take your bed. Again."

"You can take the bed."

"I'm really fine-"

"Take the bed."

(Reader) could feel the adrenaline shoot to the tips of their toes. "O-okay." Although there was a smile on their face, the previous comfort they felt around Cain was dead. They had trusted him so much simply because he rescued them that they had forgotten that Cain was still a stranger.

Cain grabbed (Reader's) wrist as they passed, his hand engulfing their forearm with his inhumanly large mits. The air became heavy, and (Reader) could feel their arm sweating in his strong grasp.

"Your hand smells like blood."

Frightened, (Reader) smacked at Cain with their free hand, knocking his hood back. Although his face looked only a few years older than (Reader) his shaggy hair was a light grey, and atop his head were two pointed ears, pressed back against his scalp. If it weren't for the coloration, (Reader) CO m wouldn't have noticed the ears at all with how flatly they laid against his head. Shocked, he released (Reader's) arm, giving them enough time bolt out the front door, back into the blizzard.

Snowflakes pierced their skin as they ran, and the warmth they had gained in the cabin was gone the moment they left it's protective embrace, robbed by the harsh environment. Barefoot, (Reader) ran in a random direction, not capable of rational thought. With fight, flight, or freeze, they learned in that moment what kind of person they were.

Between the clouds masking the stars and the onslaught of snow, (Reader) was left completely blind. Without any clothes it felt like their muscles were shredding in their legs. (Reader's) legs gave out much more easily than they had the first time.

(Reader) could barely hear Cain's footsteps above the roar of the wind. Through the trees a large grey monster stalked into view, walking on its hind legs like a man, it's terrifying size was more reminiscent of a bear's. It's ears were flattened, and there was an almost human like expression of disappointment on its face.

"What were you thinking, running off into the woods?" It's voice was hoarse, but it was recognizably Cain's.

As he approached his fur receded, shrinking back down into his more human form, still with animal ears, now naked in the snow. He bent over (Reader's) violently shivering form as they crumbled.

"Did you forget that there was a storm?"

(Reader's) eyes stung as they tried to cry. "Please don't kill me." They weakly pleaded.

"Why would I save you, only to kill you later?" His warm breath thawed (Reader's) cheek. "You were unconscious for a long time when I found you. I thought you were dead. Unlike myself, you needed shelter suitable for a human. So I took one. I didn't have time to clean up everything. I needed to bring back everything I had caught to begin preparing a meal for when you awoke and making it comfortable for when I would eventually make you mine, so I was hoping that you would understand. That I killed them for you."

Cain's hot tongue licked (Reader's) cheek, the juxtaposition between the extreme cold and his sudden warmth made their skin feel like it was being torn off. (Reader) gasped out in pain, too cold to scream.

"I really did almost leave you in the snow. Because what if you left? Found out what I was and told the other humans? But look at you... Were you even conscious when you begged me to save you? Or was that your body acting on its own?" Cain got onto his knees, his skin searing (Reader's) flesh. His fingers digging into their shoulders felt like flames dancing across their body. Each touch from Cain burned. It was neither comforting nor pleasant.

"Ah, but now you're nearly frozen, yet again. Do you want me to warm you up?" Everytime Cain shifted his weight above (Reader), they were exposed to the blistering wind. As the parts of them hidden under Cain's body warmed up in his unnatural heat, the more excruciating the exposure to the outside was.

Tears melted (Reader's) fragile eyes. "Please, warm me up, Cain." Their primitive need for survival made (Reader) beg like a pathetic coward.

The loving smile on Cain's face was brief, before his face began shifting, becoming the humanoid monster he was moments earlier. Dwarfing the terrified human, he ran his rough tongue across their cold body, purposely allowing their body to freeze without his touch before warming (Reader) back up. He relished in the needy whimpers escaping (Reader's) lips as they suffered in the deadly temperature. (Reader) grasped at Cain's fur, trying to pull him in to steal his heat.

Clawed paws grabbed (Reader's) thighs, pressing their knees to their head uncomfortably. (Reader's) eyes widened in horror as Cain revealed his cock, resting it across their exposed bottom. They didn't have time to protest before their body was folded into a mating press, no preparation for their tightened hole, no warning to help them relax. Cain pressed his tip to the opening, and snapped his hips into (Reader's), thrusting in his entire member without lubricant.

Cain's dick was already hot, but with the added pain of the sudden insertion it was like being fucked by an iron poker. The scream (Reader) couldn't find earlier now ripped through their throat, the sound of their agony drowned out by the howling wind.

(Reader) pushed Cain away in surprise, but immediately regretted the action when he playfully leaned back, allowing (Reader's) chest to be assaulted by the snow and hail pelting them from all sides. They pulled him back, cringing at how Cain chuckled in their ear.

He fucked them in the snow, pressing deep into their gut painfully, and humiliating (Reader) further by licking away their tears as they sobbed under his body, incapable of pushing him away. Cain could stop at any moment, but the threat of frost bite kept (Reader) latching onto him, begging him not to let go. Their desperate cries only encouraged Cain to continue teasing them, watching with glee as their skin chapped and bled without his touch.

"It hurts..." (Reader) moaned as they pulled him in deeper.

"If you keep whining like that you'll only make me cum faster." Cain threatened, biting (Reader's) neck to hold in a gasp when they tightened around him. Their knees smacked into their temples as his pace sped up, his twitching cock threatening to release deep inside (Reader).

"No! Don't cum inside me!" (Reader) blubbered into the monster's fur.

(Reader) felt a wave of heat blast inside them as Cain pumped his thick load into their raw hole. As they wept loudly Cain continued happily smacking his wet pelvis into his beloved's, just the action of fucking his seed into them turning him on again.

Cain was already planning their futures together, as (Reader) imagined their death. This wouldn't be so bad, fucking (Reader) like this; purposefully keeping them needy so they clung to him like they wanted it.

Maybe one day, (Reader) would love him in the same way as Cain loved them, and would beg Cain to make love to them, but for now, he was content fucking them like a desperate, wild animal.

Blood from the wind burns and from the tearing from rough sex stained the white white under their bodies. Cain turned back into a human so he could kiss (Reader) passionately, taste their mouth salty from their tears.

"Let's go home, (Reader)."

[loucifersbitch]

He feels like he’s being weighed down. Like he’s under water or a heavy blanket. His limbs are heavy, and he can’t get his eyes to open. There’s muffled sound nearby, but he can’t make out anything coherent. He’s also really warm. Uncomfortably so.

Is this what death is like? Is he in Hell? Or something Hell-adjacent? Were all the fire and brimstone idiots he refused to give the time of day actually right about something?

But then the heat is gone and there’s a cool breeze that skims across his skin.

Does he have skin? Do people feel their skin once they’re dead?

He’s still debating with himself as he gets pulled further under.

~***~

What is that annoying, repetitive sound? Did he change his alarm? Why the fuck can’t he turn it off?

~***~

It hurts.

Why does it hurt?

He can’t even tell what hurts, but something fucking hurts.

If he could just open his eyes and get up to take some ibuprofen.

Also his nose itches. Why can’t he fucking scra-

~***~

“Fucking bees.”

~***~

He’s warm again, but it’s not uncomfortable this time. 

He feels safe. And alive. 

He doesn’t feel as weighed down anymore.

It’s difficult, but he cracks his eyes open. He’s - in the hospital? That’s definitely a hospital ceiling and hospital lights and hospital machines beeping.

He turns his head to the left - slowly - and sees his arm is in a giant cast. That explains why he can’t lift it.

He turns his head to the right just as slowly. He’s surprised to see a head of curly hair lying next to his hip, a large hand in his own. 

When he flexes his hand, the curly head pops up immediately.

The man looks at him with bloodshot eyes that clearly haven’t seen sleep in days. He’s young - not alarmingly so but certainly younger than Tommy. The stubble on his jaw has gone far past 5 o’clock shadow and has entered the realm of beard, making him look slightly older. But who -?

“Tommy?” the man asks. His voice is low and raspy, possibly unused.

“Uh,” Tommy says. His own voice sounds even worse.

Without hesitation, the man turns - without letting go of Tommy’s hand - and pours a cup of water from the pitcher on the table next to the bed. Then he brings the cup up to Tommy’s mouth, a bendy straw pointing toward him.

Tommy drinks slowly, his mouth feeling like parchment that’s been left out in the sun too long. 

“Thanks,” he says.

The man sets the cup down and says, “Yeah, so um, h-how do you feel?”

He thinks for a bit, taking stock of himself.

“Sore. Numb in places. I assume they’ve got me on the good stuff?” The man nods, a cute smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth. “But there’s also the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen sitting next to me, holding my hand. So all told, I’m doing pretty well.”

The tips of the man’s ears turn pink, and a cute blush spreads across his cheeks. Adorable.

“You don’t have to flirt so hard, Tommy. You should know by now, I’m a sure thing.”

Ah, so -

“So we’re,” Tommy gestures vaguely with his head, “together?”

“Uh,” the man laughs uncertainly, “for about six months now, yeah.”

“Oh.” Tommy’s eyebrows shoot up. “But you’re so…” He trails off, not really knowing where he was going with that.

“So…what?” the man prods.

“Take your pick,” Tommy says. “Young? Pretty? Out of my league?”

“Sweetheart.” The man says it like they’ve had this discussion before, but he’s smiling. “Don’t try to amnesia your way out of being with me. I called dibs forever after our second date.”

Tommy smiles lazily. “Dibs forever, huh?”

“Yep. You’re stuck with me.”

Humming as if he’s considering the pros and cons, Tommy finally says, “I guess I can live with that.”

The man’s smile is blinding. “Evan,” he says. “Evan Buckley. In case you forgot.”

It comes back to him then - a cruise ship rescue in the middle of a hurricane, a basketball game, a kiss, a first date that ended terribly, more dates that ended perfectly, slow dancing in the kitchen, long nights together that ended too soon. A call during a bad storm, total engine failure, glass and fear and rain and acceptance and trees and blue eyes and a smile like warm sunshine.

“Evan,” Tommy says, pulling him closer. “Baby.” He kisses him softly. “I love you more than anything. How could I forget?”

Evan has tears in his eyes and leans their foreheads together when he says, “Don’t ever do that again. I thought I lost you.”

“I’m so sorry, baby. I thought so, too. I thought I’d never get to see you again. I’m so sorry.”

The next kiss is wet with tears - Evan’s or his own, it doesn’t matter. They’re here, and they’re both okay, and they’re together. That’s all that matters.

“I love you, too, by the way,” Evan says once they pull apart. “Can’t believe you waited to tell me until after you almost died, but I’ll take it.”

“I’ll say it every day until I actually die, okay?” he says. He gets a smack to his good shoulder for his effort, but they’re smiling too hard for it to have any weight.

There’s a long road ahead with recovery and therapy and stubbornness and frustration, but they’ve got this. They’ll get through it all. 

Together.

part 1

part 2

part 3

also now on ao3!

[fortheloveofwonderland]

Summer Heat | S.R

Summary - By orders or the director, the BAU must undertake a team building hike in the woods. You and Spencer have never gotten along and not even the summer heat seems to be able thaw the ice that exists between you. But then you get yourselves lost and while waiting for rescue, you have to find a way to pass the time…

A/N - set somewhere in the realms of s15. This is my second entry for @imagining-in-the-margins Summer Sunshine Challenge.

Pairing - Spencer Reid / BAU Fem! Reader

Warnings - enemies to lovers, Spencer’s awkward info dumping about hiking related deaths, swearing, public urination, talks of bladder control techniques, treating wounds, Spencer is touch starved, mentions of prison and Cat Adams and Max, Spencer and reader are oblivious idiots, make outs, handjob, fingering, public sexual acts, interruptions.

WC - 8.9k

The potency of the early afternoon Virginia sun infiltrating the towering thicket of loblolly pines caressed your skin, peppering its honeyed kisses across your flesh. 

The warm earthy scents combined with the aromas of moss and the sharp, almost sweet notes of the pine trees engulfed you in a blanket of mother earth's creation. 

You hummed to yourself as you trekked up a grassy incline barely registering the weight of your oversized pack on your back. You were no stranger to hiking or the heat and you were barely phased by it. 

Unlike some people. 

Doctor Spencer Reid was equipped for neither physical activity or the weather, despite the fact he grew up in desert climates. You could hear him huffing and puffing behind you as he struggled up even the smallest of hills. 

You reached the brow and turned back to him with your hands on your hips. His face was flushed red from a combination of the sun and exertion. His hair stuck to his sweaty brow and his chest heaved with his breaths. 

When he reached you, he doubled over, hands on his knees and he fought to catch his breath. You rolled your eyes and waited somewhat impatiently for him to stand again. 

“Are you really this out of shape?” You scoffed. 

He glanced up through a curtain of hair, puffing uneven breaths out between parted lips. 

“Clearly.” He bit back. 

It wasn’t a secret that the two of you didn’t exactly see eye to eye. You’d been with the team for almost a year now, but you and Spencer had never been close. 

You’d gotten off on the wrong foot on your very first case. He’d spent almost all day on the phone to someone talking about his mother and you’d made a flippant comment about him being a mama's boy. 

This led Spencer to launch into a rant about how his mother suffered from schizophrenia and altzeimers and how he was talking to her doctor because she was struggling to adjust to the new home he’d put her in DC. 

He didn’t stop there. He continued to inform that she had been moved to DC because she wasn’t responding well to medication or her living facility in Vegas. He detailed how he’d moved her to the east coast and then gotten arrested in Mexico whilst trying to procure some experimental medicine. 

He was seething by the time he told you that the same woman who’d gotten him arrested then had his mother kidnapped and almost killed. 

He wasn’t as standoffish towards you as he used to be, his iciness thawing somewhat over time. But you were never going to be his favourite person. And as a result, he wasn’t yours either. 

He forced himself to stand up straight, grabbing his canteen from where it was hanging from the strap of his backpack and taking a hefty sip before wiping the back of his hand over his mouth. 

“It’s just a little hike. It’s not like you’re running a marathon or anything.” You clucked. “Can we continue now?” 

“Just a little hike?” He groaned but started walking nonetheless. “It’s ten miles! And I have to do it with you.” 

“Oh you poor, unfortunate soul.” You rolled your eyes as you fell in step with him. 

The hike had been an idea which was floated down from the director. A team building exercise it had been dubbed. Although it wasn’t strictly mandatory it would look bad on those who didn’t participate. 

So the BAU was spending a rare weekend off on a ten mile hike through the Shenandoah National Park followed by spending the night camping at the valley’s campground. 

The Shenandoah National Park was more than five hundred miles of hiking trails extending along the Blue Ridge Mountains which included a section of long distance Appalachian Trail. 

As someone who relished in the outdoors you’d always wanted the chance to visit Shenandoah but had never had the opportunity. And if you were paired up with anyone other than Spencer you might have been able to enjoy yourself. 

Garcia had everyone draw straws in order to team up for the hike before you would all meet up later at the campground. You’d quite literally drawn the short straw with Spencer whilst Penelope was paired with Matt, Luke with JJ whilst Tara, Emily and Rossi made a group of three. 

Spencer was the least athletic of the BAU members, the least outdoorsy, and so far had not stopped complaining. 

You regarded your GPS as you walked to ensure you were headed in the right direction and the two of you fell back into silence. 

Spencer breathed heavily even when the trail was flat, groaning a little every time you came to another incline. 

You watched him out of the corner of your eye. It was a strange sight to behold, an academic who was far more comfortable indoors trekking through the woods like this. But what was even weirder was his outfit. 

You’d never seen Spencer out of a shirt and slacks but he’d tried to at least look the part of a hiker today. He wore a thin black t-shirt and a pair of cargo shorts which showed off his surprisingly toned legs. You didn’t even think he would own such an item of clothing. 

He’d tried to look the part, probably only taking into account the heat and not the fact that he was leaving his legs exposed to bug bites and poison ivy. You wouldn’t be the one to tell him that though. 

He’d ditched his satchel in lieu of a backpack but still had his trusty converse on with obligatory mismatched socks. You’d told him converse would be hard to hike in, their thin soles alone not conducive to walking on the forest floor. 

Judging by the way he grimaced with nearly every step, he was starting to wish he’d listened to you. 

You continued to walk in silence, watching the way Spencer’s wary eyes cast around through the thick tree trunks, ears pricking at every tiny sound. 

“If you didn’t need to stop and catch your breath every five minutes we’d be back by now.” You couldn’t hold your tongue. 

Spencer’s head turned towards you, brows furrowed. 

“If we hadn’t taken such a hilly trail I wouldn’t need to keep stopping every five minutes. Did you know hikers use twenty eight percent more energy when traversing uneven terrain as opposed to flatter land?” He grabbed his canteen again and took another sip. 

“Don’t come crying to me when you’ve run out of water.” You ignored his statistical rambling, increasing your gait a little. 

“I won’t run out of water. I’ve calculated exactly how much I can afford to drink per hour when approximating how long it will take to walk ten miles.” He told you smugly. 

“Of course you have.” You rolled your eyes, picking up your pace a little more. 

“I can’t believe the bureau is making us do this. Do they not realise that hiking related deaths have been on the rise? They’ve increased as much as twenty one percent in recent years.” He grumbled as he tried to match your pace. 

“Oh please, do tell me more.” You huffed and clearly Spencer either didn’t sense your sarcasm or he chose to ignore it because he did tell you more.

“Fifty percent of all hiking related deaths are caused by a fall or drowning. Men make up seventy two percent of those victims.” He pulled a face, focusing on the ground beneath him now he’d drawn his own attention to that fact. 

“Well you for one are particularly clumsy.” You replied, your tone one of boredom. 

“The other fifty percent are due to medical conditions such as heart attacks while engaging in physical activity.” 

“What kind of physical activity?” You smirked suggestively, nudging him in his arm. 

Spencer shook his head as your childish insinuation. 

“Oh grow up, Y/L/N.” He spat. 

“I’m just saying if there is a man out there so good in bed he can induce a heart attack, I wanna meet him.” You chuckled, seeing him roll his eyes in your peripheral vision. 

“And I’m saying, hiking is inherently dangerous.” 

“We chase serial killers for a living.” You huffed, checking your navigational device again. 

“Which I am well versed in due to years of hands-on experience. I am not educated in outdoor pursuits.” He scoffed. 

“You seem to know a lot about hiking related deaths.” You cast your gaze upwards towards the sun peaking between the high trees. 

You could hear faint rhythmic buzzing from insects nearby, distance scuffling through the underbrush. Every now and again you picked up on various bird songs as they chirped from the high branches. 

It made a smile blossom on your features, being one with nature, the summer air cleansing your lungs. The sounds and the smells were a comfort to you, taking you back to childhood memories camping and trekking through forests just like this with your family and fond recollections of years spent at summer camps. 

Summer was without a doubt your favourite season. It elicited waves of nostalgia, taking you back to years spent at camp lake edges, eating ice cream hurriedly before it melted, giving you brain freeze.

It evoked images of burning campfires, the smell of the wood as it smouldered and the marshmallows roasting ready to be made into s’mores. Dulcet tones of an acoustic guitar played under the moonlight by Andy Duncan, your camp crush. 

And later when he’d walked you back to your cabin and bestowed upon you your first ever kiss. Summer held some of your best memories and kindled your sentimental side. 

You toyed with the GPS device in your hand as you walked, twigs and leaves crunching under foot. You didn’t realise Spencer was staring at you. 

“You okay?” He spoke up, snapping you out of your reminiscing. 

“Huh?” You glanced at him sideways. 

Spencer had a hint of amusement in his eyes as he looked at you, something you’d never seen on him before, not directed towards you anyway. 

“You look awfully wistful.” He shrugged. 

“I just love summer I guess.” You mirrored his action. 

“That makes sense.” Spencer turned away and looked back at the ground so he could avoid any potential trip hazards. 

“What does that mean?” You swatted at a bug that landed on your arm. 

“It means I’m not surprised you like summer, arguably the worst season.” He clucked. 

“The worst? Oh please. Let me guess Doc, you’re a fan of gloomy winter? That would make sense.” 

“Winter isn’t gloomy. Winter is oversized sweaters and hot cocoa by a fireplace. Huddled under blankets, the holidays. Sometimes even snow.” He told you as if you’d never heard of winter before. “But it’s not my favourite season. My favourite season is fall.” 

“Hmm, dark and moody tones, nature dying. That tracks.” You spoke in a clipped tone. 

“It’s not dying, it’s the start of rebirth. Shedding one layer so it can grow into something more than it ever thought it could be. It’s hauntingly beautiful really. And autumnal tones are stunning, all those earthy hues and streets littered in leaves. It makes me think of cinnamon and old books. Reading in the park with my mom when she was lucid and watching the leaves fall from the trees all around us.” It was Spencer’s turn to grow wistful. 

You noticed his eyes glaze over slightly, his lip quirking up at the corner as he got lost in a fond childhood memory. 

Spencer never talked to you about his youth or his mother after your initial falling out. He’d never been so candid with you before. As if he realised this, he shook his head, snapping himself out of his own revere. 

“I, uh, didn’t mean to share all that.” He grumbled, grabbing his canteen and sipping the water just for something to do. 

“I don’t mind.” 

“Well I do.” He spat, slowing a little as the two of you neared another slight slope. “You’re the last person I want to talk to about my mother.” 

You slowed with him until you both stopped. You folded your arms across your chest and glared at him. 

“Reid, come on. It’s been a long time. I’ve apologised for calling you a mama’s boy multiple times. How could I have possibly known about your mother?” You shook your head. 

Spencer’s jaw tightened, the muscle in the side of his face pulsing as he stared at you. You could all but see the cogs turning in his head as he fashioned a response. 

“I don’t want your apologies, Y/L/N.” He huffed out. 

He suddenly started walking again, ignoring how much his legs ached as he started up the small slope. You watched him go for a moment or two, feeling awash with anger. 

You’d been looking forward to this hike, to an excuse to spend the weekend outdoors in the sun. You were not going to let Doctor Spencer Reid ruin that for you. 

***

You carried on walking for another hour or so and not another word was spoken between you. It was tense and awkward and the sun was getting lower in the sky. 

It wouldn’t be at all long before it started getting dark and you were growing a little concerned that you might not make it back before the sunset. 

Spencer was clearly thinking the same as his brows had been furrowed for at least the past ten minutes and he was furiously chewing on his lip.

You halted in your tracks and pulled the GPS device back out. You stared down at it with a heavy frown, feeling the heat radiating off of Spencer as he drew closer to you. He peered at the GPS over your shoulder with a scrunched brow similar to your own. 

“That says we’re only a few hundred yards from the camp. We should be able to see it.” Spencer looked up but all he saw was trees.

He turned a complete three hundred and sixty degrees but was met by trees as far as the eye could see. 

“I think…I think it’s busted.” You groaned deeply, the sound reverberating out into the forest. 

“No? No!” Spencer snatched it from your hand and shook it as if that would help matters. “Call someone! It’s going to get dark soon!”

You did not miss the blatant panic in his voice and if you didn’t feel the same you might have made a jab at him for it. 

You reached for your phone in your pants pocket and unlocked the screen but groaned as soon as you did so. 

“Fuck, I have no signal.” 

“What?” Spencer scrabbled for his own device and huffed seeing he had no bars either. “We’re stuck out here?” 

“Uh,” you glanced around. “Yes?” 

“No, no. I am not dying out in the woods with you.” His tone was even more fraught. 

“Trust me, you are not my first choice of death partner either.” You scoffed.

“If we’re out here long enough we could dehydrate! Or get hypothermia! I told you fifty percent of hiking related deaths are caused by medical conditions.” He was spiralling. 

“How many hiking related deaths are caused by homicide?” You shot him an unamused look. 

“Eighteen percent of 990 deaths at national parks were considered intentional. That includes suicide and homicide.” 

“It was a rhetorical question.” You shook your head. “Maybe if we get to higher ground we can get some cell service.” 

You started to walk but had no idea where you were going. You just had to hope you would find some higher ground. 

Spencer followed you for lack of any better suggestions. He was sulking like a petulant child, clearly there was something on his mind as he huffed a few times as he trailed behind you. 

You walked no more than a few minutes before his constant sighing and pouting caused you to stop again. 

“What?” You spat. “What is it?” 

Spencer frowned, halting in his tracks too. He was rolling his lip frantically between his teeth now and jiggling a little where he stood. 

“I, uh,” his cheeks flushed red. “I need to use the bathroom.” 

You closed your eyes for a second, pinched the bridge of your nose. 

“I hate to break it to you but there are no bathrooms way out here.” 

“It’s a figure of speech.” He grumbled. “I need to…pee.” 

“Okay, well take your pick.” You motioned around to the copious trees surrounding you. 

“I’m not a dog.” He rolled his eyes. 

“I’m sorry princess but it’s the best I can offer you.” 

Spencer sucked in a deep breath, clenching his hands at his side. His leg was still jiggling with his need to urinate. 

Spencer had developed an extremely strong bladder in his time in prison. The toilets on offer at Milburn were some of the most unhygienic he’d ever seen and as such had used them as little as humanly possible. 

He’s trained himself to strengthen his bladder, exercising his pelvic floor in order to reduce the amount of times in a day he needed to use the bathroom. 

As such during the hike he hadn’t been once while you had been multiple times. And now it had snuck up on him, coming out of nowhere and he wouldn’t be able to hold it long. 

“Goddamn I hate nature.” He grumbled, glancing around for the largest looking tree he could use to shield himself from you. 

You watched as he turned his back on you, hurrying off in one direction, further than was strictly necessary. You rolled your eyes with a shake of your head. 

“Don’t worry, Doc I’m not looking to catch a glimpse.” You called after him. You heard a tut in response but he didn’t rise to it. 

Spencer pushed forwards through some bushes and weaved in and out large pines before he found a tree trunk far enough away from you that he could have some semblance of peace while he expelled himself. 

He made sure the trunk was blocking his body before he unbuttoned his cargo shorts and freed himself from his pants. Within a fraction of a second he was already urinating.

He let out a relieved sigh, holding the base of his cock in one hand for aiming purposes whilst leaning the other on the tree. 

He closed his eyes as the blissful sensation of his bladder emptying consumed him. He didn’t relish doing this in the woods but he couldn’t deny how nice it felt. 

It felt so good in fact he didn’t even notice the itching of his calves. He finished his business and tucked himself away before buttoning his shorts. 

He swung his pack off his back and rummaged in the side pocket for a little bottle of hand sanitiser. He squirted a little in his palm and rubbed his hands together. 

Returning it to his bag and putting it back on, he noticed a stinging in his left calf but ignored it as he walked back over to you. As he walked his other leg started to sting too. 

When he reached you he subconsciously reached down and started scratching the backs of his bare legs with his blunt nails. You stared at him curiously. 

“You okay?” 

“Just a little itchy. Think I’ve been bitten or something.” He grumbled. 

You walked around him and regarded his legs. His skin was flushed red with little raised blisters dotted up the backs of both calves. 

“Reid,” you took his wrists and guided his hands away from his frantic scratching. “I think you’ve walked in poison ivy.” 

He snapped back to his full height, eyes wide. 

“What? No? Come on!” He moaned, glancing back at the rash forming. “Could this day get any worse?” 

“I’ve got a first aid kit in my bag, I’m going to need to treat those. If you keep scratching they could scar. Maybe this will teach you for wearing shorts on a hike.” You put down your backpack and rummaged for the kit. 

“It’s nearly eighty degrees.” He scoffed. “And I’ve never been hiking before.” 

“Just shut up and stand still. Give me your water.” You knelt down on the ground behind him.

“You’ve got your own water.” 

“I’m not wasting my water on cleaning your rash because you were the idiot who wore shorts. Give me your water.” 

Spencer huffed out a breath to show he wasn’t happy but then he unlatched his canteen from his bag strap and passed it back to you. So much for his calculations. 

You uncapped it and poured a little on the back of each leg causing him to shudder. You used a small hand towel you had in your backpack to dry them off before sanitising your hands.

You located the hydrocortisone ointment in the first aid kit and squeezed a little on the pads of your fingers. You cautiously started on his left leg, massaging the cream into the small blisters. 

Spencer hissed and his legs buckled a little. He was silent though and allowed you to treat his rash. Soon you were moving onto the other leg and although it stung Spencer couldn’t deny he enjoyed the skin to skin contact. 

As much as he hated to admit it, Spencer was touch starved. He hadn’t felt another set of hands on him in such a tender way since before prison. 

He’d deliberately kept everyone at arms length since, not trusting himself or deeming himself worthy to be so close to another person. 

He’d almost allowed himself to go there with Max, to succumb to the kind of pleasure he’d sorely missed. They’d kissed but ultimately that was the furthest he’d let himself go. 

And somehow your benevolent touch was more intimate than kissing Max. Or perhaps that was just wishful thinking on his part. 

He was sure you knew the real reason he was so brusque with you wasn’t because of what you’d call him during your first case. He was annoyed about it at first but he hadn’t held a grudge over it. 

His curt behaviour towards you stemmed from his almost overwhelming crush on you. He’d pushed you away because when he met you he wasn’t ready to be close to someone. But in doing so he had inevitably sealed his own fate so that now when he might actually want to pursue something, you could barely stand him.

He tried to omit the feeling of your fingertips on his calves and focused his attention on the warbling of a nearby bird. Its song wasn’t the prettiest he’d ever heard but it had a certain cadence to it which he found oddly calming. 

All too soon you were finished and your touch was gone, leaving Spencer feeling dissatisfied. You wrapped both of his rashes in gauze bandages but your fingers barely ghosted over his flesh again.

You stuffed the kit back away and pushed yourself to your feet, brushing the dirt off of your knees. Spencer looked down at his newly bandaged legs with a small frown. 

“Do you have a change of clothes? Some pants perhaps?” You asked.

“No, for all my planning and research I did not think to bring long pants.” He shook his head at his oversight. 

“I know we don’t always see eye to eye, but you could have asked me what you should bring. The whole team knows I’m big on hiking and camping.” You turned away from him, looking back out through the trees to try and ascertain the best direction to head. “I also could have told you that converse was a dumb choice for hiking. I can only imagine how much your feet hurt.” 

Spencer made a noise that sounded somewhat like he agreed with you but didn’t want to say it out loud. You pulled out a piece of crumpled paper from your backpack and unfolded it, staring intently at it for a few moments. 

Spencer came closer, glancing down at the wrinkled paper in your hands. It looked to be a topographic map of the area. Finally something Spencer understood about hiking. 

“Didn’t know Garcia gave us those.” He spoke as you studied it.

“She didn’t. This isn’t my first rodeo, I would never have come out here without one.” You didn’t look at him. 

“So I can read this but how do you work out where we are? There’s nothing but trees for miles.” He scratched the back of his neck. 

“Observation. We passed a small body of water about a mile back. I didn’t see it but I could hear it off to the west. And this incline,” you pointed in front of you. “Will help figure it out.” 

“Okay, so a small body of water and an area where the contour lines aren’t too close as the hill isn’t too steep.” He nodded.

“Exactly.” You agreed. “And if my bearings are right I believe we’re facing north east.” 

Spencer looked around briefly before a smile tugged at his lips. 

“Because of the position of the sun.” 

“Yep. And the moss.” You nodded towards the trees. “It’s not an exact science but in the whole moss tends to grow on the north side of trees in the northern hemisphere.”

Spencer watched while you ran your index finger along the map, trying to draw on everything you knew in order to get the two of you to higher ground. 

“Wow I’m…I’m actually impressed.” He chuckled a little and you looked up at him with a frown. 

“Are you patronising me?” 

“What? No! I mean it. I’m really impressed.” 

“Oh,” you looked back at the map. “Thanks.” 

A minute or so later and you’d estimated a few miles worth of trail you believed the two of you to be on. If you were right you were still miles from the camp and wouldn’t make it there by nightfall. 

Your plan was to find somewhere to get cell service so you could call the team and hopefully they could get park rangers out here to find you as they were the only ones equipped to traverse the forest after dark. 

Spencer followed you while you kept the map in your hand. The two of you walked for another mile or so, by this point Spencer’s water rations were nearly depleted. 

Eventually you stopped at the foot of a large, steep hill and Spencer looked up at it with a dubious expression. 

“You want me to climb that?” He whined. 

“Well we have a better chance of getting cell service when we have two phones.” You rolled your eyes, folding the map and slotting it in your pocket. 

“Can’t you just take mine up there with you?” He pulled a face. “I really do not possess the physical prowess for this.”

“No kidding.” You scoffed. “But we’re in this together. I could get hurt or something, I need you for backup.” 

Spencer groaned, pouting his bottom lip like a child. 

“Oh jeez, fine.” He huffed. “But I will complain every step of the way.”

“Wouldn’t expect anything less.” With a shake of your head you started forward and Spencer reluctantly followed you.

You got less than twenty paces before he almost slipped and fell on his face. To steady himself he instinctively reached for your hand. He didn’t let go the whole way up. 

You hated to admit it but there was something oddly comforting about Spencer’s hand in yours. His hand was warm and surprisingly soft and it was so much larger than your own he all but encompassed yours. 

He held onto you tightly, fingers squeezing your hand every time his foot slipped a little on the hilly ground. A part of you didn’t want to make it to the top because you didn’t want him to let go. 

But of course as soon as the ground levelled out he slipped his hand away and all but collapsed onto the damp ground below, huffing and puffing. You watched him grab his canteen and finish the water without a second thought. 

He removed his pack and rolled onto his back, relishing in every last drop of liquid and clearly not concerned he had now emptied his reserves. He closed his eyes and pushed his hair back off his sweaty forehead. 

You pulled your cell phone out and unlocked it. You had one tiny bar of signal which you hoped was enough to make a call. You nudged Spencer in the ribs with the toe of your hiking boot. His eyes shot open and he stared up at you, the exhaustion heavy in his eyes. 

“I’ve got one bar, I’m going to try and call Prentiss.” You informed him, bringing up your contacts. 

You found Emily’s name quickly and hit the call button before putting the device on speaker. The dial tone was crackly and you knew the signal could cut out at any minute. It rang four times before Emily answered but her words were muffled and you only caught a handful of what she said.

“Y/N…are you?...Gone hours…thing okay?” 

“Emily, we got lost. Our GPS was misprogrammed. We need help.” You had no idea how much she could hear of what you were saying.

“...are you?...send a rang…coordinates?” 

You reeled off your approximate coordinates, explaining that you could be anywhere within a few miles of that spot but again you don’t know what she heard due to the spotty service. 

“Hold tight…get a ranger…be okay.” 

“Thanks Emily.” You finished before hanging up.

Spencer was still on the floor on his back, his brows furrowed in concern.

“How much of that do you think she got?” He was rolling his lip between his teeth.

“I have no idea.” You pocketed the phone again. “I’m almost certain Garcia would have brought her laptop with her. If she can get to the rangers station and get on the WiFi she might be able to locate us.”

“Yeah, good point. Garcia is the best.” His eyes closed again, a strangely dreamy smile on his lips. 

“What are you doing?” You kicked him again and his eyes quickly opened and he stared at you.

“Resting, what does it look like?” He scowled.

“Reid, the second the sun goes down the temperature is going to plummet. We need to make a fire.” 

“Goddamnit,” he pushed himself to a sitting position. “I hate the outdoors.” 

You chose to ignore him and didn’t help him to his feet, instead started wandering around in the search for some sticks for the fire. Spencer eventually got himself up and started to help. The sun was barely a sliver in the sky by the time you collected enough wood.

You created a crisscross on the ground with the kindling, explaining to Spencer this type of fire would burn for longer and not need as much wood. You had no idea how long you would be out here and you needed to stay warm. The smoke would also help draw attention to your whereabouts. 

You retrieved a pack of matches from your back, Spencer once again impressed by your preparedness. He simply watched while you went about lighting the fire, in silent awe. It was several minutes before the fire started to grow and he shuffled closer to it, sitting cross legged on the dirty forest floor and holding his hands towards the flames. 

You sat down next to him, but not too close. You got out a fleece hoodie from your bag and slipped it over your head. As if jogging some kind of memory for Spencer he opened his own bag and found his oversized CalTech sweatshirt, thankful he’d had the forethought to pack this even if he had overlooked bringing pants. 

Sitting by the fire you felt the fatigue wash over you. You could quite easily curl up and fall asleep after the day's events. Spencer noticed your fluttering eyelids and how you were desperately trying to stay awake.

He suddenly felt extremely bad for how difficult he’d been all day, complaining and moaning while you tried to keep him safe and alive. He huffed out a breath and the sound caused you to look at him.

Half of his face was illuminated by the glow of the fire, the other side set in deep shadow from where the sun had now almost completely vanished beneath the horizon. His golden brown eyes shimmered as he looked at you.

“I, uh, I’m sorry I’ve been such hard work today.” He rolled his lip between his teeth.

“Reid, I’m used to you being hard work.” Your lip twitched at the corner. 

“I’m sorry about that too.” He swallowed. “Do you…do you want to lay your head down on my lap? You deserve to rest.” 

You frowned a little sceptical, mildly concerned by the offer as Spencer had never been so nice to you. But you were too tired to question it and the idea of laying down sounded wonderful. You nodded slowly, prompting Spencer to uncross his legs and stretch them out in front of himself.

You sucked in a breath, shuffling in the dirt so you could lay on your side with your head in his lap while you stretched your own body out on the ground. 

Without meaning to, Spencer's hand was soon brushing through your hair. You couldn’t help the hum of appreciation that you let escape and it goaded him to continue. 

His touch elicited the sweetest sounds from your lips, some sounding dangerously like moans. Spencer was only human and his body reacted of its own accord at the noises. 

He could sense the blood rushing south, feel the swelling in his shorts despite how much he willed it stop. He stilled his movements on your hair, hoping if you weren’t making those delirious sounds it would stop the blood rushing and he wouldn’t get hard enough for you to notice…

…You suddenly sat up, looking right at him with wide eyes. Of course you’d noticed, his crotch was right beneath your head. 

His cheeks instantly flushed red and he pulled a face full of apologies and mortification. You continued to stare at him and he felt more uncomfortable with each silent second. 

“Please,” he whimpered. “Just…don’t mention it.” 

“Kinda hard not to…pun not intended.” You frowned at your own choice of words and Spencer groaned. 

“I’m sorry,” he shook his head. “It has been a long time since I’ve had any kind of closeness with another person. I can’t be held responsible for my body’s carnal reactions. Especially when you’re making such sinful noises.” 

Your own cheeks turned red now and you glanced away from him towards the fire. 

“I, uh…I didn’t realise I was. Sorry.” You croaked. “Full disclosure, it’s also been a long time since I’ve had any kind of closeness with another person.” 

Spencer’s brows furrowed as he regarded you. He found that incredibly hard to believe. You were just so beautiful he imagined men fell at your feet everywhere you went. 

“Seriously?” He couldn’t help but ask. 

“Seriously.” You confirmed with a huff as you turned back to him. 

“But why?” 

“Why what? I don’t understand.” 

“I mean…you’re you. You’re beautiful and smart and charismatic. Surely you could have your pick of men?” Spencer was really frowning. 

“I’m…fussy I suppose? And I don’t really like the whole casual sex thing…” You trailed off with your own frown. “Wait did you call me beautiful?”

“And smart and charismatic.” He nodded. 

“Uh, thanks?” You were rightfully confused, Spencer had never said anything nice about you. “What about you? You don’t have women lining up at your door? And weren’t you dating someone?”

Spencer let out a hearty laugh at this, shaking his head dramatically. 

“Max and I broke up not long after Cat and her games. We never…you know…and trust me when I say women do not fawn over a neurotic, socially awkward ex-con.” Spencer sighed sadly. 

“Oh, I didn’t realise about Max, I’m sorry.” 

“It’s okay. It wouldn’t have worked out even if Cat hadn’t interfered.” He pulled a face, rubbing his hand over the back of his neck. “You didn’t know me before prison. I’m not the same man I used to be. I had to do things on the inside just to survive and it changed me. For a long time I didn’t trust myself to get close to anyone. A part of me still doesn't but I’m trying I guess? Max was the closest I came to allowing myself to be vulnerable again.” 

You simply stared at him, unsure what to say. You’d never spoken so personally with Spencer before, he’d never opened up to you in such a way and you didn’t know how to respond. 

You knew you needed to tread lightly, not wanting to risk him clamming up and shutting you down. You were making progress for the first time since you’d met him and you didn’t want to give him a reason not to continue. 

“I didn’t know you before prison and I have no idea the things you would have gone through in there. But I do know you now. I know you shield yourself behind these huge walls to keep people from hurting you, probably because you’ve already been hurt enough for one lifetime. 

“You kept me at arms length because you don’t like change, you worried I would threaten the team dynamic. But once you realised that wasn’t the case, you were too far gone and it was easier for you to keep treating me with disdain rather than thaw towards me.” 

Spencer was silent while you talked, ingesting your words, mulling them over in his head. His expression tightened, his eyebrows knitted together and his lips drawn into a line. 

“I guess you’re right, at least about some of it.” He exhaled. “I was always guarded to a degree even before prison. People have always disappointed me I guess and so I learnt not to rely on anyone, not to let anyone get too close. It’s easier to be alone than to risk getting hurt. 

“But you’re wrong about why I kept you away. Your comment about me being a mama’s boy stung but I didn’t hold it against you. I needed to put distance between us because from the first time I met you I knew how effortless it would be for me to fall for you.

“I was too raw at the time, I wasn’t ready to give my heart away to someone who might not even want it. I had to keep you at arms length because it was safer than letting myself develop feelings for someone who probably wouldn’t reciprocate. But I guess the jokes on me because my plan was far from foolproof and I managed to fall for you anyway. 

“I don’t expect anything from you in return, and I’m hoping once we’re rescued we can just forget this whole thing ever happened. But I suppose you deserve to know why I am the way I am with you and maybe going forward we can try to be…I don’t know…friends? Or at the very least I hope we can get along better.” He sucked in a breath when he finished speaking, looking completely exhausted and utterly heartbroken.

You couldn’t speak. You took in every single word, toyed with them in your mind and tried to make sense of them. But really they didn’t make any sense. In the year you’d known Spencer you had never even gotten so much as a hint that he had feelings for you. He was detached, withdrawn and oftentimes entirely unapproachable. 

It seemed implausible that he could have been hiding these feelings all this time and for you not to have a clue. You were a profiler, wasn’t it your job to pick up on these things? Did the rest of the team figure it out? Were you the only one in the dark? 

He looked increasingly uncomfortable by his confession with every passing second of silence. The fire crackled, its warmth washing over you both. It cast you both in a cosy glow. 

Spencer seemed closer somehow. Did you move nearer or had he, or was it simply all in your head? 

There were so many things you could say, so many possibilities but you couldn’t form a simple sentence. Every time you tried to speak your words caught in your throat and his own played over in a loop in your brain. 

I guess the jokes on me because my plan was far from foolproof and I managed to fall for you anyway. 

Spencer had feelings for you and he thought you wouldn’t feel the same. Perhaps neither of you were as good at profiling as you thought. 

Spencer rolled his lip between his teeth, growing self conscious in your lack of response. He sucked in a deep breath and exhaled it through his nose. 

“I should not have said any of that.” He averted his gaze to the fire. “I don’t even know why I did. Jeez, I’m a moron. Please can you just pretended I didn’t…” 

He trailed off when your hand cupped his chin and you turned him gently to look at you. 

“Yes, you are a moron.” You smiled meekly. “But only because you missed what was right in front of you. How can you think I didn’t feel the same?” 

His mouth fell open, your hand still on his jaw. He blinked rapidly as if trying to clear some kind of fog in his brain. 

“You…I’m confused.” He frowned. 

“Let me clear it up for you then.” You dropped your hand to your side but seconds later your lips crushed against his. 

Spencer gasped at the sudden action, in a million years he never dreamed to actually feel your lips on his. And if he never got this chance again, he was going to make the most of it. 

He raised his hands to cup your face and ran his tongue along your bottom lip, gently asking for passageway. You obliged by parting your lips enough for his tongue to slide inside. 

You were quick to explore the contours of each other's mouths, both of your desperations evident in the way your teeth knocked together while you worked to find your rhythm. 

One of his hands worked its way into the back of your hair and held you firmly as he deepened the kiss further. He pulled you into his lap and you manoeuvred yourself so you were straddling him, kneeling in the dirt either side of his hips. 

He kept one hand cradling your head and the other moved down over your ribs. It dipped beneath the thick fabric of your hoodie, sandwiched between it and your shirt underneath. 

You rocked in his lap, wrapping your arms tightly around neck. The friction caused him to moan languidly into your mouth and it wasn’t long before you felt him growing hard again. 

When he pulled back and opened his eyes, his pupils were blown out, heavy with lust. He was begging you for more without the use of words, he removed one of your hands from around his neck and moved it between your bodies. 

He placed your palm on his rapidly growing erection, rolling his swollen lip with his teeth whilst silently asking if this was okay. You smiled at him and your other hand joined it so you could pop the button of his shorts.

One hand wasted no time in diving straight into his boxers and wrapping around his shaft. You quickly tugged him free of the confines of both his shorts and underwear. 

You sat back a little on your haunches to look down on him. You couldn’t hold back your lamentation as you surveyed every inch of him in your hand. He was long and thick, heavy against your palm. Honestly you hadn’t known what to expect, but it wasn’t this. 

The vein that ran up the underside throbbed as you brushed your thumb over it and he bucked his hips when you moved it to rub over his swollen red tip. You slowly brought your fist all the way back down, squeezing his base whilst nestled in a bed of scratchy pubic hair.

You tore your eyes away from his crotch and looked up to meet his eyes. They held a hint of uncertainty, as though he was worried you wouldn’t like what you saw. Spencer never was blessed with body confidence, he was always too skinny or too tall or too gangly. 

He wasn’t dumb though, he knew that particular appendage was above average. He didn’t have a wealth of sexual experience but he had enough to know that he was often a tight fit for most. But that didn’t stop him from feeling self conscious under your gaze.

The smile on your face and the glint in your eye was enough for him to know that you were pleased by what you’d seen and it allowed him to relax a little. He felt a wave of heat wash over him as your hand slowly started to move and it had nothing to do with his proximity to the fire. 

He wriggled beneath you as you started moving your hand up and down, your thumb brushing over his sensitive head each time. A string of wanton moans left his lips and he was momentarily dumbfounded while you worked him, not able to do anything but sit and relish in this feeling.

Your petite hand couldn’t fit all the way around him but it didn’t make your movements any less mind blowing. He had never been touched like this before, with such a combination of care and desperation. 

Once he got his brain working for long enough to think straight, he moved his hands towards the buttons of your pants. You didn’t let up on your ministrations while he got them undone, swiping your thumb through the precum collecting on his head. 

He swiftly popped the buttons and his right hand dipped inside straight inside your panties. He moaned animalistically when he discovered how wet you were already, the sound dissipating out into the forest. 

You kept eye contact with each other as his fingers slid between your legs, collecting your arousal before moving to settle on your needy clit. You whimpered as he rubbed the sensitive bud with two fingers, rocking against his hand whilst increasing your speed on his cock.

The sounds coming from the both of you were nothing short of feral and became eaten up by the vast woods surrounding you. You grinded against his hand while he flicked your nub deftly, eager to bring you to orgasm.

You returned the favour and matched his speed. The sounds of your arousal and his flesh against yours filled your ears. The fire continued to crackle behind you, casting you in an ethereal glow from where you perched on top of him. 

His chest heaved and his stomach was coiling into thick knots. He wanted this to last forever but knew his orgasm was imminent. It had been all too long since someone had touched him so intimately and it would be impossible to stave off his release for too long.

But judging by the noises you were making, the sinful whines and moans leaving your parted lips and how frantically you bucked against his hand, he assumed you were in the same boat. 

“Jesus, Reid,” you panted heavily. “Who knew you’d be so good at that?”

He couldn’t help but chuckle, increasing his speed even further as if to prove that point.

“Likewise.” He replied, whimpering as you swiped your thumb through more beads of precum. 

“I’m so close.” You whined, throwing your head back to your shoulders.

“M-me too.” He stuttered, stomach clenching at the way you twisted your fist around his shaft. 

Somewhere in the distance you heard a twig snap but paid it no attention. You kept your focus here on Spencer, on how he was making you feel and on how you were making him feel. But then you heard another crunch followed by a faint voice.

“Reid? Y/LN?” It called. “I see smoke! That has to be them!”

“Is that…?” Spencer frowned, breathing heavily.

“G-Garcia.” You mumbled. 

“Fuck,” Spencer groaned, his frustration evident.

“Reid? Y/L/N? It’s Penny G, can you hear me, my loves?” 

You and Spencer exchanged a look while you both stilled your movements at the same time. He kept his hand inside your panties while you held the base of his shaft limply. You felt dizzy, you were on the cusp of orgasm, about to fall over the ledge when Garcia’s voice had dragged you back from the brink. Looking at Spencer, he felt much the same.

“Y/L/N, Reid! We’re coming angels!”

“Oof,” Spencer groaned, cautiously withdrawing his hand from inside your pants. “Poor choice of words.” 

You reluctantly let go of his shaft and crawled away from him while you both readjusted yourself and got your pants done up.

“Over here, Garcia.” You called, hoping she didn’t notice the way your voice shook. 

Your body tingled, so close to release a soft breeze could get you there. Spencer pushed himself to his feet, legs shaking and reached out to help you up. He was tenting his shorts, unable to get the blood flowing elsewhere due to how close he’d been. He picked up his backpack and held it in front of him so Garcia wouldn’t notice.

Your underwear was soaked and sticky. You tried to adjust your stance so it was less uncomfortable but it was almost impossible. You could see three flashlights in the distance and the footsteps were growing closer. 

Soon enough Garcia and two park rangers appeared through the thicket. If she noticed the flush of your cheeks she didn’t say anything. She immediately threw her arms around both of you, Spencer cloying to keep his bag as a barrier between himself and the bubbly blonde for fear she might feel his unyielding erection.

“Oh my sweet angels!” She cooed over you both. “Let's get you back to camp and get you warmed up and fed.” 

You both silently agreed and let the rangers lead you back towards a clearing where their vehicle awaited you. Garcia hopped in the backseat first and Spencer held open the door for you, offering a meek smile as you passed him. 

Perhaps it was for the best you’d been interrupted before you could go too far. Perhaps Garcia had inadvertently helped you dodge a bullet.

***

Several hours later after making it back to the camp and feasting on Rossi’s campfire soup and bread and whilst being wrapped in Garcia’s fluffy blankets, one by one the other members of the BAU retired for the night. 

The fire was still dwindling as you perched on a log next to Spencer, silence deafening you once the two of you were alone. You watched the small flames flicker and dance in the soft breeze, soaking up the last of the summer evening before calling it a night yourself.

Before you did, you turned to face him to find he was already looking at you. He smiled softly, a little bashfully and you returned it. Words and emotions bubbled under the surface and neither one of you knew where to start. 

“Some day, huh.” You shrugged, wrapping the blanket tighter around your body.

“It was certainly eye opening.” Spencer agreed.

“It was probably for the best that Garcia and those rangers found us when they did, right?” 

“Oh yeah, for sure. Probably stopped us from doing something even more stupid.” Spencer chuckled nervously. 

“Exactly.” You nodded, getting to your feet. Spencer did the same. “We can just pretend nothing happened. We were tired, probably a little dehydrated. The sun makes us do weird things.” 

“Yeah, the sun.” He nodded too. 

You swallowed thickly, giving him one last look before turning towards your tent. Spencer scuffed the toe of his converse on the ground and found himself speaking again without really meaning to. 

“I mean…it would have been nice to at least finish. I’ve been kinda on edge ever since.” 

You spun back to look at him and he looked so unsure of himself. His hands were in his pockets and his shoulders were pitched up to his ears. 

“Uh, yeah same here.” You took a couple of tentative steps back towards him. “There’s no doubt I could go back to my tent right now and finish what we started alone but…”

“But your hand feels so much better than my own.” Spencer finished for you. 

You both chuckled as you reached him again, letting go of your blanket and letting it fall to the floor so you wrap your arms around Spencer’s neck. 

“It would just be a one time thing.” You whispered, your breath fanning across his face. 

“Even though you don’t like casual sex.” He placed his hands on your hips. 

“Even though I don’t like casual sex.” You repeated. 

“We’re just…two colleagues helping each other.” Spencer smirked, inching his face closer to yours. 

“And if anyone ever found out…” 

“We’d blame the sun. Summer heat got to us.” 

“Summer heat.” You agreed and with that he kissed you again, drawing you into his body whilst tugging you in the direction of his own tent. 

Spencer had never been a fan of summer. But after today he may have been converted. And he was certain this summer heat between you would continue to smoulder through the seasons. 

[kikyoupdates]

Made to Destroy ⭑˚💎⭑ 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑜𝑢𝑡𝑠𝑖𝑑𝑒 𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑙𝑑

bnha x op!reader

op!reader, my hero academia x fem!reader, reverse harem, over powered reader, f!reader

You are the product of a series of twisted experiments, an anomaly that shouldn’t have ever existed in the first place. Thankfully, you are taken into the arms of a hero and given a new purpose in life. But as you soon discover, it isn’t easy to deny your true nature, especially when you were made to destroy.

prologue | story masterlist | next

I don’t know where I’m going.  

You’ve been walking for a while now, with no real destination in mind. Truthfully, you’re not searching for anyplace in particular. You just figure that anywhere will be better than being stuck with that crazy old man.  

So, you walk. The building you’ve just come out of is rather secluded, tucked away behind a canopy of trees. There’s no one else as far as the eye can see, so you make the journey in total silence, instead focusing on the sweet-tasting air, and the little birds that flit from branch to branch.  

The minutes trickle on, turning to hours, and you find yourself weighed down by a heavy feeling that must be fatigue.  

But it’s okay. Because it seems like you’ve just reached the city.  

Here, you are no longer alone. It’s crowded and busy, and there are tons of people roaming about. You can’t help but blink in awe. Up until now, the only person you’ve met was Dr. Garaki. You never imagined that there would be so many others besides him.  

Curious, you take a step forward. 

Only to be immediately pulled back.  

“Be careful!” a woman cries out, and something speeds past you at that very moment, just narrowly missing your body. You frown and look back at the woman in confusion. For some reason, she’s gasping for breath and her shoulders are trembling. “You almost walked right in front of that car,” she says shakily. “Seriously, you need to look both ways before crossing. The pedestrian light wasn’t even on.”  

You’re not really sure what she’s talking about, but you nod nonetheless. 

“Okay,” you reply. “Thank you.”  

She lets go of your arm, then looks you over for quite a long time. Something about your appearance must not sit right with her, because her brow is now furrowed.  

“Is everything okay—”  

“Hey, what’s the hold up?” someone else interjects. It’s a man, and he loops his arm around the woman’s. “Come on, I’m in a hurry here. I need to get back to work soon.”  

“Oh. This girl was about to wander out into the street, so I got worried about her,” she explains.  

“Yeah? Well, she’s fine now, so let’s go. Like I said, I don’t have time for this.”  

The woman is jerked along without another word, but you can see her glancing back over her shoulder every few moments, a look of concern plastered across her face.  

Eventually, she disappears through the crowd, so you shrug and carry on walking.  

A lot of people seem to be giving you funny looks. You don’t notice them at first, but eventually, you realize that you’re drawing a lot of attention to yourself. You’re not really sure why, though.  

More importantly, so much of this is new to you. Not only are there tons of people, but there are countless buildings, in all colors and sizes, as well as other strange things you’ve never seen before. The world outside appears to be vibrant and bright, already a massive improvement to the dingy lab you awoke in.  

You keep walking. Some people look like they want to call out to you, or at the very least, they’re thinking about it, but ultimately, they reconsider and let you carry on your way.  

Everyone disregards the fact that you’re a child all on your own and assumes that someone else will come to your rescue eventually. That’s the reasoning they use to spare themselves the hassle and wipe their hands of any responsibility.  

And then, someone does come to your rescue.  

“Hello there, little girl. Are you by yourself?”  

It’s a tall man with a warm, inviting smile. He fixes you in a tender gaze, and unlike everyone else, he takes the time to find out how you’re doing.  

You nod in agreement. “Yes. I’m alone.”  

For some reason, the man’s smile grows even wider. Unfortunately, you’re too naïve to realize why.  

“Well, that just won’t do,” he hums. “It’s not safe for a kid like you to be all alone on the streets. How about I help you out? I can get you something to eat too. You sound like you’re hungry.”  

Hungry? You’re not too familiar with the term, but perhaps he’s referring to how your stomach is grumbling without pause. It’s an uncomfortable feeling, one that you’d been trying to disregard up until now. But if this man says he can help with that, you’ll gladly take him up on his offer.  

“I think I am hungry,” you concede. “I want to try eating something.”  

“Of course,” he grins. “Just follow me.”  

So, you do. It doesn’t occur to you that perhaps you shouldn’t trust people so blindly, especially given the experience you’ve already had with Dr. Garaki. But as you will soon discover, the outside world is plenty dangerous too, and your total ignorance makes you all the more vulnerable to it.  

The man reaches over to grab your hand in his, and he seems tickled pink by the fact that you don’t try to refuse.  

For a while, the two of you walk like that, hand-in-hand. You keep looking around the whole time, trying to make sense of your surroundings, and eventually, you see something that makes your eyes widen.  

“There,” you say, pointing towards a building. You can see through its glass windows, and the people inside are all sitting at tables and shoveling various things into their mouth. They’re... eating, right? They must be. Your brain instinctively makes the connection, and right on cue, your stomach starts grumbling even more.  

“What is it?” the man frowns.  

“They’re eating food,” you say. “In there. Can we go in to eat too? I’m hungry.”  

“Ah. I actually don’t have a lot of money on hand,” he sighs. “But I’ve got a nice meal waiting for us back home. I can get you more comfortable clothes to change into as well. Don’t worry. It’ll be way better than sitting in a cramped diner.”  

You tilt your head to the side, confused. “But they’re all eating, and I want to eat too. I don’t feel like waiting any longer. I want to go there.”  

“Like I said, I don’t have money,” he explains.  

“Money?”  

Yet another term you’ve never heard before. There’s a lot that you don’t understand, that you still need to learn. Of course, the man can’t possibly know that, so he must assume you’re just playing dumb. 

“Everyone else is eating, so why can’t we do it too?” you ask.  

He clicks his tongue, and his smile drops for the very first time. “Don’t be difficult,” he grimaces. You notice that his grip on your hand has become tighter. “I promise I’ll give you some food at home, so please just listen to me, okay?”  

Despite his insistence, you stubbornly root your feet into the ground. There’s food right on the other side of that window, and you’re not going anywhere until you’ve tried some for yourself.  

“I want to go in there,” you say again. “I’m not leaving.”  

It seems like that’s really not what the man wanted to hear, because all of a sudden, anger flashes through his eyes, and he pulls you forcefully, making you stumble forward in bewilderment.  

Then, he throws you over his shoulder.  

“I played nice and gave you a chance,” he glares. “All you had to do was not act out like a little brat.”  

He’s running now, still gripping you tight and refusing to let go. All you can do is gape, watching as the diner fades further and further into the distance. You lament the loss of your food, which now appears to be hopelessly out of reach. The hunger is getting worse by the second, too. It feels like your stomach is about to implode.  

You know what you have to do. You need to fight this guy off and break free of him. But much to your dismay, you can’t muster up the strength, no matter how hard you try. That feeling from before, when you channeled all that energy... it’s gone. And you’re not quite sure how to bring it back.  

“I want food,” you groan, feeling weaker by the second. The man pays you no mind, of course. He keeps running as fast as his feet will carry him. You wonder where he’s taking you. Wherever it is, you doubt it’s anywhere good. It seems like Dr. Garaki isn’t the only crazy bastard in this world.  

So, you escaped. Only to be captured by yet another maniac. 

And to think that this is only your first day of living.  

“It’s going to be okay,” the man reassures, laughing in a shaky, deranged manner. “You’ll see. The two of us... we’ll be happy together. I’ll take care of you and give you everything you want.”  

“...is that so? And here I was, thinking that you’d kidnapped the poor girl.”  

Another man’s voice. It’s deep, but soft, and it catches you completely by surprise, since you were convinced that no one else was anywhere near you.  

The man who kidnapped you cries out, but it’s too late. Something tough and sturdy wraps around his body and immobilizes him, and in the next moment, your feet are resting comfortably on the ground, right where they ought to be.  

You look up at your savior, who has pale skin, long disheveled black hair, and a lethargic yet stern expression.  

His name is Aizawa Shouta, and he will change the course of your life forever.  

“I’ll never understand what goes through the minds of sickos like you,” Aizawa mutters. 

“I-I wasn’t doing anything wrong!” the other man frantically protests. He’s bound by some weird kind of cloth, and it’s safe to say that he isn’t going anywhere. “We were just enjoying a nice day out, and she was getting a bit rowdy, that’s all. I was bringing her home so that she could calm down! Isn’t that right?” 

He looks over at you expectantly, perhaps hoping that you’ll help him get out of this sticky situation. 

But just because you’re more ignorant than the average person doesn’t mean you’re stupid.  

It's obvious that he’s a bad guy, just like Dr. Garaki.  

“I only met you a few minutes ago,” you say. “And you promised me food but got angry when I wanted to go inside one of the buildings. You grabbed me and forced me to go with you, even though I didn’t want to.”  

Aizawa narrows his eyes, and the man chuckles nervously in response. “Sh-She’s always such a joker. Come on, don’t be that way. You’re going to get your old man in trouble.”  

“Nice try,” Aizawa comments insincerely. “But I’m afraid there’s only one place for creeps like you.”  

The man wails out in protest yet again, but all his pleas fall on deaf ears. It looks like he’s in a lot of trouble. You’re not sure where he’s being sent to, but it probably isn’t someplace nice.  

Aizawa grips onto the cloths tightly, but finally spares you a proper glance. “More importantly, are you okay, kid? That must’ve given you a fright. Everything’s fine now. You’re safe.”  

You frown. Can you really trust him? It’s only been a few hours since you’ve awoken, but so far, your experience with people has been disappointing to say the least. You’re starting to realize that you have to be more on guard. There’s no telling what someone will do next.  

“Who are you?” you ask. “What if you try to hurt me, too?”  

Aizawa smiles sympathetically. “Yes, I understand why you might feel that way. But I promise I’m different from this dirtbag. I’m a hero. Protecting people is what I do. That much, I can promise you.”  

A hero. For some reason, the word evokes a strong feeling.  

Kill heroes. Kill heroes. Kill heroes.  

You wince. That voice in the back of your head is acting up again, making you feel all jumbled up and icky inside. It’s the same voice that was commanding you to obey Dr. Garaki. The voice that you instinctively know you can’t trust.  

But much like before, you manage to fight against it. You shove it to the back of your mind and disregard what it has to say.  

The man in front of you says he’s a hero, and apparently, heroes are supposed to help people. It’s possible that he’s lying. It’s possible that you’re being set up for disappointment again.  

But you decide to give him a chance. 

“I’m Aizawa,” he introduces.  

“I’m [Name],” you say. Even if Dr. Garaki was the one to give you this name, it’s yours now, and you are determined to cherish it. 

Aizawa nods, offers you a small smile, then reaches out to you.  

You take his hand. 

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[jamscandraw]

Ref sheet for my Grimwalker OC Ambrose!! Lore under the cut but he's still in development so some of it may change

According to Emperor Belos Ambrose was “found” washed up on the shore of the Boiling Isles amid a shipwreck. It was concluded that Ambrose came from another far-off island, but with no other survivors and no memories prior to waking up, there was no way of knowing where he came from. Belos gave him a home in the castle and allowed him to train as a scout, and he was promoted to the rank of Golden Guard within a year.

As a Grimwalker, Ambrose was one of Belos’ great successes. He was almost “perfect”, i.e., quick to learn, compliant, loyal, and free of physical deformities, save for symbrachydactyly in his right hand. Disgusted by this “defect”, considering it a failing of his own, Belos told Ambrose it was the result of an injury during the shipwreck, and fashioned him a prosthetic hand with an artificial magic core embedded in the palm. This allowed Ambrose to learn the basics of magic, and because the hand looks like a gauntlet most people do not know he is not a “natural” witch, a rarity among the former Golden Guards. Because of Belos’ high expectations and harsh judgements, Ambrose was incredibly hard on himself over tiny mistakes and feared being perceived as anything less than the perfect devout follower.  He has a shaky sense of his own identity - he feels like a foreigner, but has no connection to his past or his homeland. He fears learning the truth and avoids going too near the sea.

As part of his indoctrination, Belos fed Ambrose old stories from the human world about brave knights and the divine right of kings, like the Knights of the Round Table and St George, and Ambrose became obsessed with them. He loved the concepts of chivalry and great heroes, and began to see himself as the brave Lancelot standing beside King Arthur, and the evils of wild magic were to be defeated like the dragons of old. While this did strengthen his loyalty to Belos it also gave him a sense of duty to the common folk as their protector, and he loved being among the normal residents of the isles more than being stuck in the castle. He gained a lot of respect from the common folk, as he was just as likely to rescue a child from a tree as slay a dragon. He was given the moniker “The Golden Lion”, partly due to his appearance and partly for his displays of bravery.

Ambrose was a skilled warrior and a ruthless fighter. Blinded by his loyalty, he relished in pursuing and defeating Belos’ enemies, believing himself to be the arbiter of justice. It wasn’t until he became close to other witches at court, including the skeptical and brooding Darius, that he started to realise his own hand in people’s suffering and question Belos’ orders. He confronted the Emperor, announcing he could no longer carry out his duty as the Golden Guard, and tried to leave, but was imprisoned. When Belos realised that Ambrose was no longer loyal to him, he gave him one last chance to pledge allegiance. Ambrose refused, despite Darius’ advice, and was executed for treason… (or was he?)

[mintaikk]

Shadowpeach Things I think about A Lot

Note: My knowledge of season 5 is very limited (only seen first 2 eps, and some spoilers). Do not say any spoilers in comments or reblogs. If you want to avoid spoilers completely, I suggest you don't read this

-Peng said it themselves. "Could Wukong do anything that could break his hold over you?" or something like that. But Macaque's entire world was Wukong

-Macaque's dream was spending a peaceful forever with Wukong

-"You were a villain like 5 minutes ago!" Nothing there, but this was when they were having that screaming match and I burst out laughing when I realized that's what Wukong said. He was tho. From s4 to s5, bro went from trying to kill him to living on his mountain again

-Oh, that. "This room(?) has been my home just as long as yours." That's true, but my guy, don't you have like a dojo or smthn? Can't you just live there? Or do you just secretly miss Wukong and want to live on FFM to be closer with him?

-AND WUKONG DOESNT FIGHT BACK EITHER OR ANYTHING. He just sighs and accepts it

-OH YEAH THAT. Macaque sleeps on the same GOD DAMN tree that he and Wukong used to sit at. There are so, so, so many trees on FFM, yet he chose that specific one

-Wukong wanted to spend the remainder of his life holding hands with Macaque

-Correct me if I'm wrong, but in old China, a man giving another man a peach was a sign that they felt romantic love for them. Wukong and Macaque's hole thing is peaches

-"Yeah, because you always eush to my rescue." Wukong believed that Macaque never saved him, but from what we seen in s5, he does. Maybe he always has and Wukong's just never noticed, or maybe Macaque took that to heart and is trying to make up for it

-THE GOD DAMN SLOMO SHOT WHEN WUKONG WAS GOING TO SAVE MK

-Macaque calling Wukong "cute" in the s4 special

-When we first see the ink demons of Wukong's past, one of them was Macaque chained up while struggling and crying. Whatever happened there, it still haunts Wukong

-"I don't trust anyone that isn't standing here right now." WUKONG STILL TRUSTS MACAQUE AFTER EVERYTHING, MACAQUE EVEN PERKS UP AT THAT. And right after this scene, Macaque sacrifices himself to save Wukong. I think Wukong saying that really stuck with him. Maybe that's why he was a lot more helpful this season; Wukong still trusted him, and he didn't want to lose that

-When Wukong was getting the circlet put on him for a second time, Macaque didn't even hesitate when he saw that Wukong was in pain and immediately sprung to help

-Ik it's been talked about before, but the fact that Macaque thinks Wukong killed (and that he was about to again in season 3 when he was literally choking him) him but he still helps him when he can and smiles softly at him and goes out of his way to see him and stares in awe when he sees him coming to help MK and still accepts his peach offer (symbolism for rekindling friendship) and smiles when Wukong says "we" instead of "I" and gets sad when he sees the memory and realizes he wants to rekindle their relationship and crashes a beach party just so he could be with him (Copy and pasted from old post

-This specific art piece that Alejandro Saab commissioned and used for autograph signings

-Macaque literally looking away and smiling in this shot bro looks like a schoolgirl with a crush 💀

-Wukong was shown to help Macaque tie his scarf when they were still friends and in the shots of their past, Macaque's scarf is always tied. But now that they're not friends, his scarf is never tied. I just find this detail neat

-As much as Macaque tried to kill Wukong between s1 and s3, the moment Wukong was genuinely mad at him, Macaque's first instinct was to run. Even when Wukong was holding him, he was still shaking Yes, he probably couldn't breathe bcuz choking, but these guys are immortal and with the whole thing underwater, I don't think they actually need to breathe. So this means that he was probably terrified the entire time, and thinking that Wukong would kill him again (I fucking hate doomed yaoi)

-Now that I think about it, the only time we see Macaque scared was with LBD, Sun Wukong attacking him, Sun Wukong getting attacked or being endanger, MK being endangered, Bai He being endangered, or actually having to deal with the idea of staying with Wukong to help him (s4, MK going on that whole "I gotta help my friends" speech while Mei is being consumed by the Samahdi fire). Most of those things are Wukong and Monkey fam related

-Alejandro Saab doing a cover of peaches. Istg, he KNEW what he was doing when he pulled that one

-Correct me if I'm wrong again, but apparently, some gay men in ancient China would become sworn brothers so they could be together legally. Other than Shadowpeach, I was never much a brotherhood shipper, but do what you will with this info

-ALEJANDRO SAAB BELIEVES THAT MACAQUE IS SHORTER THAN WUKONG! THE DEBATE IS OVER YALL

-"Forever is a long time, bud." "Me and you just living here get on fat on fruit forever!" Bro was definetly thinking of Macaque

[amarmoria]

Love and Legion│Act Ⅰ

Summary: 𝑳𝒖𝒄𝒊𝒍𝒍𝒂 𝑨𝒖𝒓𝒆𝒍𝒊𝒖𝒔 adopted you almost 14 years ago, after a catastrophic invasion of your country from the two tyrannic Twin Emperors of Rome, only just two years after sending her son away, she can't help but feel pity and guilt at a little child who was just a years younger than her son should've been right now and in an indisputable argument with some of the senators, she successfully stole you away from the hands of your unknown parents.

Lucilla meets her beloved husband and courageous General, 𝑴𝒂𝒓𝒄𝒖𝒔 𝑨𝒄𝒂𝒄𝒊𝒖𝒔 many years later, and marries him in hopes of finding protection and love she once seeked in another-- and she did of course. Only a few years later when tensions began brewing between you and your beloved 𝑺𝒕𝒆𝒑-𝑭𝒂𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓, a tension that should not and should've never existed in the first place.

And even more chaos prevails when 𝑯𝒂𝒏𝒏𝒐, a Gladiator brought by the war catches your mother's undivided attention. You don't know why she's so interested in some vicious gladiator until you confronted him to cure the growing dislike h̶a̶t̶r̶e̶d̶ you have towards him.

𝑨 𝑺𝒕𝒆𝒑-𝑭𝒂𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝑴𝒂𝒓𝒄𝒖𝒔 𝑨𝒄𝒂𝒄𝒊𝒖𝒔 𝒙 𝑹𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓 𝒙 𝑳𝒖𝒄𝒊𝒖𝒔 '𝑯𝒂𝒏𝒏𝒐' 𝑽𝒆𝒓𝒖𝒔 𝑨𝒖𝒓𝒆𝒍𝒊𝒖𝒔 𝐹𝑖𝑐

➪ 𝘿𝙊𝙉'𝙏 𝘓𝘪𝘬𝘦, 𝘿𝙊𝙉'𝙏 𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘥 𝘗𝘰𝘭𝘪𝘤𝘺.

➪ 𝘛𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘧𝘢𝘯𝘧𝘪𝘤 𝘪𝘴 𝙁𝙞𝙘𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣𝙖𝙡, 𝙉𝙊𝙏 𝙍𝙚𝙖𝙡, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘥𝘦𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘪𝘵𝘦𝘭𝘺 𝙉𝙊𝙏 𝙚𝙣𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙧𝙖𝙜𝙚𝙙 𝘪𝘯 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭 𝘭𝘪𝘧𝘦.

➪ 𝙉𝙊𝙉𝙀 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘦, 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘧𝘶𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘣𝘦𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰 𝘎𝘭𝘢𝘥𝘪𝘢𝘵𝘰𝘳 1 𝘢𝘯𝘥 2.

➪ 𝘌𝘯𝘨𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘩 𝘪𝘴 𝙣𝙤𝙩 𝘮𝘺 𝘧𝘪𝘳𝘴𝘵 𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘶𝘢𝘨𝘦. 𝘍𝘰𝘳𝘨𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘮𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘢𝘯𝘺 𝘨𝘳𝘢𝘮𝘮𝘢𝘳 𝘮𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘬𝘦𝘴.

Series Masterlist

Realm's Delight the poets willed you, just not long after Lucilla rescued you from near death. Despite the hushed whispers of resistance, no one dared to speak up against the Princess of Rome. And not long after she brought you back, the people were singing and celebrating outside your home, holding festivals and carnivals.

And of course, the twin emperor's annual gladiator pit was a way of celebrating your new 'birth' as the 2nd princess of Rome, though the title was quickly obliterated and made it as it is now.

Over time, the twin emperors grew fond of you and dubbed you as Emperor Geta's 'Dundus', which your mother was greatly offended, but chose to keep mute on the subject, not wanting to anger the two.

Your mother always dresses you in the most grand gowns. Never would one catch you dead in a garment made of wool or linen, gods let them see you or Lucilla will be their end. You had maids assist you everywhere you go, not like your mother lets you go out when you were 8 of years, but when you do, there were not less than 6 of them hovering around you, much less than your Equites (knights), if you think the maids were suffocating, how much more was your battalion of hundreds, exaggerated obviously, but it was how it looked like in your eyes before.

Your magistra, or they also call it teacher, was your mother’s when she was a child, she didn't trust anyone outside to teach and govern her only daughter, so it was her until you grew old enough to have her removed.

And as trees withered, you grew, the young girl hiding behind her mother's skirt has departed but not forgotten, for people would always remember her, like your very first name day, though it was the 6th name day in your honor, everyone had gathered in your mother's gardens while you stuck yourself in her bosom the whole time, you would not leave her until they all left for their beds.

She laughed the whole night, maybe even now if you would remind her. She told you she loved you not any less than her son. The older maids told you when you pestered them that the princess has never been this happy in those 2 years she 'lost' her son. Of the cause of losing her son, they did not speak. Others say that he was assassinated the night following Maximus' death. But every maid and knight tell other tales, or many of such tales, each differs from the other, so you learned not to listen to their story of theories.

"My lady," your focus broke as a voice cut through your thoughts. "Huh— what?"

"Ah, the silk, my lady. Might I inquire as to the color that would best please you?" 

You give your maid a smile before leaning in the stall to browse the silk sheets. "Hm,"

"I do like that one," you point to the baby blues, then your eyes get caught on the burgundy. 

"Oh, how splendid this shade of red appears! Truly, it is a vision of beauty." Your other maid sang, and all the others nodded and agreed. "Very well. We shall take the burgundy, the baby blue, the pink, and the purple adorned with gold, if you please. My thanks."

You were about to reach for your money when the maid pulled out a bag of coins that was clearly from your mother and handed the merchant the payment.

"Thank you, Aemma. " You bowed your head slightly in her direction, even though you obviously didn't need your mother's money. Aemma had been your maid since your mother took you in. Only being a teen when she was hired, she quickly gained your favor and your mother's. The both of you grew up together and your friendship remained steadfast throughout the years.

"Shall that be all, Princess?" The merchant says, handing your maids the boxes of silk. "It is. I bid you good morrow," you bow and smile. You wait until the maids situated themselves with the boxes before you continue to stroll farther down the market.

You pull the hood of your cloak over your head, shielding your eyes from the scorching sun. You opted to wear a lighter and thinner fabric than you usually use because of the heat that's been torturing Rome for a while now; you wonder if someone angered the sun god for Rome to suffer like this.

You sigh as you fan yourself harder. Your gaze falls on the structure, its gigantic walls impossible to ignore. The Colosseum. Every day, gladiators from every corner of the world fight there, a place you’ve been wanting to visit but have been strictly off-limits, thanks to your mother and Acacius. 

Every one of your friends had already watched a gladiator fight once while you didn't even get to step near it, a curse or a blessing?

A—

"..Bullshit," 

You hear your maid's gasp behind you, except Aemma, for she's already used to you. Your hood fell from your head, exposing you to the heat, but you did not pay care, your focus remained on the grand Colosseum, towering and timeless, there was a time where man didn't even know how to make a fire, and now you stood in front of its arches, carved by centuries of wind and whispers.

"My lady?" You snapped out of your reverie, turning your head over your shoulder to look behind you.

"Are you coming?" A knight says. You looked back to the colosseum, then back to your maids and knights.

Your shoulders sagged as you turned your back and departed, disappointment etched in your every step.

"Let's go." You murmured, they followed behind you as you dejectedly turned in the direction of your house. But just before you could take another step, Aemma pipes up.

"Ah! The General returns home this day, my lady."

𓃗

You dressed yourself for bed, the not so sheer fabric sliding across your body as you yawned for the umpteenth time of the day. You're just so bored these days, even shopping does not entertain you no longer. 

He's coming today though. The thought gave that spark in your eyes. You won't be so bored anymore, just watching him entertains you, but isn't that his role though? To entertain the emperors in their futile attempts at making Rome great again, you wonder why he tolerates their company. You can clearly see the disgust on his face whenever they say something.

You sat on your vanity, lighting the candles one by one. Then you took your hair out of its style, carefully removing the ties and clips embroidered in by your mother, then untangling the knots. You let your hair free for the night as your arms stretched up. Maybe today's shopping did tire you, but still it did not amuse you.

You took tentative steps towards the door, softly opening it and closing when you got out. Then you jogged quietly to the sitting room, careful not to wake Aemma, or she'd be obliged to stay with you until you slumbered.

You sat down on the sofa and waited for the time to pass. The hours seemed to stretch on like an endless, quiet hum in the background. You played with the board game, then read a book to which you abandoned after almost falling asleep. You peeked out the window yet again, but still no sign of him.

You let out a small sigh, shifting uncomfortably on the soft sofa, your mind wondering at the patterns in the room. You grew bored enough that you started pacing circles around the low table.

You don't know how much time had already passed as you were already fast asleep on the couch, your hands under your chin supporting it, your mouth wide open as you drooled on the pillow.

You only heard the gates creaking open, and the sound of hooves running in, but you were too tired and weepy to even open your eyes that you succumbed to slumber. Then you heard his heavy footsteps approaching you. The deep rumble of his voice as he spoke of something you didn't make out. One second there were voices and another you were in the air, hands secured under your neck and knees, lifting you up. He didn't even grunt or struggle, like you were something inanimate.

"..amor.. here.. go," you frowned, but remained still, not like you could wake up. You could only hear a few words, barely clear, and that was it all before you completely slept in the darkness.

𓃗

"He called it, The Dream of Rome,"

"Dream of Rome?" 

"Yes, where good people rule instead of the big, bad people."

"Wow! I want that too! I want to build the biggest statue of you and I'm, I'm gonna put mine beside it! I'm gonna make sure that all the people in the world are rich! A-and I’m gonna give the money to the people outside too!”

"Me too, Carissima"  Lucilla kisses your head. "Me too."

𓃗

"No, I heard the emperors are to host a private gathering later, where two gladiators shall fight for their amusement!"

"What, truly? Ye cannae be speakin' in jest! I’m certainly goin’ to see this for meself!"

You rolled your eyes, eyeing your unfinished bitter tea. 

You woke up with a start earlier, your hair disheveled and dried drool on your chin. Your memory was hazy from last night, but you definitely don't remember sleeping in your room, and you surely don't sleepwalk, do you?

"Lady Aurelius~!" You snapped from your thoughts when you heard that bitchy voice beside your ear. 

"What." You say. Clenching your jaw as you gripped the teacup. "Coming with us later, or are you going to chicken out again?"

You grip the teacup till your knuckles almost turn white as their shrilling laughs reach your ears. You absolutely don't 'chicken out', you scoff. It's just that your mother doesn't like you wandering off and risking yourself getting in harm's way.

But you certainly don't chicken out, no way, and you're undoubtedly not going to ruin a quarter of your reputation to these degenerates.

".. I shall go." You wince as they jump off their seats, clapping and howling as they excitedly 'plan' the escape. Most of the parents of your friends have not less than the rank of patricians and nobles, so they are also on high prison level monitoring, but yours was the highest in the friend group, if you can even call it that.

"Okay, sae this is gaun'ae be our final plan fo later, we must arrive in this designated place after 4 hours sharp, enouch time for ye tae escape, got it??"

"Sir yes sir!"

"Aye!"

"Let's go battalion!"

𓃗

"I shall catch up on my rest. Please, do not disturb me!" You yelled, making sure it echoes around the place so it reaches everyone. 

You exhale in a short, hurried breath, dusting your disguise as you turn your head to Aemma, who dressed up as you.

"M-my lady, this far is t-too dangerous, my lady will have my head—"

"Fear not, Aemma. I shall return here you can even blink." 

"But my lady—"

Without letting her finish, you stood on the edge of the window, gripping the blanket you tied together into a makeshift rope tightly. A thick blob of sweat slid down your forehead, your breath hitched at your chest as you tried to steady yourself.

There isn't going back, anyway.

And for the last time before you violate the very thing your mother was so strict about, you glanced over your shoulder at your maid; she was dressed in your most expensive gown, her hair hidden beneath the veil you gave her. While you were dressed in her daily attire as a maid, the both of you switched closets just after you had convinced her for nearly an hour. You can tell she wants to stop you, but who was she to do that? 

And turning your face to her, you clutched the blanket tightly in your two hands, it's fabric rough under your fingers, slowly, you lowered yourself, feeling the fabric tug at your hands as you began to slide down, the rope beneath you swaying from side to side, you held your breath trying to discern if your mother heard, after a few seconds of nothing, you continued your venture. 

Your hands were beginning to hurt and turn red from the rope, but you're too far ahead to back out, so you quickly doubled your speed and not long after your feet finally hit the ground. You celebrated internally, huffing and puffing with your hands on your knees.

You looked up to see Aemma looking relieved, you smiled and waved at her, to which she returned and shooed you away.

She mouthed you the word hurry before you quietly ran for the gates.

Good thing you weren't that tired tonight or you would've given up running halfway across the yard. Another thing, though, was the gate. If you open it and it makes that loud shrieking sound, you're dead. 

You frowned and looked around, trying to think of something, anything. You were almost out of wits when you spotted a huge stone just beside the wall.

Thank the Gods.

You let out a deep sigh of relief, your shoulders slumping from the tension escaping your body. You almost thought you had to go back and just accept death, but good thing the Gods were with you.

You jogged to where it was, the rock was slippery, but enough for you to stand on, you just have to grip the wall and jump over.

You groaned as you lifted yourself from the rock, holding onto the wall like your life depended on it. After regenerating your lungs, you swung your right leg over the wall, then pulled yourself up to sit on the wall, then you swung your other leg over, and like sitting on a tall chair, you hopped off the wall.

Your landing on the ground felt so good your knees gave out and you landed on a soft patch of grass. Beads of sweat filled your forehead, and you wheezed, panting heavily.

But you have to hurry. The other set of guards were already arriving in minutes after a small break from their shift. You looked up at the sun. 10 minutes.

Enough time for you to run out of the estate.

You took a deep breath and pushed yourself off the ground, your legs pumping into motion. Then you took off, your legs pumping as soon as you took your second step, the air was cool, but speed quickly warmed you up, you were sweating almost everywhere, but you couldn't stop, the rhythm of your breath matched the beating of your heart. 

In the next few moments, you could hear your heart beating from everywhere across your body, the sound of your feet hitting the ground, and the weight of seconds passing by. 

Every step was sharper, harder. You swore the ground almost shook. The clock in your mind ticked down, 10 minutes—you could make it. Your muscles burned, but you didn't slow down, obviously.

And finally, you reached the bustling market of the main city. You guys were supposed to meet up behind the bank. You frowned and looked around. With all these people, it would take you half a year to get to it.

Your eyes scanned around until you found the enormous building up ahead. You were just about to jog to the back when you felt a sharp push on your shoulder from behind. The unexpected jolt threw you off balance for a moment, and you stumbled slightly before catching yourself. Whipping around, you saw who had bumped into you, a mix of surprise and annoyance flashing across your face.

That was before you realized it was a knight of high status, much like your knights but this one was bigger, more bulked. He scowled in your direction, you quickly siddled backwards, he was beside a carriage with a cage behind it. It was withered and old and rusty. You had expected an animal or maybe food for delivery inside, something small, easily handled. But what surprised you was something much bigger. There, sitting on a wooden, worn bench, was a man. His arms rested on his knees, and his head hung low, as though in silent prayer. You blinked, trying to make sense of the strange sight. Your gaze lingered a moment too long, and suddenly, as if he felt your stare, his head shot up. His bright blue eyes locked with yours, and your breath caught in your throat.

Your eyes widened in shock, but his expression remained unreadable, unblinking, as though this moment was nothing new to him. His glare burned holes right through the back of your head. You willed yourself to look away from the man, his gaze overwhelming.

You were roused from your thoughts when another guy in armour knocked into you, sending you stumbling backwards yet again.

"Fucking—" he hisses, brushing off his armour. "Move aside, whore." He spits on the ground near your foot.

You gasped and involuntarily stepped back in shock. Whore?! You are not a whore! You've never even kissed someone! Much less go whoring around!

You clenched your jaw. "Excuse me but I am not a whore mister."

He halts his movements. "Big mouth for slut like you huh? Bet you could fit the whole of Rome in there," he snorts, his laugh ugly to the ears. 

"I beg your pardon—" The slap landed hard on your face, you clutched your cheek and winced as it stings from the touch of your hand. 

"Tch, that's what screaming whores get from me. Now move aside, harlot"

A shakey breath disguised as a scoff escapes from your mouth, both your hands clutching your tender cheek. 

What you didn’t notice was the piercing gaze of the man, unwavering and fixed on you as the scene played out in front of him.

𓃗

"Oh—! Good gods! We've been standing around for ages waiting for you!"

You pant, your cheek still tender but less puffy and red. "M-my apologies. I had—"

"There is no time for such nonsense; let us proceed!"

You exhaled heavily as they ushered you to hurry behind them. 

"Ugh, I'm so focking excited!" Squealed the girl beside you. 

"Shut your pie hole, Alyssa! Should we be discovered due to your loose tongue, I shall your arse once and for all!" The ginger in front of you whispered. If you weren't so distracted by what happened earlier you would've laughed at them and their antics, they always were bickering like children ever since you met them, but honestly, as the only children of their respective families and being cousins wasn't so shocking when they would clash their heads off.

Not long after, you finally arrived at the 'party'. But the party was certainly... Unique.

There were these almost naked exotic dancers on poles. They wore thick and clumpy makeup but still made it look good. Their attire was.. quirky, resembling a jester but the fabric was of silk which was very expensive.

Then there were tigers chained to the walls in cages as people gaped and checked them out.

Almost everyone was wearing masks, except the servants, and of course the emperors, they were cheering and howling loudly as they conversed with their... Escorts.

You cringe inwardly, shuddering in repulsion as one of them licks Emperor Geta's neck.

"Oh. My. Word!" your friend behind you whispers. "Indeed! This is truly extraordinary! I find it most delightful!”

"I have never attended a gathering of this nature!”

It was said the two emperors would often engage in.. unconventional parties. One of those was this. 

No one would say anything more in front of you but you heard they did things here, in an unusual but particular way, but you didn't understand what they meant until this. Maybe they meant how wild the guests and the party were?

"Look! Look! It's starting!" Your friend exclaimed, tapping your shoulder as she pointed at the center of the room.

A hush fell over the crowd and a man with gold crowns and green robes entered.

"My emperors! Ladies and gentlemen! And senators," he bows dramatically, whipping his head down as his hands stretch outwards to the side. Then he flicks his head up like he had hair, then proceeds strutting around the center.

"For your entertainment," he pauses, looking around proudly like he owned the crowd. "The art.. of combat!"

The crowd gasps in awe, as well as your friends, who murmured in astonishment. 

"May I present— The Barbarian..." Your gaze is immediately fixed on the man as he enters the room, though you could not see him clearly as you were at the very back of the crowd, the people were towering over one another as they wrestled for a look at the barbarian. Moments later the crowd erupted into a flood of cheers and claps.

"What's happening?" You whispered to your friend, who was also busy hollering. 

Alyssa, who was nearer to you, replied. "The barbarian and the renowned warrior are about to engage in combat!"

You bit your lip and stood on your toes to get a better view of the fight, but as you do, so did the others, so now you're stuck in an endless domino effect with the greedy people in front of you.

"I— can't see—" you choked out. It was getting real tight in the back when you started hearing the punches and grunts. 

"Oh! Goodness!" Alyssa gasped. "What is it? What is it?"

"He just shattered that precious vase upon the other man’s head as though it were of no consequence!"

"How would you know it is of such value?"

"Pray, it is simple! My mother owns one as well! The artisan crafted but fifty of them in all the world!"

Each blow and strike sent the crowd into a frenzy of gasps and hollers, their excitement building with every move. 

Seconds later you hear a thud echoing around the room, you see a pillar from afar slightly shaken. And not long after a loud bang was heard across the room, the crowd gasped, either at shock or amusement, or both.

But you, on the other hand, just did not feel it. You came all this way and struggled for what seemed like so long, violated your mother, and you couldn't even see what you battled for.

The audience clapped for what you assume was the winner, then the sound of a sword clattering on the ground.

"Remarkable! Remarkable!" You hear Geta clap. 

As the emperor began walking to the winner, the crowd began pushing and pulling in front of you, wanting to take witness to the event transpiring, and so it results in you getting pushed away and abruptly separated from the rest of your friends, you tried gripping the hood of the one nearest to you only for your arm to be swatted away by some bystander.

"H-hey! Guys!" You yelled, but the crowd was too loud and they were too distracted to take notice that you were already drifting away from them.

"Stop!" You clutch the hood of your cloak, careful not to reveal yourself as the crowd pressed in around you, constantly shoving and bumping as they moved, making it hard to stay balanced.

"Guys I'm here!" You yell yet again, but tour attempts are futile when the crowd easily overpowers your voice of alarm.

Mere moments after you're struggling when the crowd pops you out of them, finally getting the chance to breathe without smelling their uncured body odors.

And just as you thought you were free, a firm grip seized your arm, yanking you to the side before you could react. 

"W-what! Stop! Help mmphm!" Your eyes widened as you were met by a knight, one with the same armour as the guy who called you a whore but it wasn't him, he was bald and the knight holding you now wasn't.

"Are you a servant in this establishment?" His gruff voice says. "W-what? No, certainly not—!"

And before you get a chance to speak, he drags you with him deeper into the hallway. You pulled and tugged on your arm from his deadly tight grip, but no matter how hard you did, he didn't budge.

While you kept writhing and struggling beside him, you already arrived in a room, he yanked the door open, impatient to get in, your eyes flicker to the jail-like door which his other companion opened with a key, once it was open, he dragged you inside a bathroom like room, complete with a tub, sink and toilet.

Then your eyes fixed on a man in the gigantic tub. He also seemed surprised at the commotion when his eyes opened sharply, scanning his surroundings and finally landing on you.

"Do your job, whore," the knight grumbles. You yelped as he shoved you on the ground, your hands slipping on the wet floor and just falling on your face. 

"This is preposterous!" You yelled, groaning as you held your nose. You felt a trickle of liquid down your nose, your eyes widened as you saw the blood dripping on the floor.

"My n-nose!" You pushed yourself from the floor, your hood sliding off your head. "Urgh,"

"Who goes there?" You hear the man say, a low grumble in his voice. "Do not inquire of me, for I am the one cast into this place!"

You rolled your eyes as you turned to look at him. You looked up and stilled, the blood still dripping down your nose. 

He's the barbarian? You were locked in a staring contest with the barbarian, his glare unwavering while yours were shaking. 

"Y-you're.." your mouth opens in shock while still clutching your nose.

"I'm what?" His eyebrow raises up. "You're, the, b-bar—"

"Barbarian?" He scoffs but says nothing further, flicking the coins on the tub to the ground.

You huff. "Tch, rude.."

"What'd you say?" He tilts his head upward, not sparing a glance at you. "I said get me out of here."

"Pray, tell me, why would I do such a thing?"

"B-because—!," you shoot him your best glare, hoping he'd follow, but a deep, rumbling chuckle echoed from his chest, a sound that seemed to vibrate the air with a dark, almost animalistic undertone. 

It wasn’t the kind of laugh that invited warmth or joy—rather, it was low and menacing, like the growl of a predator stalking its prey. The sound felt heavy, as though it carried the weight of something far more dangerous lurking just beneath the surface.

"Very well, Your Highness. What benefit would it bring me to set you free?" He spoke coldly. "Hm? Did the man not give you a direct command to perform your duties, or was that only me?"

You scowl, jaw clenching over your growing irritation.

"Release me, I implore you." You grit your teeth. But still, he didn't budge, ignoring you completely.

What the fuck is his problem. It was already noon and your mother might've already sent Acacius's battalion to find you.

[jjcre8]

✩˚｡⋆ 𝐁𝐀𝐓𝐌𝐀𝐍: 𝐀𝐑𝐊𝐇𝐀𝐌 𝐀𝐒𝐘𝐋𝐔𝐌 𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒.

below is a list of dialogue said by various characters , including villains , guards & doctors , & The Batman himself. this dialogue was gathered from the game wiki page , & compiled into a list for easy access & use. feel free to change names & pronouns as needed. do not add to the list , & always reblog from the source.

TW DISCLAIMER. this meme may contain potentially triggering content , pertaining to care of patients in the batman franchise.

" How did he get out? I mean, you're here and... "

" Some loyalty! Do you need any help? "

" You and your men are safer here. I'll find you if I need anything. "

" I saw the alert, what's wrong? Where are you? "

" I don't get it. This place is supposed to be secure. "

" Unfortunately, some of the patients will always try and escape. I'll stop them. "

" Thanks for the concern, officer, but it will take more than guns to stop me. "

" I'll take care of this. "

" Thanks. Let me know if you need backup. "

" Exactly. He's left me a trail to follow. He's alive. "

" You wait here. I'll be back. "

" You heard the lady. We've got another psycho on the way. "

" Keep your weapons trained on it at all times. "

" It's my favourite show. I'm Warden Idiot, You'll Never Escape'. "

" Just gotta check your prisoner. "

" You have to listen to me! It's a mistake. I didn't do it! "

" I've waited a long time for this, Bats. Let's start the party. With a BANG. "

" I think you need a little more...! Tell me, what demons do you have left to beat? Shall we see? "

" This isn't a simple escape attempt. Joker's been planning this. "

" Please help me! "

" You're going to be fine. Stay here. "

" Batman's here! Just hold on a little longer! "

" I want all the doctors rounded up. Search every inch of the Medical building. I mean it. "

" La la la la lu lu lu la! Hey! Scram, Bats! This is my me time. "

" Shut it and get down there with the others. MOVE IT!! "

" Batman's as good as dead. "

" The medical building is ours. No one's takin' it from us. "

" I can't wait to get outta here. This hospital scares the crap out of me. "

" Man, I hate the smell of hospitals. "

" Ain't hospitals supposed to be clean? This place stinks. "

" The room's clear. You're safe now. "

" Did they have anyone with them? "

" They took someone into the elevator, I couldn't tell who it was. "

" We'll be fine. "

" What about the others? We heard gunfire. They could be dead. "

" Batman, we've got another problem. "

" Why are you doing this? I have done exactly as you've asked "

" Look at me, you think I care? Stop your whining and listen good. "

" Keep quiet. I'm not sure how much more of your yapping I can take. "

" Bad publicity will effect his campaign for Mayor. "

" Don't speak. You're safe now. "

" What are you waiting for?! April Fools' day?! Get down there! "

" HE'S HERE! "

" Yeah. Big Bad Batman. C'mon, tough guy, come and get us. "

" Oh. Look at him, stuck out there. Ain't ya got a cat to rescue from a tree or something? "

" Yeah, that's right. Go on. Get lost. We're in control. "

" Is he dead? "

" I think so. "

" You may wanna do a quick head count. "

" BABOOM! Another one bites the dust. "

" Batman's as good as dead. "

" Yeah. Give us orders and then sit in your nice safe room while we fight Batman. Nice... "

" Batman? Can you hear me? Show yourself! "

" Oh, I'd like to thank my fans for their undying support, and the people of Gotham, who I will be seeing very soon. "

" I salute my fallen enemy. "

" Oh. Isn't that cute. Little Bat's a-sleepin'. Someone finsh him off. "

" That loser didn't stand a chance. I mean, look at me. "

" Gotta say. I thought you'd last longer. "

" Loser, Loser, Loser! "

" Bye bye, Bats! "

" Once again I have defeated you, Batman! "

" I will enjoy feasting on your bones. "

" Tick, tock. Feed the Croc. "

" And at the end of fear, oblivion. "

" Now madness takes you, forever. "

" You're dead and buried, darling. "

" Sorry, love, you're plucked. "

[superbat-love]

"Are you on your daily game of hide & seek again?" An amused voice crackled in his ear over the commlink.

Batman scowled, holding up the binoculars to his eyes. His target was currently rescuing a cat stuck in a tree. So far so good. He adjusted his suit's settings and decided to move closer to the target.

"This isn’t a game, Nightwing. It's a test."

"Whatever you say, boss."

Batman ignored the sarcasm in Nightwing’s voice and looked through his binoculars again. Only to see his target's shiny white teeth up close and personal as he grinned widely at him.

"Hi B!" his target said happily, hovering over him. As if that was not infuriating enough, the target swooped down to kiss him and quickly flew off before he could land a punch.

"The test was unsuccessful. Target had spotted me. I'm going back to base to make further modifications to my stealth tech suit.” Batman keyed in the commands for his jet.

“Sooo, how many kisses have there been already? Oh wait, you’re not going to answer the question. Ehem, let me rephrase that. How many failed attempts were there?”

“This is attempt Number 9,” Batman growled.

“At least Superman seems happy to be volunteering for this experiment.”

[katyawriteswhump]

top of the world, steddie microfic

For @steddiemicrofic May prompt ‘Top’.

Rating: T  CW: None WC: 510  Tags: kid fic, flashback, established Steddie, mild angst.

Inspired by a discord plot bunny from @bananahoneycomb that I've totally not done justice to (where steddie have been dating for a while before they realize they once knew each other before. ) Thank you anyway <3

... 

Eddie’s gotten Steve squished between him and a tree, and they’re kissing each other stupid. When they break apart—breathing is tragically necessary—Eddie glances to the treetops to snatch a giddy, Is this real? moment. Steve dabs his tongue around kiss-swollen lips and leans in to start the kiss over.

Eddie’s still staring upward: “Holy shit!”

“What is it?”

“I remember this exact tree. Some kid I once knew got stuck in it.”

Steve glances skyward, tenses, colour draining from his face. “Jesus, Munson—that was me.”

…

1977

“Johnny?”

On hearing his friend shouting from the treetop, Eddie cringed. If he’d known he’d pass the best month ever with this kid, he wouldn’t have lied about his name.

“I’m at the top, Johnny! C’mon!”

“Still gonna pass, Han. Not a huge fan of heights.”

“Wuss.”

“Ever coming down?”

Eddie waited. And waited. Han shouted, “Sure you won’t climb up?”

“Look, you win. You’re the dude. I’m a candy-ass dweeb.”

“Johnny, please.” Han’s voice turned wobbly. “You gotta help me. I’m stuck.”

…

“Hey, kid?” A voice rumbled from the bottom of Steve’s tree. “It’s Deputy Hopper. Got a ladder here. You think you can climb down?”

Steve’s arms and legs ached from clinging to the branches. He’d been AWESOME going up. Descending, he’d peeped downward, totally frozen up.

“N-not sure.” Steve sniffled. “C-can’t move.”

He daren’t even wipe his tears. This epically sucked. Being rescued like a stranded kitten was humiliating. Knowing he’d made a dork of himself in front of Johnny hurt worse.

“It’s Han, right?” called Hopper, ascending the ladder. Steve cringed. The dumbass things he’d done to impress Johnny! Then again, who wouldn’t want to be Han Solo for a summer? “You local?”

“It’s not Han. It’s Steve Harrington.” He bit his wibbly lower lip. When his parents discovered he’d been playing with strange kids in the forest, he’d be in deep shit. Right now, he didn’t care. “I want to go home.”

…

Eddie and Steve start garbling as one:

“Seriously?” Steve plants his hands furiously on his hips. “You deserted me up the stupid tree! I never saw you again!”

“Got help, didn’t I? I was scared too. When I knew you were safe, I basically fled—inherited my Dad’s healthy suspicion of the police, okay? Anyhow, you never showed again, either.”

“I was grounded till fall!”

“My mom moved away for work! I came back to Hawkins, years later, and then… I guess I had tats, the rocker hair. I looked for you, but… You used to be blonder, right, Han?”

“Yeah, Johnny?”

“Wanted to be Johnny Rotten—my short-lived Sex Pistols phase. Felt bad for lying. I didn’t expect to like you.”

“Well, I did all that shit to impress you. I guess you were my first crush. I was miserable for ages when you literally vanished.”

“Back at ya!”

They glare. Eddie’s fingers return to the nape of Steve’s neck, stroking tenderly. “Guess this makes us childhood sweethearts. How vomit-inducingly sweet.”

Steve huffs, rolls his eyes, and they launch into another blisteringly hot make-out session.