#i used to go w my mom but her knees have been getting worse lately

[minglana]

i need to go walking somewhere. sierra de guara is calling to me it literally has been calling to me this past year I NEED TO GO HIKING THERE!!!!!!!!!!!!! but i have no one to go with

[mercy-burning]

Your Favorite — Part 2

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader Summary: Y/N and Spencer decide to keep seeing each other in secret. Category: SMUT (18+) Content: Adults w/ age gap, cockwarming, heavy petting, penetrative/unprotected sex, breeding kink, oral sex (both receiving), degradation, exhibitionism, fingering, cum play maybe? Word Count: 7.5k

PART 1 | PART 2 | PART 3 | MASTERLIST

NOTE: This is... *nervous laugh* this is pure filth. Like... It’s nothing but sex scenes, y’all. Buckle in. (Also the end is a lil angsty so watch out hehehe)

———

JULY 8th

"You're sure you guys are okay without me for a little while?"

I love my mom. Really, I do.

But if she delays her bath for any longer than one more second, I'm going to burst into flames.

Thankfully it seems that Spencer is patient enough for the both of us. "Positive. You deserve to relax a little. Go. Take your bath, we'll be fine."

Mom looks to me for extra reassurance, and I give it to her with a nod.

"Okay. I'll try not to be too long."

She turns and kisses Spencer, long and lovesick, and I want to barf. What's even worse is that when she pulls away and pats my head before retreating up the stairs, he's smiling. And he's supposed to, I know that. Part of him obviously cares about my mom, and even if he's only fucking me on the side, the fact remains that he goes to sleep next to her. That's the way it has to be.

But it still makes me incredibly envious.

It's a problem.

Mom is upstairs now, but our rule is that unless we know for certain that she's not coming into sight or earshot anytime soon, we remain distant.

Still, I make my distaste for their affections known. "You guys are gross..."

Spencer laughs, his hand sneaking over the couch cushion and grazing the end of my skirt. "Jealous, are we?"

Of course, I have to make it difficult for him. "You're a genius, you tell me..."

"Hey now... You're lucky I'm giving you any attention at all... Besides, you know the rules."

I glance over at him, practically crumbling apart at the seams under his intense gaze. It's one I've gotten used to as of late, one that rivals every smile I've ever seen him give my mother.

"Doesn't make it any easier," I mumble, glancing down at where his fingers are still toying with my skirt.

"I know..." He reaches out and touches my hand, and my skin tingles. "Come here."

Even though I can hear that the bath water has only just started running from below, I comply all the same. I scramble off the couch and return on his lap, straddling him and nesting my fingers through his hair while I lean in to kiss him.

He welcomes me with open arms and an open mouth. The moment our tongues brush, I sigh and melt into him, needing desperately to be as close as possible. Our kisses then are languid and wet, and soft. We don't want to get carried away in case we need to be alert and jump apart, so it's best to keep our bodies controlled.

But as I'm learning, around Spencer, controlling myself is painstakingly difficult.

A whine escapes me when his right hand slips under my skirt and rests along the inside of my thigh, and I shift, silently begging him to give me more.

"So impatient..." he mumbles over my mouth.

I pull away and slide my hands down over his neck and shoulders, my hips rolling forward as I pout. "I haven't had you all week. I'm lonely..."

It's true.

Once all my STD tests came back clean and I got my birth control figured out and solid, the first thing he did was tell my mom he wasn't feeling well and texted me the address to his apartment. And after I told her I was meeting up with a friend, I drove over there and got my brains completely fucked out. We spent all day under the sheets, on the couch, over the kitchen counter, and then on the floor, until I had to go home and pretend like it never happened.

Since then we'd only slept together once, and that was just over a week ago, quickly while Mom ran to the store for an onion of all things. And then Spencer had been busy with consulting on new cases that his old job wanted a little help with, and once he had free time, Mom insisted they go on a date weekend.

I pout harder, stomach churning at the memory of the look he gave me before they left—a silent, sweet goodbye that had left me empty and wanting.

But he's just amused.

A smirk ghosts over his lips, red and a little puffy from the pressure of my own against them. "So I definitely can't trust you to be quiet enough to fuck you properly..."

That warrants another whine and another roll of my hips, and I can feel his hand gripping my thigh a little tighter.

"Please... Spencer, I need you..."

His name rolling off my tongue must be what makes him give into me, because I barely have time to react before he's kissing me again, using both of his hands to lift the back of my skirt up and knead my ass.

"Wait... Are you wearing..."

I grin over his lips, wiggling my ass into his touch and utterly turned on by the fact that he knows what underwear I'm wearing just by touch.

"Mhmm," I answer, nipping his bottom lip. "Your favorite..."

The sound that rumbles in his chest as he crashes his body against mine has to be the sexiest thing I've ever heard. He's obviously trying not to be loud, but it's hard, and that makes the sound strained. He really wants this, wants to keep me, and to do that he has to refrain from going absolutely primal right now. He has to do anything to keep this quiet.

So he pushes me off of him, and I pout, thinking he's given up until we can get a true moment alone.

But I know that isn't the case when he spins his finger and then starts undoing his pants.

"Turn around, sweetheart," he huffs, slipping his pants and underwear down just enough that his erection emerges free. "You're gonna sit here, keep quiet, and keep my cock nice and warm, understood?"

Don't have to tell me twice... I'll fucking take what I can get.

So I spin, back up, and move all my clothing to the side, my skirt lifting as I nestle into Spencer's lap and hold my panties to the side. He laughs at my eagerness, though he isn't laughing much longer once I sink down onto him and get in real close. His hands come out to grab my chest and pull me flush against his own.

The way he stretches and fills me has my eyes rolling back, a long, happy sigh falling from my lips. I wish I could say I'm being dramatic about it, but I'm really not.

I'm genuinely relieved and satisfied with the burn.

"There's my girl," Spencer muses through a sigh of his own, his breath fanning gently over my neck right before he gives it an open-mouthed kiss.

His hands slip under the baggy sweater I'm wearing and run along the planes of my stomach, then up and up, taking the fabric with him until it rests above my bare chest. Being exposed like this, right in the middle of the living room while my mom is just upstairs, excites me more than I think it should.

While Spencer kisses and licks at my neck, his hands now gently kneading my breasts, I squirm.

He doesn't like that very much.

"Ah-ah," he warns, squeezing me tight and pulling me into him more. "Relax..."

He hooks his legs around mine then, spreading them apart and somehow filling me deeper. I whine, leaning my head back onto his shoulder and trying not to roll my hips.

Instead, I settle for clenching myself around him, and that seems to be the right move.

"Atta girl... Lay back and relax... Just feel me filling you up nice and slow..."

"Mmmm," I respond in kind as his hands loosen and glide down my body.

He's light with his touch, though the kisses on my neck feel hungry, and his cock feels heavy and thick inside me. It's a beautiful contrast, really, making me feel so full and yet so light, like I'm a raincloud.

Soon his fingers dip under my skirt and cover my hand, which is working at keeping my panties off to the side. He traces the curves of my fingers with his own, mumbling praises and scattering kisses along the side of my neck. And I'm distracted enough that I almost don't feel his other hand make gentle contact with my clit until I gasp from the sharp sensation.

I can feel his smile against my skin as he starts rubbing in slow, precise circles.

"That feel good, princess?"

"Uh huh," I breathe out, trying to keep still. My other hand digs into my knee in hopes that I can stay grounded and focused on keeping still. But despite that, I'm feeling rather calm. Satisfied...

Right where he wants me.

"Mmm..." He hums happily into my skin, continuing to kiss my neck while working my clit.

And I have no idea how long we lay there. It feels like it could be hours.

The TV is on, but we're not paying any attention to it. In the back of my mind I know that Mom could be done with her bath at any minute, but it's been too long without Spencer inside me... And even though he's not actually fucking me, just having him this close and feeling him touch me, fill me, breathe me in...

God, I never want it to stop.

I'm almost on the verge of coming, but he removes his hand from me and slides them up my stomach again.

I whine at the loss of orgasm, but he pays it no mind. "Here's what you're gonna do. You're gonna start moving..."

I start to get excited, wiggling in his lap a little.

With a dark laugh, he brings his hands to my breasts, kneading them gently and nipping my earlobe. Getting my attention...

"But you're not gonna stop until I fill that slutty little cunt with my cum, got it? I don't care if you come more than once. I don't care if you come at all... I don't care if your mom comes down here and sees..."

I swear I almost come on the spot from his words alone.

And then his voice is somehow even darker, seeping through my skin and settling into the very deepest parts of me.

"You will not stop until you make me come, am I clear?"

I wouldn't deny him if I could. I'm so damn whipped by this man, so eager to please and be near him that he could ask me to do any fucking thing on the planet and I would.

My rational brain might have second-guessed that feeling if it hadn't been horny as fuck...

And so I get to it, maneuvering my hips and working Spencer's cock like my life depends on it. And honestly, it kind of does, because if my mother comes down and catches us I'm dead.

Despite the urgency, though, I relish every second of it. I try to remember every sensation vividly because I don't know when I'll get to feel it again. So every time I sit back down on his dick, I clench it on the way up, because I know that drives him wild and it also means I get to feel him grab me tighter.

I can't see him, not even really when I turn my head, but I can picture how he's probably biting his lip, trying not to be loud. His eyes are probably shooting daggers at the ceiling, praying to the heavens above that my mom won't come down.

But it looks like the heavens above have decided to damn us to hell.

That unmistakable sound of the drain in the tub rumbles through the ceiling and down the inside of the walls as the water travels through the pipes, and my heartbeat races faster than it ever has.

Spencer tugs my hair then, pulling my head to meet his shoulder once more. "You better hurry, little girl..."

That's when I finally come. My cunt throbs and shakes around him as I bounce as quietly as I can. His grip in my hair is tighter, urging me to keep going, and the sharp sensation seems to extend my orgasm a little.

I whimper and whine as I feel it, and that seems to be what does him in.

"Fuck, Y/N, that's it... That's my girl..."

Four more bounces from me is all it takes, and then he's holding my hips in place. He grunts as quietly as possible into my shoulder and fucks into me slowly, filling me to the brim with his cum and breathing harshly into my skin.

I can hear Mom walking around upstairs, most likely getting dressed, which means she'll be down any minute...

"Time to get up, princess," Spencer whispers a moment later, letting go of my hips.

I turn my head into his neck, whining. "I don'wanna..."

"I know, I know... But you have to."

I know he's right. But I can't just get up and lose him so quickly. I want to hold on for as long as possible.

So I tilt my head up and bring his lips to mine. Thankfully he doesn't reject me, instead returning my affections and sighing into my mouth. He's still sheathed inside me, and I can feel his cum very slowly starting to drip down.

I have to get up now...

My mouth reluctantly parts from his and pouts. I expect him to return it with a sad smile, but his lips are rather mischievous.

He smirks, lifting me off of him and quickly pulling my panties back in place. His cum instantly soaks into the thin, lavender fabric, and it only reminds me of his absence.

But then Spencer spins me around on the heels of my feet and presses his hand firmly to my clothed, sopping wet cunt under my skirt, rubbing it in and making me whimper out at the overstimulation.

"I missed you," he whispers sincerely. Sweetly...

I can't help but smile as I lean down to kiss him one more time.

"I missed you, too."

JULY 23rd

I've been looking forward to this weekend since Mom brought it up after her bath—A call from work. A weekend business trip across the country.

She would be gone for almost a whole week.

Spencer's already started on his coursework for the next school year so he'll be busy most days, but at night? That's when he's all mine.

The only hard part about this, really, is containing my excitement. Just yesterday Spencer got me alone and warned me that I better keep my cool and be patient. Though, the way he said it was hardly a bad thing considering it gave me an excuse to feel his hands on me, even in the laundry room where, more or less, this had all started.

Even now I can still feel their warmth and their heft as they grope and paw at my breasts while he attacks my neck with sloppy kisses.

But right now he's not here, and as much as I can't wait to spend the week with him, my mom is also going to be gone for that long.

Just because I'm fucking her boyfriend on a regular basis doesn't mean I don't still love her.

Though, the thought of it all makes me a little uneasy—I don't know what the future holds. I know Spencer obviously cares about my mom, but if it really gets to a point where they've been together long enough, would he ever marry her?

And then what?

It's one thing for him to be my mom's boyfriend, who doesn't live here and only stays when he can... But it's a whole other one to be my stepfather. And what if my mom wants to have another kid?

No.

I'm not even going to think about it... If it ever gets to that point, then we'll deal with it, but right now I've only known Spencer for nearly 2 months, and it's way too soon to be thinking about any of that right now.

"You gonna be alright without me for a week?"

I curl into Mom's side, laughing and thankful for her distraction. "I spend almost a whole year away at college without you, I think I can survive five days."

"Ugh, don't remind me. I wish you could just stay here with me forever."

"Ha, no you don't. I'm a menace."

"Only when you eat all my food and then complain that you're starving..."

My eyes roll affectionately. "Mom. That was one time, and I was fifteen and dramatic."

She kisses the top of my head and then rests her chin on it. "Then my point stands... You were only a menace when you were fifteen. Now you're an angel."

I can tell she's sincere, and when I tell her Thank you, it feels incredibly deceitful—Especially when she starts humming my favorite song and brushing through my hair with her fingers, just like she used to do to get me to sleep as a kid. The foggy feeling it sends through my bloodstream reminds me that I'm definitely not the same person I was back then.

Although, it is true that some things never change, and within minutes I'm soundly asleep in my mother's arms.

———

When Spencer and I are sending her off at the airport the next morning, my heart thrums wildly in my chest.

"You have Spencer's number in case of an emergency?" she asks me in a haste.

"Yes, Mom. For the thousandth time, I have his number, and I have Grandma's number, and I have just about every other number you've ever given me for emergency contacts."

She gives me The Look.

"Yes, I have it. And I'll be okay. I love you."

"Oh, I love you, too," she says, pulling me in for one last breath-reducing hug, though, that's not truly what knocks the breath from my lungs.

She goes to Spencer next, reaching up to give him a goodbye kiss. I'm expecting it. I'm okay with it.

But this is unlike any other kiss I've seen them share, and it admittedly makes me jealous.

Spencer almost has her off the ground, pressing her close to him and kissing her deeply. Her hands weave through his hair as he tilts his head, and this time I can see his tongue slip into her mouth.

"O—kaaay, my eyes are burning... Thank you for that..."

I know I can get away with that because it's a completely normal reaction to seeing your mother make out with anyone, so I don't feel bad about it one bit. And I especially don't feel bad about the warning look he gives me over my mom's shoulder when she comes to give me another hug.

But then she's gone, and minutes later we're leaving the airport parking lot, and I can't seem to shake my jealousy. Even when his hand rests politely on my knee.

The whole way home I only barely acknowledge his presence, giving him half-hearted smiles and remaining mostly still when he glides his hand higher up my leg. By the time his fingers slip under the hem of my skirt, I think he knows something is up, because it stops there.

He waits until we get in the house to bring it up.

"Y/N, are you okay?"

I plop myself down on the couch with an overexaggerated sigh. "Kinda..."

I know Spencer used to be a profiler, and really, it's not that hard to figure out what's wrong with me. But it's still a little scary how easily he just knows.

"You know I had to," he says, walking over and standing in front of me. "Keeping up appearances and whatnot."

He's right. And it's a consequence of what we've decided to do, so really I'm in no place to complain.

Still, I reach out and pull him in by the belt loops, leaning my face in rather close to his crotch. "You know... Actually, I think you just like making me jealous..."

The smile that dances over his lips is amused and downright sinful. "Oh?"

"Mhmm," I drawl, sliding my hands to the front of his pants and rubbing him through the fabric.

He laughs. "Yeah, you are pretty cute when you're all huffy."

With big eyes and a fluttering in my stomach at the way he looks down at me, I feel that pressing of jealousy start to lift off my chest. I know that within an hour he'll have me pinned under his body somehow, and the thought allows my response to come out clearly and without question.

"So how are you gonna make it up to me?"

———

We're already out of our clothes by the time we make it upstairs. And when we finally get into my bedroom, I'm about to shut the door and then Spencer stops me.

"No one's home, sweetheart... Leave it open."

He takes two steps and has me in his arms, his hands sliding down my back and resting over my ass. And when he gives it a squeeze, he grins down at me. "You're gonna be loud for me, understand?"

"Hey, that's on you," I tease, wiggling against him. "You want me loud? Make me loud."

His grip on my ass gets tighter as he pulls me closer, and I yelp out. "Don't challenge me, little girl... You'll regret it."

I laugh then, calling back to his earlier statement. "Aw... You're pretty cute when you're all huffy..."

"Alright, fine."

The next thing I know, I'm on my knees, and his hands are rooting in my hair. The rough carpet underneath me already burns, but I know in the end it's gonna be so worth it.

Spencer brings me close to his exposed crotch and tilts my head up to look at him. "I'm gonna fuck that attitude right out of your pretty little mouth, got it? And you're not gonna do a damn thing but take it like a good girl."

I would have asked him if that was a threat or a promise if he hadn't immediately shoved his dick in my mouth. It has me wet in an instant, the way he just pulls me onto him and starts fucking my face with an urgency that seems to contradict all the time we have. He needs me now, with no time for teasing or pleasantries, and I fucking love it.

Which is why I do as I'm told, enjoying every second as he holds my head still and snaps his hips forward, his velvety smooth cock gliding over my tongue and down my throat with ease. It doesn't take long for my eyes to water, my vision going blurry and my body growing hot. My face is angled straight ahead, but I still find a way to look up at him, and from this low angle?

It's the best thing I've ever seen.

No matter how many times I've been on my knees like this, staring up at Spencer as he loses himself at my hands (or rather my mouth, if you want to get technical), I swear I could never tire of it.

His eyes are glaring down at me as he concentrates, his arms are out in front of me as they hold my head in place, and his pubic bone and sculpted hips are right there, moving ferociously in front of my eyes. He's so deep in my throat for a few seconds, holding me down while I gag around him, that my nose is buried in the soft trail of hair that gathers on his skin, and I want to stay there forever.

But my gag reflex isn't much durable for more than fifteen seconds, much less forever, so I have to pull back.

Spencer pulls me off of him completely, a trail of spit following my lips and then detaching until it lands along my chin. I blink away some of the tears that had gathered in my eyes and pout up at him.

"What's the matter, sweetheart?"

"You're supposed to be making it up to me..." My voice is scratchy and a little hoarse now, but I know it'll probably be worse if Spencer really thinks he can make me as loud as he says (which I truly don't doubt for a second).

He tugs me up by the hair, and I whine as I get to my feet, my knees aching already. And then his mouth is on my cheek, gently kissing away a tear. "Aw, I thought you liked having my dick in your mouth..."

"I do..."I giggled a little, nestling into his body and feeling his erection, now slick with my saliva, press up against the inside of my thigh. "But I like it better in other places..."

"Mmm, you're right... I do, too..."

I certainly hadn't been expecting that answer.

But it doesn't surprise me when he walks us over to the foot of my bed and pushes me onto it. "Hands and knees, princess."

My knees still burn from the carpet, and I'm sure this squeaky-ass mattress won't alleviate the pain at all, but if there's one thing I've learned since having sex with Spencer it's that pain is all part of the pleasure.

So I don't question it. My limbs submit to his simple command, and once I turn away from him and perch myself on my hands and knees, I can feel him climbing on the bed and crawling up the backside of my body. His hands roam my ass and my waist, and within seconds he has his cock nestled against me.

He moves nice and slow at first, dragging the length of him through my slick cunt and ghosting the skin of my backside with his hands.

"Remember... Nice and loud, okay? Wanna hear how good I make you feel."

Like I could ever deny him. Even though I like to tease him and push his buttons, I couldn't think of a single thing in the moment that I'd ever deny him.

So he finally pushes into me, stretching me out well and good, and a low groan slowly rolls off my tongue like a waterfall. And I'm not doing it for his sake; It's like he draws it out of me like a syringe, and I'm utterly powerless against it... Against him.

Like I need a metaphor to explain how I'm well and truly his bitch...

"There she is..." Spencer breathes, reaching the very deepest part of me and staying there. "There's my obedient little girl... Tell me what you want."

I turn my head to get as good of a look at him as I can, and give him the pout to end all pouts. "I want you to fuck me, hard... Please?"

His answer is a gentle push forward, his body leaning over mine to take my hands and pin them behind my back, which pulls me up towards him so that my back is nearly flush with his chest. His hands are so big that one of them is able to hold both of my wrists while the other gathers my hair and tugs.

I feel like I'm being held by a bungee cord, especially when Spencer starts snapping his hips and pounding into me roughly. My knees are pushing into the springs of the mattress and lifting again with each thrust, and I can't help the stream of whimpers and shouts that escape me at the whole experience.

He lets go of my hair in favor of reaching around and palming my left tit, his pace never faltering for a second. Everything he's doing is precise and swift and so fucking good that my eyes can hardly stay open.

"I'm hearing you, pretty girl, but I don't think you're quite loud enough..." he grumbles in my ear, letting go of me and gently pushing me back down on the bed. He slips out of me and I whine at the loss, but I don't have to worry about it much longer when I feel him lay down over top of me and slam into me hard.

I yelp out, my hands reaching out and clutching the comforter for dear life. Spencer's hands, meanwhile, push up off the mattress on either side of my hips to lift himself up, and then he's grabbing my waist and pushing me into it while he fucks me.

When I instinctively shove my face down and try to muffle myself, though, one of his hands leaves my waist and comes up to tug my hair, pulling my head up. His hips pause, pressed deep into my backside, and I can feel how he's struggling to keep still.

"Uh-uh... No one's home, princess... Let it all out..."

He pulls back and plows into me again, and this time his pace is frustratingly slow. With each slam forward my voice grows louder, begging him for more with incoherence until I start to feel myself grow tense with pleasure.

"You're almost there, baby, I can feel it," Spencer breathes. His voice is far away, and I wish he was closer, his breath on my neck and his lips not far behind. But for now I gladly settle for his hands, tight and bruising on my hips, and the force of his pelvis as it collides brutally and wonderfully with my ass.

What finally brings me sweet release is the sound of him grunting out one word. A command. And once again it's like I'm powerless under his spell.

"Come."

I do, and he fucks me thoroughly through each wave. Even once I've finished, he chases his own orgasm for minutes.

By the sounds he's making and the way his hips falter here and there, I can tell he's close, but he wants to make it last. I want to tell him that we have all weekend, to maybe tease him a bit, but I'm so fucked out and incoherent that I couldn't have said a single word if I tried.

So I lay there and take it with a weary smile on my face, ever the whiny, whimpering mess that I am, and patiently wait for the moment he decides to let go.

And when he does, it's the most glorious feeling in the world. I'm tired, yes, but never tired enough to lift myself and wiggle my ass back into him, clenching myself around him and relishing in the way he grunts out my name. He empties himself into me, and I hum, positively satisfied and warm.

Before I know it, I'm sinking down within the comfort of my blankets, and I rest my head in my arms, the pillow still a little too far out of reach. And though I'm content, I still whine out sadly when Spencer retreats and leaves me feeling empty.

I'm about to tell him to get over here and cuddle me when I feel his weight redistribute, and it isn't long before he has his head between my legs, his tongue acting as a net for the cum that drips out of me. He barely touches me, only the tiniest of flicks with the tip of his tongue darting over my skin. I can't tell if I'm thankful because of the relief or if I want the burn to go on forever.

In the end, I don't really have a choice.

He pushes his tongue up, sweeping over my dripping cunt and cleaning me up. Suddenly his mouth is everywhere, making the most delicious sounds and bringing me closer to another orgasm, and all I can do is let it happen. My weary smile is joined by a fluttering pair of eyelids and a string of whimpers that are so small they don't dare drown out the words Spencer is grumbling between my legs.

Some of which, I can hear, sound out, "Another one..."

His finger adds to the mix, coming up and rubbing my clit in tight circles as he finishes cleaning up the mess he made, and within seconds I'm a writhing mess at his undoing.

I'm not sure how long it lasts, only that one second I'm tensing with another orgasm and the next I'm having my limbs moved.

Spencer is beside me in an instant, his face coming into view as I feel my breathing slow to a steadier pace. The longer I wait, the more focused I am on his features, soft and even a little concerned as he strokes some of the hair from my face.

"How are you feeling?"

The smile that beams across my face is just about the most natural thing I'd ever felt. And it seems to bring out those bright glints of adoration in his eyes that only ever serve to make my heart flutter, which makes what I tell him even more true.

"I'm happy."

JULY 27th

Waking up to Spencer next to me, while a daily occurrence these past few days, is still possibly the most surprising and comforting feeling in the world.

Our bodies never part. From the moment we lay down to sleep until the moment we wake up and decide it's time to start doing necessary daily things, not one inch of skin is untouched. Even when showering.

I think back to yesterday morning, where he dragged me out of bed because he had to pee and didn't want to leave me. I was slumped over the backside of his body while he went and then in his arms again while he ran us a shower to wake up.

It brings the widest smile to my face, however sleepy it may also be.

"What are you smiling for?"

I squint one eye open and see that Spencer is staring at me. I hadn't expected him to be awake.

"Just thinking about yesterday..."

He tightens his grip on my waist and pulls me even closer, my face instantly drawn to the crook of his neck. "Mmm," he hums as I nestle in and press a sleepy kiss to the bare skin at the column of his throat. "Which part?"

"Our shower."

I feel his thumb then, rubbing back and forth over my hip as clearly as I can feel him smile against the top of my head. "That was fun, wasn't it..."

"Mhmm," I agree. My lightly tongue traces over his collarbone before I kiss it again. "Our shower is much better equipped for sex than yours."

"So... What you're saying is that shower sex is out of the question this morning?" he confirms with a laugh.

"That's exactly what I'm saying..."

"Well then, princess, what uhh... What alternatives do you think we should try out?"

I start to laugh when he pulls my leg up over his waist and hoists me over on top of him. My face remains buried into his neck, though I trail my lips up and up until I reach his jaw.

"Hmm... What if I just ride you and see where it takes us?"

When my lips finally reach his cheek, Spencer shifts and captures them in a long, butterfly-inducing kiss before pulling away with a smile and brushing the hair from my face. "I think that sounds like a wonderful idea."

It helps that I can already feel him hardening beneath me, and from the moment I felt his hands on me, I'd been aroused.

Though, as soon as I line him up and get ready to start our morning the right way, his phone rings on the bedside table. I'm tempted to keep going, but he half pushes me off of him when he reaches and reads the name.

"It's your mom."

That instantly kills my mood.

With a dramatic sigh and a pout, I hop off of him and curl up under the covers, letting him answer.

"Good morning," he chirps rather happily, and I try not to imagine my moms smile on the other end of the line. Thankfully I can't hear her, but I can still see Spencer smiling as he greets her and goes through all the pleasantries that come with a long distance relationship; I miss yous and how are yous...

I wonder if he really does miss her. He must, at least a little, right?

I'm staring straight ahead now, picking at my nails while I wait for them to finish talking, but something feels off.

I can feel Spencer's eyes on me.

But then he asks, "What are you wearing?" through the phone with a voice so playful and seductive, and I snap my head around, glaring at him.

"Really?" I mouth.

The smirk on his face makes me want to chuck his phone across the room.

"Mmm," he hums, looking me dead in the eye. And the next time he speaks, I swear he's talking directly to me. "Why don't you take it off... I want to talk you through some things..."

I know my mom is hearing the roughness in his voice through the phone, but right now I can see his eyes, hungry as they rake over my body once I slowly peel the blanket away and reveal myself to him, and I know that his main goal isn't to get my mom off.

It's to finish what we started before she'd interrupted.

"Touch yourself for me, baby? Nice and slow. Just relax..."

He softly crawls over to me, keeping the phone to his ear with one hand while the other takes my knees and spreads them apart.

I start to touch myself as instructed, but he swats my hand away and winks, nestling between my legs. I lean up on my elbows and tilt my head, wondering where he's going with this, when he leans his other cheek into my thigh.

"You know what I'd do to you right now If I was there?" A small pause. And then, "I'd use my fingers to slowly stretch you open... Feel you contract around me..."

His fingers do exactly like he says, and I have to stop myself from making any sound. The evil grin growing on his face as he does it all makes it even harder.

"I'd finger-fuck you nice and slow," he continues in a voice just above a whisper. "Until you're begging me for more."

When his eyes meet mine, once more I want to lean forward, snatch his phone, and smash it on the floor. I want him to utterly devour me, without any interruptions or avoidances at getting caught.

But he's such a fucking tease.

Mom must be talking on the other end, because Spencer is silent, slowly fucking me with his fingers and watching them intently as they disappear inside me. Entranced... The thought of her speaking to him and holding his attention makes me jealous— Sure, he's fucking me right now, but really, she's the one calling the shots.

I lean my head back in frustration, letting out the tiniest of whines and grinding my hips up into his hand, hoping and pleading for more.

A low laugh leaves him. "Please, what?"

It's not lost on me that my mom must have asked for more from him at the same time I did... It cements just how absolutely fucked this whole situation is, and yet I can't help but clench around his fingers in earnest, silently pleading with him to go on.

He removes his fingers from me and I sigh out, trying not to disrupt their call.

"And... How would you like me to fuck you?" he asks, looking at me with an evil grin and knowing damn well I can't actually answer.

After he gets her answer, he climbs up on his knees and spreads my legs further, throwing one of them up on his shoulder while he leaves the other on the bed. Since he only has one hand to work with, he gestures to it and I help him out, lifting my other leg up to my chest and holding it with one arm to let him get inside at a good angle.

"Yeah, and how do you want it, baby?" He lines himself up with me and very slowly sinks the head of his cock in, holding it and running his hand along my stomach. "I'm thinking... I'd like to fuck you so slow you're practically writhing beneath me..."

I stick my tongue out at him, and then without warning he slams into me. I bring a hand to my mouth and bite down on my finger, trying not to make a sound.

"You're gonna be patient... And you're gonna let me take my time... Until you're nice and desperate... Whining out for me like a good little whore..."

Each sentence is punctuated with another thrust, hard and deep, followed by a short pause, and it's all I can do not to cry out his name and beg him to go faster.

Mom must be talking on the line again, because Spencer doesn't say a word as he fucks me. His pace doesn't pick up or slow, and his own self control starts to recede—I can see it in his features. I can also feel it in the way his free hand grips my leg. He wants to go faster, he wants to lose control, and this is killing him just as much as it's killing me.

But then he pants into the phone, his voice breaking a little as he pauses and rolls his hips into me, slow and burning. I whine into my hand as quietly as possible, and he asks the question that will seal my fate.

"Where do you want it?"

I wait, clenching around him and praying for the result I want.

And then he laughs. "Yeah? You like when I paint you with my cum, huh?"

I shake my head, silently begging him to resist and stay inside me, but he only shrugs as if to say, Sorry about your luck, and then pulls out, leaving me whiny and desperate.

Just like he said.

And then, he comes all over me, stroking himself fast and hard. Even though I've still yet to feel any sort of relief, seeing him in front of me like this, feeling his warmth dance across my skin in warm spurts, and hearing him groan out as he watches my body gladly accept it all...

It's quite honestly the most satisfying thing I've ever seen.

I can't say I'm not happy, though, when he slumps down and pants, sighing out a few goodbyes to my mom and then tossing his phone on the floor when she hangs up.

He smiles at me then, and I pout.

"You're evil..."

"Mmm, you love it," he drawls, leaning down and starting to dart his tongue over the mess he made on my stomach. Meanwhile his finger finds its way inside me again, and I feel myself start to turn into a writhing mess once more.

And he's right.

I do love it.

JULY 29th

Approaching the front door with Mom in step behind me, knowing that Spencer awaits for her on the other side isn't what makes my heart jump out of my chest.

It's the look on both of their faces when they see each other.

Though I push Mom forward to go see him, it nearly breaks me seeing her run into his arms. He picks her up and spins her around, reminiscent of their little moment at the airport, and the pure happiness on her face specifically makes my stomach twist.

This time it isn't jealousy.

It's guilt.

She's... incredibly happy. I don't think I've ever seen her this happy before. She's positively beaming as she hugs him tight and buries her face into his chest.

And when he looks past her head and looks over at me, I feel it.

The heartache.

Spencer's eyes burn holes into my own, and fill them with a sympathy that makes me feel more wounded than comforted.

I wonder then if he can see it on my face; The way I'm trying not to break down and cry... The way I'm only holding myself together by the weak smile I'm wearing, both to assure him that I'm fine and also to feign happiness for my mother, rather than the aching envy and sadness that festers within every crevice of my soul.

I offer to grab more of Mom's things from the car and dart right back out the door to avoid them for a little while. Maybe to also get some fresh air, even though I'd just been outside less than a minute ago.

After flinging open the trunk of the car, I take a deep breath and squeeze my eyes shut, feeling my chest start to tighten at the realization that I might be starting to fall in love with him.

A man who isn't mine, and who could never be.

———

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[citrinesparkles]

cat.

jason todd, eventually x gender neutral reader. 1,388 words. notes: this is part one of i don't even know how many and i cannot believe how wildly out of hand this got. this was a 500 word idea and it's gonna be at least three parts someone help (thanks to @angelz-dust for being so patient with me and encouraging on this!!! would never have made it out of the drafts without you <3) warnings: danger to kids, mention of a couple arguing, animal illness (spoiler alert: it'll be fine i Promise), a little (lot) different than my usual edit: part two here!

"let me be perfectly clear: if you even think about showing back up here, i will know, and i will make your life a living hell until i finally put you out of your misery. understood?"

"yes! yeah man i get it. understood."

"then i'd get going, if i were you." the man scrambled to his feet and bolted off across the playground, leaving jason to shout after him. "and warn any buddies you might have, too!"

he picked up the discarded knife and pocketed it. he then turned around slowly, hands visibly empty in a careful attempt not to scare the two kids behind him- well, careful not to make it worse, anyway. they, understandably, seemed a little shaken already.

"are you both alright?" he asked softly, slouching just a little to seem as harmless as possible.

probably would have been easier if they hadn't just watched him threaten someone.

the older kid- probably fifteen, if jason had to place a bet- nodded silently before glancing back at the little girl he was still hovering in front of protectively, who was just... staring.

she couldn't have been older than six.

"jazz?" the boy asked, voice tight. "are you hurt?"

he was ignored. "are you superman?"

the question, innocent and earnest and a little timid, made jason laugh. "not quite, kiddo."

she tilted her head like a curious puppy, furrowing her brow. "why are you wearing a jacket?"

jason glanced up at the boy, who seemed comforted by her mini interrogation. good.

talking was a good sign, too, so jason crouched down to meet her at eye level.

"because it gets cold out here!" he said, raising his hands up with a small wiggle of his fingers. "gloves, too."

"well, duh," jazz said with a giggle- a win, jason thought. "no fingerprints."

he nodded. "also helpful."

"and the hat to hide your face!" she said proudly, stepping forward a little to point at his helmet.

"wow, you've got the whole thing figured out, huh?"

"mhm! my friend ricky loves batman and his friends. he talks about batman and nightwing and spoiler and robin and red robin and red hood and batgirl all the time! they hide their faces like you, ricky thinks it's because of bad guys."

"they're kinda cool, huh?"

"nightwing's my favorite," she said firmly, as though it was something she had considered at great length and was fully prepared to defend.

"not red hood?" jason smacked a hand to his chest in mock hurt, shifting back dramatically. "i'm crushed, truly."

"no, ricky says red hood used to be an alien, but then got bored and now he annoys batman for fun instead. that sounds mean."

...well, okay, maybe he did annoy the big guy for fun a little. "that's an interesting theory, all right."

"ricky's got all kinds of theories. he thinks batman's a robot-" jason snorted- "and that nightwing was like pinochle."

"you mean pinocchio," the boy corrected quietly. "pinochle's what gramma plays."

"pinocchio!" she exlaimed, with a "ch" sound in the middle that made jason smile. "a doll that got turned human. that's how he does all the flips and stuff, he's got magic."

"hm, ricky seems like an interesting guy," jason said thoughtfully, making a big show of rubbing the chin of his helmet. "what do y-"

he was cut off by a loud, insistent meow, and jazz gasping even louder before taking off to the bushes.

"w- hey, don't rush off like that!" he said, shooting up off the ground as the boy sighed.

"there's this cat that she's been taking care of," he explained quietly. "the thing's got attitude for days but i think it's sick or something. jasmine's been bringing it little bits of tuna and chicken, but it's not like we can get it to a vet."

jason hummed. "why do you think it's sick?"

"it's thin, with its eyes all watery and sunk."

"might just be malnourished," he muttered.

"she's been trying to find it a home, y'know."

there was a wink-wink-nudge-nudge quality to the kid's voice that did not go unnoticed.

on one hand, it was good to hear something other than fear from him, but on the other... "what part of the tactical armor makes you think i'm an option?"

"the part where you just stuck around to check on us instead of running after that guy."

okay. maybe the quiet thing hadn't been so bad. the cocky 'amateur psychologist' thing was a little grating.

"you the real red hood?" the kid asked suddenly, shaking jason from his internal grumbling.

"what do you think?"

"i think you just saved our lives, and i wanna know who i'm thanking."

jason turned to him with a flourish. "red hood, baby saver extraordinaire. at your service."

"baby- dude, i'm seventeen!"

okay, so he would have lost his bet. "noted. still a baby, trust me."

"what are you under there, twenty something? whatever, grandpa."

jason chuckled, turning back to watch jasmine pet a small cat under one of the yellow lights littering the park. "you did well, looking out for her with that guy. you got a name?"

he scoffed. "would've been better if i'd kicked him between the legs right when he opened his mouth, instead of letting him get started on the whole 'what're you kids doing out so late?' bit," he muttered darkly, pausing for a moment before answering. "my name's jordan."

"well, jordan, what are you guys doing out so late?"

"mom works nights, and the neighbors were fighting. it was loud enough to wake jazz up, and it wasn't the kind of thing she needed to hear. i figured a trip to see her cat would be less awful than hearing them call each other things i wouldn't even call my friends." the breeze picked up, rustling the trees and catching on jason's jacket. "and then the asshole with the knife decided to make a bad night worse."

"is jazz your sister?"

"yeah, she's a good kid," jordan said, fond and warm. "sorry about the whole ricky thing, though. he's obsessed with those vigilante conspiracy videos and tells her all about them at school."

"no, no, it's fine. i can't wait to tell wing about his new origin story, he'll love that."

jasmine suddenly came bounding back towards them, grabbing their hands and yanking them to follow her. "c'mon, you need to meet cat!"

"you call it cat?"

jordan bristled subtly. "is there a problem with that, red?"

"no, no, it's an appropriate name. just making sure." jason waved his spare hand at his head. "helmet makes me hear things sometimes."

jordan opened his mouth, but his sister plowed right over whatever he was going to say, pulling on jason's hand again. "cat, meet... what's your name?"

"red hood."

"you can't be red hood!" she whirled around, indignantly putting her hands on her hips. "there's already a red hood in gotham. besides, you're not even wearing a hood, so it doesn't fit anyway."

jason turned his head to jordan, who was smiling- a good sign, but probably a bad omen for whatever he was about to say. "she's right, man. it's not a hood."

"tough crowd," jason muttered. "uh... then you can call me, uh-"

"bucket!" jasmine suggested happily, tapping his helmet. "because this looks like a bucket."

if there was one thing vigilantism had taught him, it was that sometimes you actually do need to pick your battles. this...

this was not worth fighting.

"sure, fine, whatever. hi, cat, i'm red bucket." he turned away from the kids- both of whom looked entirely too happy about the whole 'bucket' thing, he thought- and crouched down to finally look at the cat.

it did look a little sick, actually.

it was gray, and thin, and-

and now it was headbutting his knee like it was trying to push him over.

"cat likes you!" jazz cheered.

"sure does," jordan said pointedly. "isn't that interesting?"

jason opened his mouth, but his snarky comment died in his throat when the cat settled down right in front of him and blinked slowly up at him with a sweet tilt to its head.

...shit.

just- shit.

he sighed, standing up and looking back to jordan and his stupid, entirely-too-pleased-with-himself grin. "so, jazz," jason grumbled reluctantly, "where does cat live?"

[funnyexel]

Potential Yandere x Abused Fem!Reader

A/n: This is another drabble. I’ve been trying to pass it as a x reader story but I got severely stumped so I decided to still post it. (cause I feel like I did a fantastic job on it) If you squint, you could count this as yandere.

Summary: Basically, the story is about you running away from your twisted household (controlled by your step-mother) to get away from her, as you were escaping you get kidnapped. You soon find out it was your “dead” husband, your step-mother arranged you to marry for money and soon after killed him because he was trying to help your situation. Now he is bent on protecting you and getting “even” with your step-mom...any means necessary.

Warnings: Scars, Mentions of death, Mentions of abuse, Trauma, Slight smut, Mushy stuff. Masterlist Mega List

You ran away. You just couldn't take it anymore. The loneliness and the abuse was killing you from the inside out. Tears burn in your eyes and stain your cheeks. Now caught up in yourself, you neglect to realize the hand over your mouth. "Finally." You managed to let out a few muffled screams before you completely knocked out.

"No one will want a fat, stuck up brat! 20 more!" "Yes, Mother."

Transitioning from low breaths, you awake breathing heavily. "GET OUT!" You flinch at the sudden noise and clashing of objects. The somewhat familiar male voice sighs. You try to shift the bag off your head but fail. "oh right the bag." He snatches the bag off your head. Your head whips to the side, tears smoothly fall down your face. He forces your face to see his. "p-please-" The tears in your eyes wash away and you can see a clear picture of the male. He caresses your cheek. "Y/n~ It's been a while." He holds the back of his neck.

Slowly jerking your head back. You try and gather your emotions. 'Do I want to hit him or kiss him?' You thought. "I missed you." You keep your gaze with him. Blood rushes to your face without your consent. "I guess you didn't miss me.." He falsely pouts. "I did." You whisper. He smiles. "Get off the floor." You get up and realize that you had your hands behind your back for nothing. Looking him up and down, you analyze his tall and muscular nature. Wanting to run up to him and kiss him. You decide to hold back. The thought of him suffering from the lost of touch is funny to you.

Just like how you both were when you were younger. You finally ignore your thoughts and listen to your aching body. Legs trembling, you trip over your weak feet before you could faceplant, he catches you. 'Oh right. Prince Charming waited 3 long years to get me.' Now remembering the horrible memories. He lays you down on a couch and removes your clothes to unveil your undergarments. He uses a med-kit to patch you up. "Your scars have gotten worse." He looks up to you slightly. You look away from him. "Stop staring at me like that."

He chuckles at your annoyance. "Are you hungry?" He briefly stops bandaging you to give you a tray of food. "Eat. If you're hungry tell me. Don't sit here starving yourself." You eat little by little enjoying the food. He moves from your legs to your arms. "What happened to your ring?" He examines your left hand kissing it softly. "I still have it." You reach into the side of your bra and take out the ring dangling on a chain. "Who gave you that chain?" He finished patching you up. Given your silence, he knows where it's from. 

He reaches for your hand to retrieve the chain and take the ring. "I do not want you to have anyone else's stuff but mine." He puts the chain on the table. "You're unusually quiet." You turn away. "W-where have you been for three years?" You glide your hand over his tattoos and bold muscles. He gently takes your left hand and holds it in his, to place the ring on your ring finger. "Trying to get you." He kisses the ring and clutches onto your hand. "I-I thought...y-you w-were...I s-saw."

Tears stream down your face unexpectedly with the whirlpool of emotions. "Dead." You couldn't hold yourself back from his touch anymore. You launched yourself into his arms and fit into his lap perfectly. He softly whispered reassuring little nothings in your ear. His voice soothes your uneasy state. "You'll be safe with me. I promise to you that you will never go back, ever." You clench onto him harder, making small marks into his skin through his clothes.

"I-I need- have um-" You stutter causing your cheeks to heat up. He rubs your shoulder as a comforting gesture. "I...I've realized, over the time apart and grieving. That I-" You choke on your unspoken words but manifest the strength to hold his cheek and gaze deep into his eyes. "I love you. I thought that I realized too late and looking at this second chance. I was second guessing whether to tell you or not. But I wanted you to know." Slowly leaning in, a half a breath from his lips.

You close the gap, placing your soft lips on his and sluggishly parting your lips. 'His eyes are closed.' You thought studying his facial features. Whilst tracing your slender fingers over his godly jaw line. He got casted out of your trance, pulling your waist into his. Thirstily matching his lips up with yours. You felt déjà vu and a stinging sensation on your thigh. But it wasn't painful, it could never be painful from him. It was a stinging of coldness turning warm from your touch.

Your bottom lip felt wet. Very wet. He was asking for permission to your wonderful mouth. You opened your mouth for him without a second thought. Feeling his heavy palm trailing from your waist smoothly to your neck. Gripping hard but soft never wanting to let go. Your body shifted to straddling him and your hand stopped awkwardly waving in the air and rubbed along the hand holding your thigh. Applying warmth to his upper arm and bicep. You moan breaking the kiss, throwing your head back due to his icy touch up your back. You stare at each other, breathing heavily. "I love you too." He says between deep inhales and exhales. "You're always so warm." He buries his head in your shoulder, both his hands covering your back. "And you’re always so cold." You chuckle and shiver under his touch. Rapidly blushing, realizing you're only in your panties and bra.

You wiggle in his lap trying to reach a piece of clothing. But he holds you down with his heavenly grip. He lifts his head from your shoulder, blush lightly dusting his face. "Are you trying to get something out of me?" His muscular voice echoes in and out your ear. You hesitantly shake your head. Thinking about what he said you notice your sitting near his groin. He moves his hands around your back attempting to capture all your warmth. "Shirt." You gaze into his night black eyes.

A sweater is draped on your back with little to no movement. He sits up and puts your arms through the sleeves, then zipping up the sweater. Shivering at the new warmth, he places a kiss on your nose then mouth. You smile and touch your nose. He lifts you off his lap and onto the couch. "Stay in here. I'll be back." He gets up and looks over himself in the mirror. Seeing you staring at him from the couch with a slight pout. "Don't let anyone see those pretty panties."

Never taking your eyes off him, your cheeks redden and you push down the sweater to cover your underwear. He snickers at your actions, swiftly leaving the room. Your eye falls back to the mirror. 'This is really happening.' You thought. One song was replaying in your head, sex by eden but only one particular part of the song. 'Oh no, I think I'm catching feelings.' And you know you already told him you love him but it felt like you were catching feelings all over again. The statement from the man became distant as time passes by, or you became very bored very fast. Either way you got up from the couch, wobbling on your feet. You stare at yourself through the mirror. Dark circles having a long term stay underneath your eyes, big lips being temporarily present on your face, light hickeys being displayed on your lower chin and neck, and light tears burned into your cheeks. You rub away the tear marks with the oversized sleeve.

His sweater was sizeable to your body. It hugged your body perfectly but all the while drowning you in the sweater. Doing some more walking around. You come across a nicely framed photo of you and him. You remembered that like it was taken yesterday, if you recall correctly his sister took that picture. You were sitting in his lap, assembling a puzzle together but he was getting frustrated so you decided to take over. You laugh at the bubbly memory.

'I look so focus on the puzzle meanwhile he buried his face in my hair.' You slightly blush and put the picture back. You go to his desk and sit in his chair. "woaah~ this chair is so comfortable." You lie back into the chair and spin it, making sure not to mess up anything on his desk. "how long is he going to take?" You groan feeling extremely lonely. Listening closely, you hear the sound of a train, the speedy move of the train smoothly moving on the noisy tracks. As if they hit a bump on the track your body falls out the chair.

You turn over rubbing your knees. Multiple footsteps meet your ear range. Looking around, you quickly crawl underneath the desk slightly hitting your head on the way in. "ouch." And a squeal leaves your mouth before they busted in the room. "If this is just your bad hearing, we're gonna be in a lot of trouble." A strong woman voice exclaims. "I heard something fall. I swear." A male croaked back to the female. "Everything in here is bolted to the floor. Get out his office before he catches you." Someone chimes in and the footsteps fade out the room.

You left out a shaky breath and rub your head. 'I'll just stay under here.' You thought to yourself and nodded. In silence, you thought about what you would do about your still existing problems at your old home. Even though, you wanted to forget. You couldn't risk him getting hurt or worse. "Hey, where are you?" His voice pulls you out of your thoughts. You knock on the inside of the desk and his footsteps approach you. He crouches down and looks at you curled up into a ball under the desk.

"what are you doing under here?" His soft tone flutters your heart and blesses you ears. As he extends his hand you eagerly take it and he pulls you out the dark space. He guides you to the couch and sits you down. "Here." He hands you black leggings. Getting up, you put on the pants and look up to him. "Promise." His hands meet your waist and lightly rubbed the sides. "Promise, what?" He chuckles looking down to you. "Promise you won't get killed."

You stare at him with solid eyes and spoke with a serious tone. "I promise to you I won't get killed." He matches your tone. "Pinky promise." You hold out a pinky and wait for him to meet your request. He smirks and holds your pinky with his. Shaking it twice. You let go and hug him, burying your face into his mid-chest. His well built arms circle around you, engulfing you in his body. You stay there until you begin to lose breath. "Accept my promise."

He smiles at you, before you could have a valid reaction, he traps you into a powerful kiss. Pulling your body closer and closer to his. All the while your hands travel to his neck, into his soft dark hair. The kiss was better than before, unrealistic at most. His tongue immediately got access to your mouth, exploring it and violating it. He slowly broke the kiss to trail them down to your neck. You huffed and moaned. Minimally visible air puffs leaving your mouth. He found your sweet spot and kissed it as deeply as he kissed your plump lips. Your lowly moans echoed the office, he gripped your chin and moved it to the side to get more access to your neck. His actions hit a sudden stop, he lifts up his head and plants a peck on your lips. He made you weak in the knees. And by the looks of it you made him the same way. He sat on the couch and patted his leg. You felt like sitting too but held off, to look in the mirror. 

A dark mark visible to the naked eye, was made by him on your neck. You traced your fingers over it in admiration. Your heart skipped a beat and your eyes sparkled. His marks did that special thing to you that you couldn't explain even if you tried. Turning back to him you, sit on his lap and rest your head on his shoulder.

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

By My Side (Part 6)

Summary: The reader and Jensen discuss their relationship moving forward while Jensen learns more about the reader’s family situation. He still has a bad feeling about something though and his gut may prove to be right...

Masterlist

Pairing: Bodyguard!Jensen x reader

Word Count: 5,700ish

Warnings: language, angst, mention of prior suicide attempt, minor violence

A/N: Enjoy!

_________

You woke up to Jensen bundled up in bed, covers tugged to his chin as he sleepily watched you stretching in bed. You giggled at him and his bed head, rolling closer and kissing him good morning.

“That is the most adorable thing I’ve ever seen in my life,” you said.

“Obviously you don’t look at the mirror much,” he said. You smiled and he reached his arm under the covers, putting a hand on your waist. You scooted over, Jensen blinking slowly. “We need to talk about this.”

“Talk about what?�� you asked. He bopped your nose and you smiled, tucking down into the sheets. 

“Do you want a relationship?” he asked.

“Do you?”

“It would make my job...difficult.”

“Oh.”

“Not impossible. Just difficult.”

“Is it any more difficult than it was? I mean honestly. What’ll have changed? You still keep me safe and I still hide and run if you say so.”

“That part hasn’t changed. But there is something that has. A wildcard factor. Wildcard factors aren’t great in this job.”

“What’s a wildcard?”

“In a dangerous situation, if we were in a relationship, there’s the potential that you would do something to put yourself in harm’s way to protect me.”

“If that happened, regardless of us being in a relationship, if your ass is on the line, I can’t guarantee I do as told.”

“I don’t like that answer.”

“Jensen, if we do this, you need to trust me. I will do what you tell me when it comes to threats but I can’t say for sure that I won’t try to help you if I can.”

“So if it comes down to it, you’ll do whatever you want in the end.”

“Exactly.”

“If when I’m in bodyguard mode, you do what I say...I will learn to be okay with that very small possibility.”

“Good choice,” you said. You slid a hand around his back and traced up and down his spine, feeling a thin line raised on the skin. “What happened there?”

“Not advised to jump from of a speeding vehicle,” he said. You raised an eyebrow and he chuckled. “I was four wheeling once. Went off trail accidentally. Had to ditch my ride in a hurry. A bit of gravel-”

“Liar,” you said quietly. You smiled and he looked over your head.

“How’d you know?”

“I’m pretty good at knowing when people are acting,” you said. “You get it in combat?”

“Shrapnel got my vest.”

“You’re still lying.”

“It’s not pleasant. I’d rather not...scare you.”

“You don’t scare me,” you said.

“I was held captive once. Very, very briefly. I got a little beat up,” he said. 

“You?” you asked, Jensen nodding, sliding his hand up and playing with the end of your hair. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want.”

“Thanks. I don’t like to talk about that stuff a lot,” he said. 

“If you ever change your mind, I’m a good listener,” you said.

“Thanks,” he said. “You like scrambled eggs?”

“Who doesn’t?” you asked. He smirked and kissed your cheek before he popped out of bed. 

“Well I’m about to blow your mind with the Ackles special,” he said. He walked around the bed and picked up his underwear, turning when he noticed you watching him. You looked him up and down, Jensen laughing to himself. “I saw you checking me out when I was swimming you know.”

You groaned and pulled the sheets over your head. He moved around for a moment and you felt the sheets come down, Jensen leaning over you.

“I had to tease a bit, make sure things were mutual,” he said. 

“Of course you did.” You stretched and yawned, closing your eyes.

“Doing anything fun with your family today?”

“Shopping with my mom will be fun. I’m not the biggest shopper but she likes it. We’ll get lunch, hit a few stores, get a massage after. I think Chuck and the guys are going looking at houses for the boys. Sounds like they might get a place together again.”

“Would you like your brothers to live closer?” he asked. You sat up and held the covers to your chest, Jensen handing you his shirt. You pulled it on over yourself, shrugging as you sat on your knees. “Why do you interact with them if you don’t like them?”

“How long have your parents been married?”

“All my life. Before that,” he said.

“No step siblings, half siblings?”

“My brother and sister share the same parents I do,” he said. “I don’t quite know what it’s like to live in a family like that I guess.”

“My mom went to a very dark place after my dad died. I didn’t know how to fix it. Chuck made her laugh for the first time in six months. He made her smile. He helped her and she helped him too. His wife died earlier on that year. He made her so happy, makes her so happy. I will put up with a few mean step-brothers to never see her go to that place again.”

“I would understand if they resented your mom but it’s you it seems they don’t like.”

“I was the youngest by quite a bit. Chuck would spend time with me. I think the boys were jealous and they probably could have done with more time with their father back then. They’d lost their mom that year too. But I needed him, mom needed him, he was mourning himself...he did the best job he could considering how fucked up we all were. They’re both successful. I just don’t think they liked having a little sister honestly.”

“Sucks for them. Little sisters are cool,” he said with a smile. “My big brother loves to mess with me but he doesn’t treat me the way those two do.”

“Well, even if they move here, I don’t have to hang out with them,” you said. You crawled into his lap and wrapped your arms around his shoulders. “I heard someone’s a little cocky about their scrambled eggs.”

“Oh, wouldn’t you like to know,” he said. He stood up with you before letting you get your feet under you. You pulled on your underwear and followed him downstairs, whistling as you took in his backside. “Y/N…”

“My bodyguard is hot and he should know it,” you said. He shook his head and headed into the kitchen humming to himself as he started to make up some breakfast for the two of you. The doorbell rang and you groaned. “I bet that’s my mom, early as always. I’ll get her out of here.”

“You don’t have to,” he said.

“I plan on doing things to you after breakfast and I do not want her around for that,” you said. He laughed as you padded down the hall and to the front door. You cracked it open a smidge and saw a man in a suit standing there, his back to you. He spun around with a smile and you nodded. “Oh, hi Jake.”

“Good morning!” he said. “I apologize for being late this morning, my car-”

“The meeting,” you said, slapping yourself in the face. “I totally blanked on it.”

“That’s alright. Is now a good time?” he asked. You looked down at yourself and peeked back around the door. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah! It’s perfect, all perfect,” you said.

“You’re not...are you sure-” he said before Jensen was suddenly stepping into view and pushing you behind the door. “Good morning, Mr. Ackles. You uh, appear to be missing most of your clothes.”

“It seems I am,” said Jensen. “Ms. Y/L/N is very well. She would like to reschedule for ten am if that’s possible.”

“Uh…” he said before you rolled your eyes and opened the door all the way. You stared at him and he looked between you both. “Oh. Gotcha. You two…”

“Mhm,” hummed Jensen, crossing his arms.

“Jake would you mind setting up in my office? It’s just down the hall. Jensen and I were about to eat breakfast. We’ll only be fifteen or so minutes,” you said. He stepped inside and you pointed the way, Jensen pouting as you headed back into the kitchen. “Oh, I’m still gonna do things to you. Just tonight, pouty boy.”

“Alright. You told me David was going to be your manager I thought,” he said, going back to the fridge to get the eggs.

“Well I went with Jake. Is that a problem?

“No. I need to be made aware of decisions like that though. I’m going to have to work with him quite a bit for events, your work schedule, that stuff,” he said. 

“I thought you’d be happy. You said you liked him.”

“I do. I am happy. I’m just not happy that you didn’t tell me.”

“He’s been my manager for like a day, calm down,” you said. He put his hands on the counter and you saw him drop his head, his back to you. “Jensen, no evil person is out there looking to snatch me away the second you turn your head. It was one day.”

“In the future, please make me aware of staff changes when they happen?” he asked. He looked back at you, his face softer than you were expecting.

“Okay,” you said. While he whisked some eggs in a bowl, you walked over beside him, watching over his arm. “Looks good.”

“I haven’t even done anything yet,” he chuckled. You rested your head against his arm, Jensen adding in some spices to the mixture. You scooted up on the counter as he went to the stove, watching him scramble them on low, pouring in a dash of cream.

“Can I ask why the Jake thing bothered you?” you said quietly. He scrambled the eggs for a minute before sliding them onto a few plates.

“Because I have a bad feeling that there is someone out there that wants to hurt you and I have nothing to go off of besides a gut feeling and trusting that you’ll be honest with me, always. You didn’t do anything. I overreacted.”

He got out a pair of forks from the drawer, handing you one along with a plate.

“Your gut feelings are normally right?” you asked, taking a bite of the eggs.

“Normally. They were at the restaurant,” he said. You nodded, putting a hand on your arm where a barely there bruise was. “I’m sorry if I hurt you that night.”

“I get hurt worse walking into a wall cause I’m dumb. You had me on the ground before I even knew what was going on and stopped that guy from doing who knows what to everyone. I’m not sorry about that.” He was quiet but gave you a nod. “Your eggs are great. Permission to brag granted.”

“Thanks,” he said, the doorbell ringing again. “I better get dressed. We’re gonna talk about getting a gate at the end of the driveway too by the way.”

“I second that,” you said as you heard the front door open. “Oh my God, my mother, just walks wherever she wants.”

He took off upstairs, ducking down the hall just as she walked into the kitchen.

“Hi mom,” you said. “You are...three hours early.”

“I know, you have work things. I wanted to make you some food you can have for leftovers the next few days. You have hardly any food in your house,” she said.

“Ma, I can barely cook and most of the time, I don’t have the actual time,” you said. She rolled her eyes and you hopped off the counter.

“Well I’m here so might as well,” she said. You glanced up to the balcony and saw Jensen pop into view wearing some jeans and a long sleeve henley. His holster was clipped on under his shirt and you smiled as he came down. “Oh, good morning, Jensen.”

“Mrs. Y/L/N,” he said.

“Any particular reason my daughter is wearing your shirt and no pants?”

“Uh,” he said, opening his mouth when she made a face.

“Two plates of eggs? You think I was born yesterday?”

“No mam. Your observational skills are impressive,” he said. 

“Mom, could you lay off. We like, just started dating,” you said.

“Can you cook?” she asked him.

“A bit,” he said.

“Bodyguard, he can cook and he’s handsome. He’s fine by me,” she said. You put your head in your hands, your mom whacking your shoulder. “You’re so overdramatic. Now get out of my kitchen. We’ll get lunch and shop later. I assume Jensen is coming with us?”

“I would love to spend the day with you ladies but I trust you two will be okay on your own. I’d like to go over some things with Y/N’s new manager if Y/N’s okay with that,” said Jensen.

“You will join us for dinner though, won’t you? We’re going out with Chuck and the boys. Our treat,” she said.

“Mom,” you said, getting a look from her. “Jensen always goes out with me at night, that’s our rule. I’ll pay for his meal.”

“But we’re taking you kids-”

“He is my employee. You don’t-”

“He’s your boyfriend who happens to work for you. I’m paying for his dinner, alright?” she said. You held up your hands and padded out of the kitchen, Jensen following you upstairs. 

“I’m sorry about her,” you said back in your bedroom as you started to pick up last night’s clothes. “She’s-”

“She misses her daughter. She’s happy I’m here. It helps her sleep better at night,” he said. “Told me herself.”

“I love her. I love her to death but I was a kid when my dad died. I know it was hard for her but for six months, until she met Chuck, she acted like I didn’t exist. She likes to forget that sometimes.”

“People grieve differently,” he said. “Still, it wasn’t on you to do that.”

He took the dirty clothes from your hand and cupped your cheek, kissing your temple quickly. 

“Don’t know how anyone could not notice you. Good thing I get paid to stare at you all day,” he smirked. You lightly smacked his chest, Jensen giggling. “As much as it pains me to say it, get that tush dressed. We’ve got a very long meeting with your manager this morning.”

That Afternoon

“What about this one?” asked your mom, holding up a dress.

“You know I hate award shows,” you said.

“I mean for tonight. Or a date with Jensen sometime,” she said. You did your best to keep your face neutral but she caught the slight down turn of your lips. She slammed the dress back on the rack and put her hands on her hips. “What? All morning you have been short with me.”

“Mom I just started dating him like half an hour before you got to the house. You are going way too fast. I have dresses and I honestly wasn’t even going to say anything until it got more serious.”

“You pay him to protect your life. How much serious does it need to get?” she asked. You rolled your eyes and she made a face. “You barely pick up the phone and talk to me anymore.”

“Cause you changed after dad and not in a good way. For a little while, I lost both my parents. Even after Chuck, you two were so involved with each other you didn’t spend as much time as me as you did before dad died. When I was a teenager, when I really needed my mom, you weren’t there all the time. I’m sorry I grew up to be independent. But-”

“Do you think I don’t realize that? I know I made mistakes,” she said. She sighed and took a seat on a bench outside a waiting room. “I just want you to be happy and Jensen...I haven’t seen a smile on your face like that since before Brian died. He makes you happy, even when you two looked so annoyed with one another earlier in the week, he would stare and you would stare. I feel good about this one. I just want you to enjoy falling in love, if you do end up going that route with him.”

You sat down next to her and shrugged, crossing your arms. You leaned back against the wall and rubbed your sneaker against the floor.

“How do you know that’s your guy,” you asked quietly. “I mean, you’ve done it twice. How do you know?”

“It was different with Chuck. I was slower to admit to myself that I was in love with him. Your father was very quickly. I didn’t share that information with him until much later but I knew, a part of me, the part you don’t justify with logic or facts or details, that part always knew. It knew with them both. Nowhere does it say you only have to have one soulmate. I know you don’t want to hear that but I love them both equally, Y/N.”

“Mom, I love Chuck. It’s not the same as dad but I do. He makes you happy and he tries to be a dad to me but he gives me the space I need too. I’m happy you have him. I’m happy we both do.”

“Why do ask how you know the man you’re with is the one?” she asked. “Or are you asking because that part you can’t explain already told you something you’re not even willing to think yet.”

“I was curious was all,” you said as you stood.

“You’re a horrible actor,” she said. You pushed on her shoulder and she laughed. “Fine, fine. No more boy talk. Let’s try another store. I’m at the very least not letting you walk out of this mall without a new pair of heels.”

Later That Night

“Y/N?” asked Jensen outside your bedroom as he knocked on the door. You checked the back of your fancy bun one last time in the mirror before you walked out and into the room.

“One sec,” you said, bending down and putting on the five inch heels, zipping them up in the back. After a moment of looking yourself over in the mirror in a sleek, mostly backless black dress, you opened up the door. Jensen was in a tailored black suit with a deep navy tie. “You look-”

“Wow,” he said, looking you up and down. “You look so fancy.”

“Fancy?” you laughed. “Is this because you hardly ever catch me out of my sweats?”

“Don’t get me wrong, I love the sweats and the leggings. I love all of it,” he said. 

“You look very handsome,” you said, skirting past him and hearing a quiet whistle. “Knew you’d appreciate that.”

“Damn right I do,” he said as he caught up. “Ready to head out?”

“After you.”

“That’s great you guys found a house,” you said an hour later at the restaurant, mouth full of some cheese fries. Nick rolled his eyes at you and you licked your lips. “Wha? I’m hungry.”

“Actually it’s for mom and me,” said Chuck. You raised an eyebrow and he smiled. “I’m a writer so I can work from anywhere and your mom got offered a great position at a clinic here.”

“That’s great guys. I’d love to get to see you more,” you said. You looked at Michael and he had a curious smile on his face. “Did you get a house too?”

“Penthouse apartment hopefully. We’re looking at some tomorrow. Gonna be on my own for the first time. Nick and I talked and he’s not sure if he really wants to move out here yet. We decided we’d see what it’s like living apart for the first time,” he said. 

“Worst case I can always get a professor job at one of the colleges if I change my mind while I try to get into a school district,” said Nick while he played with the remnants of some crust on his plate. 

“You’ll come eventually,” said Chuck. “Get everyone living in the same timezone again. It’ll be good.”

“So are you two like a thing now?” asked Michael to you, looking as innocent as could be while he hid his shit eating grin.

“Yes,” you deadpanned. Jensen looked up from his salad but you went back to eating. For the most part the evening was what you were expecting. Your step-brothers acting oh so pleasant in front of your parents and Jensen getting a few questions about his job. You did smile though when Jensen was able to upstage Michael about some law usage. You were pretty sure even Michael was impressed with him at that point.

“That went well,” said Jensen an hour later after you’d parted ways with your family and were walking back to your car. “Michael’s growing on me. He seemed better tonight. Nick not so much.”

“I’m actually really proud of him for getting his own place. I get that they’re twins but they’re in their thirties. Neither one of them has had a girlfriend in years.”

“Michael’s like a workaholic though,” said Jensen, holding your hand when you walked past a guy in a jacket with his hood up.

“True. Maybe he’ll cut back some out here.”

“How do you think Nick will handle that?” he asked. You stopped walking and pulled out your phone. “What are you doing?”

“I don’t particularly like Nick most of the time, don’t get me wrong. But he might do something stupid,” you said as you dialed your brother. It rang a few times before he answered.

“Yeah?” he said.

“Hey Nick. You want to come over tomorrow while Michael apartment hunts?”

“Uh, sure,” he said and you knew he must have been around your parents still.

“Great. Come over around noon. We’ll have lunch and a swim or something.”

“Okay. See ya.”

You shook your head before you were walking again, Jensen bumping your shoulder.

“Something I need to know about?” he asked.

“The file you did on Nick, what’d you find.”

“Arrest record for when he was young. A few drunk and disorderlies, nothing Michael couldn’t ever get cleared up for him. Hospital stay for a few days in his twenties when he fell down some wet stairs. I’m going to go ahead and guess out of all of that he didn’t fall, did he.”

“No,” you said as you stopped outside your car.

“What happened?”

“I came home from school early and Nick had tried to kill himself,” you said. Jensen blinked a few times and you let out a dry laugh. “It’s hard to surprise you but I think that took the cake.”

“You need to tell me everything.”

“Why?”

“Because he’s a threat to you. You can’t see it but I can. He doesn’t like you and if he’s tried that before, it means-”

“Can we talk about this at home?” you said when you saw someone down the street recognize you. He nodded and they wandered up, asking for a few pictures. You posed and put on a smile, Jensen watching careful with a hard look in his eye.

“Woah, woah,” said Jensen half an hour later as you sat in the family room at one end of the couch in some sweats and an oversized tee, Jensen sporting a similar look but wearing the hoodie you’d given him. He had a notebook by his side but he’d put it on the coffee table in favor of throwing his hands up. “He tried to do it in your bedroom? He left a note on your bed?”

“My closet,” you said. “My closet had attic access so he’d tied a rope up on a beam. He had just kicked the chair away when I walked in. I was skipping last period. Senior year and all.”

“What’d you do?”

“It was very obvious that Nick knew he’d made a mistake. I grabbed him and held him up as best I could until he could untie himself. He fell down pretty hard cause I couldn’t hold him anymore and landed on all the junk lying on my closet floor. He told me we were gonna lie and say he fell down some stairs to account for all the bruises.”

“Why’d you help him lie?”

“Cause I thought he tried to kill himself because of me. I thought he hated me that much. He was in my bedroom after all,” you said.

“You read the note?”

“Jensen-”

“I need to know, Y/N.”

“Why?”

“Because my job is to protect you from threats. If your step-brother doesn’t like you and now his whole family is moving away from him to be closer to you, depending on a lot of things, this could get messy.”

“Jensen-”

“Did you read it?” he asked.

“Yes.”

“And?” For a moment you looked past him and outside, Jensen’s foot nudging yours. “I’m sorry but I gotta know.”

“He felt like a failure. He was in the car with his mom when she died. He saw how well Michael did and I did and he felt distant from his dad and he felt like his life was crumbling around him and honestly, he wanted to go be with his mom again. He felt like he didn’t belong. I fucking bawled reading it.”

“You guys ever talk about it or was it over like that?”

“I slapped him in the face and told him he was pathetic. His mom, my dad, they didn’t get a choice to live or die. I was so angry at him. He apologized and he promised me that if he ever felt like that again, he’d tell me. A few years later, he came to me and thought he might do something stupid.”

“His teaching sabbatical he went on.”

“He got some professional help. I paid for it all. He stayed out here, nearby. I visited him everyday on the way into work. He got better. He learned a lot about himself, how to cope, how to deal with things in his life. He still sees a therapist every week I pay for on the down low.”

“He’s no threat to you.”

“How do you know that?”

“Because he loves you and you love him, even if you don’t like one another or act like you care. If something bad were to happen, he would help you and you’re gonna do it right back.”

“How do-”

“Because your step-brothers who are assholes to you at times, they wanted to ensure that I would protect you when I first met them. I think it’s finally all clicking into place,” he said. “Hence why you never say a word about their behavior to your mom.”

“I will take prickly siblings over dead ones, even if I didn’t pick them,” you said.

“Are you worried Nick will take a bad turn with everyone else moving here?”

“I don’t know. I know he associates this place with bad memories, some of his darkest memories. I don’t blame him for not wanting to live here,” you said. Jensen nodded and ran his thumb over his lips. He propped his elbow on the back of the couch, resting his head in it.

“I’ve always thought you were kind. But helping your brother like that, in secret when I’m sure you want to tell your family, that’s not easy.”

“Yes, it is. There was never really a decision to be made though. The only one was to tell my parents and Michael and as long as Nick is honest with me, I will keep his secrets from them.”

“You’re more loyal than some of the people I served with,” he said, looking out the back windows. “It’s only an easy decision if you’re a good person. I wish I’d worked with more of those.”

“Do you want to talk about it?” you asked. He smiled and ruffled his hair, frowning after a moment.

“Jared saved my life you know. After I healed up, I transferred to his unit.”

“He’s a good guy to call your friend,” you said. He hummed and you crawled over to him, wrapping your arms around him. “I’m glad we’re finally friends.”

“Me too,” he said. He pulled you into his lap and rested his head on your shoulder. Your fingers ran through his hair, eyes drawn down to how his back flexed and relaxed. “Sorry for playing twenty questions with Nick. I won’t say a word to anyone, including him.”

“S’okay. Just doing your job.”

“What time is it?”

“Almost nine. Why?”

“Do you want to go to bed?”

“Counter offer. We make out in my hot tub and then go to bed.”

“Counter counter offer. I make ice cream sundaes we eat in said hot tub and then make out and then go to bed.”

“I’ve always had a thing for intelligent men,” you said. You kissed his cheek and he chuckled. “You’ve never seen me in a bikini before, have you.”

“I’m in for a treat then, aren’t I?” he said. “Go on and change.”

“I’ll meet you out there,” you said. You departed from him and headed upstairs, poking around in your closet for the perfect one to put on. You spotted him come out of the hall in his orange and blue striped shorts, a whistle on his lips as he jogged downstairs. In your closet you took a seat on the small bench, holding up your black teeny tiny bikini and your aqua blue that honestly made your butt look great.

You opted for the black top and blue bottoms to get the best of both worlds. You were midway through pulling your shirt off when you heard Jensen come in the room.

“Oh come on-” you said, something whacking you in the back of the head. Instantly you fell down, strong arms catching you. You looked up wearily, someone in a black mask looking down at you. The eyes weren’t green and you kneed him, putting an elbow to the back of the guy’s neck and making him groan. You got to your feet as fast as possible and sprinted out of the room. “Jensen!”

You knew you weren’t going to make it to the stairs without the guy catching you so you grabbed the railing and vaulted over the balcony to the ground below. You rolled when you hit the ground, spotting Jensen by the base of the stairs. Your eyes spun upwards, Jensen following your gaze and seeing the man standing there. You turned and saw Jensen running towards you, a loud thud right beside you. The man was on the first floor now and you ducked down, missing his arms as you dove into the dining room. By the time you had your head up, you saw Jensen tackling the guy, a gun going flying out of the intruder’s hands.

You stood up, watching the two of them wrestle, the intruder getting a good hit on Jensen’s face. 

“Y/N, go!” you heard Jensen yelling at you, the pounding in your ears finally growing a little quieter. Jensen told you when you were going over his book of rules that was the adrenaline in your system, trying to get your body to only focus on survival. The gun was laying fairly close to you and you heard Jensen shout, eyes darting over to see he had a cut on the back of his shoulder. 

He had Jensen pinned face down and was working on restraining him. He was still shouting at you and the man looked up the second he had pulled the tie taut. You ran over and picked up the gun, the man revealing a knife.

“Put that down or I kill him,” he said. You swallowed, Jensen yelling a frenzy of things at you, all of which involved you running away as fast as possible. Instead you aimed the gun and fired, the man falling backwards as it hit his vest. 

You ran over and kicked the knife he dropped away, keeping the gun on him as Jensen rolled over to it and cut himself free. He gave you a dirty look but searched the guys pockets and found more restraints, slipping some on the intruder before taking the gun out of your hands.

“Call the police. Now,” said Jensen. 

________

A/N: Read Part 7 here!

[emachinescat]

Mama Bear

A Tales of Arcadia Fan-Fiction

by @emachinescat @whumptober2021 day 3 - Sticks and Stones May Break My Bones But... ("who did this to you?")

Summary: After Jim’s fight with Draal, his mom sees his bruises, and Mama Bear is unleashed. Post-Win, Lose, or Draal.

Whumpee: Jim

Words: 2,603

Note: This fic was inspired by what Barbara said in 1x13 about Jim coming home from school covered in bruises. As is my way, I took the idea and ran with it.

TW: none

Barbara Lake had always considered herself incredibly lucky that her son turned out as well as he did. It wasn’t her own doing, she was sure of that – she always did the best she could, but being a single mom meant she’d had to work extra shifts to support her small family and never felt like she was there enough.

No, Jim was just a really good kid.

Not many moms could boast that their sixteen-year-old son could cook better than they could, let alone that they made gourmet lunches and dinners (and breakfasts, on most weekends), not just willingly, but happily. And not many moms could brag that their sixteen-year-old son did the dishes or kept the house clean or put aside his own wants and dreams to take care of his overworked mother. Who got up early to leave flowers on their bedside table after a long night at work, or who tucked them in after they fell asleep on top of the covers, still in their scrubs, because they’d been too exhausted to do anything else.

Barbara tried not to brag too much about Jim. She knew that he did have a social life of his own, and as far as she could tell, he was fairly well liked at school and she didn’t want to embarrass him if any of his friends found out just how much he doted on his mother. But sometimes she couldn’t help it, and she’d find herself rambling to her beautician or the nurses at the hospital or sometimes even a long-suffering patient about how her son was one-of-a-kind. He didn’t get into trouble at school, didn’t fight, didn’t skip school, and almost never missed curfew.

Until one day, he did.

It wasn’t even like it was a gradual change. There was no slow fade. She didn’t watch him slowly descend into bad grades or late nights or midnight calls about museum break-ins. There were no signs. He went to bed one day, the same as ever, and then suddenly he was getting into trouble at school, getting into fist fights, missing curfew, breaking into museums in the dead of night. Not only that but his grades – which had always been slightly higher than average – had plummeted, and he’d developed dark circles under his eyes like he never slept and sometimes he moved around like he was an eighty-year-old man and though his good nature and kind heart remained, it seemed strained at times. He still did sweet things for her, but not as often.

At first, she’d thought he was burning the proverbial candle at both ends and his lack of sleep was taking a toll on his mental and physical health. As a doctor, she’d seen firsthand what lack of sleep could do to a person. Their entire personality would change, or fizzle out, and their judgment would be severely impaired.

But then she’d seen the bruises and her sleep-loss theory flew out of the window.

***

Two weeks ago

Barbara thought boundaries and independence were a valuable part of a child’s development, so she always knocked before she entered Jim’s room. Of course, if he were gone, she wouldn’t bother.

On this particular day – one of her rare days off – she was sure he wasn’t home. She hadn’t heard him come in, hadn’t seen his bike propped up against the side of the house or in the garage. The container of store-bought chocolate chip cookies (she had neither the time nor skill to bake them herself) she’d left out for him hadn’t been touched. For all appearances, Jim hadn’t gotten home from school yet.

And so, she didn’t knock as she approached his bedroom door with a laundry basket propped on her hip. Jim always did his own laundry, but she’d seen how tired and overworked he’d been lately and wanted to ease his burden however she could.

The sight that greeted her when she nudged open the door and flipped on the light was one that would stick with her, tattooed onto her mind’s eye, for the rest of her life.

Jim was asleep on top of his unmade bed. It looked like he’d gotten halfway undressed and then decided to forgo comfort for sleep, and lay on his stomach in only his jeans. One shoe was on, the other halfway under the bed. But what arrested her attention so violently was the great rainbow of bruises arching across his back and stretched around his side, disappearing beneath his stomach where he lay on the bed.

She couldn’t help herself. A horrified shriek escaped her, and Jim sprung up so quickly it made her head spin. The panicked look in his eyes did not escape her notice, nor did the way he made a desperate reach for his pocket, like he was trying to grab something – trying to defend himself? When he saw who was in his room, and that they were alone, and that there was no danger, the raw fear faded, though a hint of panic remained.

“Mom!” he squawked, crossing his arms across his chest like that would be enough to hide the dizzying array of green, purple, yellow, and black that blanketed his chest. She noticed with surprise the lean muscles of his arms. Jim had always been fit, but never strong. He’d never said anything about a gym and he’d never been serious about sports, but she filed this information away for later and focused on the problem at hand.

Her stomach twisted as her doctor’s eyes traveled slowly, deliberately down her son’s bare torso. The bruises were worse on his stomach and chest, something she hadn’t thought possible, and she realized with horror that some of them were days, maybe weeks, older than others. This – whatever this was – was not an isolated incident.

Rage like she’d never felt before, like the protective energy of all mothers who had come before her collected into one finely-honed sword, pierced her soul as she came to the only conclusion that made any logical sense: Someone had done this to her son.

When she spoke, she barely recognized her own voice, cold as the furthest depth of the ocean, shaking with unmitigated fury.

“Who did this to you?”

Jim’s answer didn’t surprise her, but she also didn’t believe it for a second. “No one. It… was an accident.” She watched, lips crammed together in an impossibly thin line, teeth grinding against one another, her hands trembling with a righteous anger she had no outlet for, as Jim slowly reached out for the shirt he’d left in a heap at the end of the bed, the other arm still wrapped protectively around his torso. She didn’t stop him. She would absolutely be examining his injuries fully before the evening was done, but for now, she’d seen enough. The sight of her son’s bruised flesh would burn in her memory forever, more clearly than when she saw it right in front of her.

Skittishly, like a cat caught sniffing around back alley garbage cans, he snatched up the shirt and swiftly pulled it over his head. He couldn’t hide the flinch as he raised his arms to pull the fabric over his head. As he did so, she got the full view of his torso, and the wild, impossible thought flitted through her mind that it almost looked like some giant hand had wrapped around his body and squeezed. The image, however nonsensical, sent waves of nausea crashing through her. Her anger swelled again, and the crest of it burst forth, no longer containable, and the only person she could release it on was the one who was actively lying to her.

“James Lake, Jr. – do you think I’m an idiot?!”

Jim froze, his hands stilling completely as he adjusted the neck of his tee. He had never heard his mother direct such cold fury at anyone, let alone himself. “W-what? Of course not, Mom. I just–”

“You expect me to believe that you accidentally hurt yourself this badly? That you woke up one morning and you were covered in bruises? Jim, I’m a doctor. I see people come in for less than this. I wouldn’t be surprised if you have fractured ribs.” Now the anger was giving way to panic. “And don’t think that I haven’t noticed that some bruises are newer than others. This isn’t something that just ‘happened’ and it’s not an accident. So tell me. Who – the – hell – did this to my son?”

A small, ridiculous surge of satisfaction bubbled up inside of her as she watched Jim’s mouth fall open. He’d never heard his mother utter a word stronger than darn before. She’d always been very careful about the language she used in front of him. But his condition released something feral inside of her, and it was honestly a bit of a shock that nothing stronger came out.

She watched his face, saw the conflict in his eyes, knew with even more surety that he was hiding something big from her and trying to decide if he was going to answer truthfully. Well, tough luck. He wasn’t leaving his bedroom until he answered her question.

He must have seen this in her eyes, for after a moment, he dropped his gaze. Heavily, he sat down on the foot of his bed and stared down at his hands. “Mom, I… can’t. I just can’t. I’m sorry.”

At this, the fear took center stage again, and Barbara fell to her knees in front of her son, cupping his face in her hands. The tears she’d been holding back with such determination threatened to fall at the way he unconsciously leaned into her touch. His eyes closed briefly, and for a moment he was a child again, sniffling from a scraped knee and being comforted by his mother. That moment ended all too quickly, because his scraped knee was actually a bruised and battered torso, and he wasn’t a child anymore, and he was in trouble.

“Jim. Whatever is going on, I promise, I won’t be angry. But someone is hurting you. You can’t deny that. What is happening to my son?” She tried not to speculate – dared not speculate – but so many possibilities chased themselves through her head, each one worse than the last. Bullies? Abusive teacher? Drugs?

He sat for a moment, a slumped, defeated statue with too much weight on his young shoulders – Young Atlas, Walter’s voice echoed in her mind. She saw the exact moment when he made his decision. He squared his shoulders, set his jaw, and met her eyes once more. Something brewed within those beautiful blue depths, but what it was she couldn’t say. Was it regret? Guilt? Fear?

“It really was an accident,” he finally said, voice slow and measured.

“Jim, really–!”

“I’m telling the truth, Mom!” he insisted so fervently that she was tempted to believe him. Almost.

“Do you hear how ridiculous you sound?” she demanded. “What kind of ‘accident’–”

“A Vespa one,” Jim blurted, and his eyes flickered down to his hands in shame. “I… a friend gave me a ride on his Vespa. I was on the back and got thrown off and rolled halfway down the embankment before a tree caught me right in the ribs.”

Fresh panic wormed its way into Barbara’s mind at Jim’s confession. As horrible as it was, part of her desperately wanted to believe him. If he had been in a vehicle accident, then no one had been deliberately hurting her child. It was just his own irresponsibility and stupidity.

“When did this happen?”

A beat. Then, sheepishly, “... yesterday.”

But – “What about the older bruises, Jim? Did you get into two Vespa accidents?”

“Paintball,” Jim answered without missing a beat. “We had a whole thing a few months back. Guys versus girls. And I got hit. A lot.”

Barbara recalled clearly the size and location of the older bruises that had peeked out from underneath the fresh, reaching ones. They could have easily been from punches or kicks, but it was feasible that the bruises could have come from being shot at close-range by a paintball gun.

Deep down, something still nagged at her. But Jim’s explanation was a siren’s call and she was so tired of swimming.

“Do you promise me you’re telling the truth?” The gaze she fixed on him one would have withered a succulent.

Without hesitation, Jim answered, his voice clear, strong, and insistent. “Yes.”

Relief flooded through her, and she squashed the last remaining doubts, perhaps a bit too eagerly. “In that case, you are grounded.”

Jim’s eyes widened. “What, really? You promised you wouldn’t be angry!?”

“I’m not angry, I’m disappointed. Let’s see, you know how I feel about both paintball and those Vespas and yet you went behind my back and nearly got yourself killed. You’ve been lying to me, Jim, keeping secrets. Is this why you’ve not been sleeping? Why you’ve been so distant?” It didn’t explain why he’d been getting into more trouble than usual, but right now she would take what she could get.

The slightest of hesitations. “Yeah.”

She considered, eyes burning into him, for a long moment, then she sighed, the sound of every evil thing escaping Pandora’s box, and she clapped her hands together briskly. “Okay, come on.”

Jim cocked his head to the side. “Where are we going?”

“The hospital.”

Jim groaned. “Mom, I’m okay. I’m just bruised.”

“I’m not taking any chances, mister. You could have fractured ribs. You should have been rushed to the hospital as soon as the accident happened. Who is this friend, anyway? Why didn’t he take you to the E.R.?”

Jim scratched the side of his neck. “You wouldn’t know him,” he evaded, and Barbara made a promise to herself to revisit this point later. “And we were afraid we’d get into trouble…”

“Well, you did, kiddo. Now, get up. We’re going to the hospital, you’re getting x-rays, and then we’re getting ice cream.”

Jim blinked up at her. She wondered if he realized his arm was curled protectively around his ribs as he slowly eased himself off the bed. “Ice cream? I thought I was grounded.”

“You’re hurt, Jim, and I’m your mother. I’m not a monster.” A soft smile pulled at the corners of Jim’s mouth at her words, and not wanting him to get too comfortable, she added, “You are grounded, though. Absolutely. You’re not going anywhere after school for at least two weeks. And depending on the x-rays, you might not be leaving your bed for a while, either.”

“Mooom.”

“Don’t you ‘mom’ me. Now, put your other shoe on. Let’s hussle. I want you looked at as soon as possible.”

What she didn’t see as she turned to leave the room was the heavy curtain of guilt being drawn over Jim’s face.

Later, she’d drive him home with a diagnosis of two cracked ribs and deep bruising across 80 percent of his torso and a bottle of muscle relaxers for the pain. They’d get ice cream and he would mope about bedrest and she would try to cheer him up (but not too much; he was still grounded, after all). But behind the pain of his injuries lurked a deeper, fierer ache that no balm could soothe, no medication could ease.

With every lie, he could feel the chasm widen between him and his mother, and it hurt more than a few broken ribs and bruises ever could.

[misscorn]

Day 7: Future/Post Confession

I can't believe yet another @takaritsuweek has come and gone so fast 😭❤ everyone in this Fandom is so talented and im obsessed with the nostalgia content 💘 please enjoy my last one shot for this week ☺

***

Onodera Ritsu was being weird, which could only mean one thing: something was wrong and he wasn't talking to Masamune about it.

Masamune had really hoped that things would go smoother after Ritsu confessed, but that was foolish. Masamune was so, undeniably happy, but they weren't perfect people. Both of them still had things to work on, separately and together. One of those things was more readily relying on one another. So, Masamune was determined to find out what was wrong.

Ritsu just seemed a lot more...spacey than usual. And anxious. And maybe a little gloomy? Masamune couldn't quite put his finger on it, but he knew that he didn't like it.

Currently, Ritsu was over at Masamune's apartment, helping to clean up the dishes as the two of them had just finished dinner. Ritsu was at Masamune's place quite frequently and Masamune always brought up the idea of moving in together, but Ritsu hadn't quite come around to it yet, mostly because he knew for a fact that it would affect any work the two of them brought home. Masamune got...distracted easily and Ritsu tended to get swept away. So, for now Ritsu was content with a lot of sleepovers.

Once they finished cleaning, Masamune led Ritsu into the living room by his hand. He sat down unceremoniously on the couch before pulling Ritsu down with him and on to his lap, making Ritsu's face burn red.

I kind of hope he never gets used to this, Masamune thought, loving the sight of Ritsu's adorably embarrassed expression.

"What do you think you're doing?" Ritsu asked, trying to sound scolding, but he only succeeded in sounding nervous.

Masamune wrapped his arms around Ritsu's waist. "I just want to talk and I figured if I have you like this you won't be able to run away." Like how you love to do.

Ritsu couldn't even argue against that logic, but he made a displeased face anyway. "Fine. What is it?"

"Is everything okay with you?" Masamune asked.

"Huh? Yeah, I'm fine." Ritsu said dismissively.

"You just seem like you've had something on your mind lately." Masamune said. "Making me worried."

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to worry you." Ritsu apologized immediately.

"Don't say sorry, there's nothing to be sorry for, I just wanna know if there's something going on." Masamune said, trying to sound reassuring.

Ritsu chewed on his lower lip nervously before he spoke again. "I guess I have been thinking a bit..." He started vaguely.

"What about?" Masamune pressed gently.

"Well, my mom's gotten off my back about An-chan, but not about settling down. She's been trying to set up matchmaking sessions, introducing me to daughters of friends of hers whenever I visit, sending me info about singles events." Ritsu tried not to cringe at the thought of going to one of those. "And I just...I think maybe it's time I tell my parents about you. About us." Ritsu said. "I mean, I know we only started officially d-dating not too long ago, but I feel like we're both kind of in this for the long haul." He laughed nervously. They've both been in this for the past ten years, after all. It was hardly too soon to let his parents be in the know. "So, um, it seems only right to tell them..."

"If you want to tell them then you should." Masamune said.

"You make things sound so simple." Ritsu sighed. "It could go really, really wrong, you know?"

"I know. But the other option is keeping it a secret forever. Which, you can if you want, but it might be difficult to eventually explain to your parents when they visit why you have a longterm male roommate and you both wear matching wedding rings and share a room and take care of a little girl who calls both of you dad."

Ritsu's face flushed at Masamune projection of their future together, his heartbeat picking up in pace. "You want to have a daughter?"

"Someday, I think it'd be nice. But we're not even past the step of me meeting your parents, so I don't think they're going to get grandchildren anytime soon." Masamune planted a quick kiss on Ritsu’s shoulder.

"W-Wait, meeting?! I was just going to tell them, I didn't plan on having you meet them yet!" Ritsu said quickly.

"Ritsu, this is your mom we're talking about. If you tell her I exist she will track me down and interrogate the hell out of me whether you want her to or not." Masamune deadpanned.

Ritsu groaned and slumped against Masamume, knowing that he was right. "Maybe I should just test the waters first? It doesn't seem fair to throw all of us in at once."

Masamune hesitated to agree, subconsciously playing with Ritsu's hair. "I want to be there." He said firmly. "I understand you're worried, but like you said, things could go wrong and I want to be there for you if they do."

"You're only one door away." Ritsu said.

"Too far." Masamune insisted, pressing a kiss to Ritsu's forehead.

Ritsu rolled his eyes, trying hard not to smile. "You're absolutely ridiculous."

"Mhm. Besides, I can't charm the hell out of your parents if I'm busy next door worrying about you."

"Oh, is that your plan? To be all cool and suave until they can't possibly reject our relationship?" Ritsu asked sarcastically.

"Yes, exactly."

Ritsu shook his head before he refocused and took a deep breath. "How's this weekend?"

"I can do this weekend." Masamune said.

"I'll invite them to my place for dinner and hopefully it will be totally boring and uneventful and they won't care about us being together at all."

"Yeah, the woman who has hounded you about marriage for over ten years is going to not care about you being in a romantic relationship." Masamune said sarcastically.

Ritsu groaned loudly.

Masamune chuckled. "What about your dad? How do you think he'll react?"

"No idea, which is honestly worse."

"We'll handle it." Masamune promised and sealed it with a kiss.

-

"I can't do this, I think I should call them and cancel, tell them I'm sick." Ritsu said as he and Masamune cooked dinner together. Technically it wouldn't be a lie since Ritsu was feeling pretty nauseous.

Ritsu had spent all day yesterday making sure his apartment was spotless and then earlier today he and Masamune had gone grocery shopping together since Ritsu’s options for dinner had been a little slim.

"Oh, yeah, tell your mom that you're sick, I'm sure that will make her stay away instead of making her want to come over more." Masamune said sarcastically.

"You're no help."

"I thought I was being a lot of help, unless you wanna cut the onions." Masamune said, not looking up from the cutting board where he was working on the veggies.

Ritsu huffed and turned away to sit at the kitchen table, putting his head in his hands. He couldn't do this, he was such an idiot for ever thinking that he could. Introducing his parents to Masamune? He had never even mentioned liking men to them! And now suddenly he was going to announce that he had a boyfriend! There was only one way this could go: badly.

"Hey," Masamune said softly, abandoning his cutting station to sit next to him. "Its gonna be okay."

"You don't know that."

"I know, and honestly I'm kind of freaking out too. I don't think there's anything that could prepare me for meeting your parents. I want them to like me, I want them to think I'm a good fit for you because I know they're always going to be a big part of your life. Even if they can be a little overbearing, they love you, and it would kind of really suck if the people who loved you the most hated me." Masamune said. "But, either way I know that no matter what happens we'll still be together and for me that's enough." Masamune placed a comforting hand on Ritsu's knee.

"Even if my mom spends every single family gathering trying to drive you away? Even if she keeps trying to set me up on blind dates? Or, worse, tries to convince my dad to mess with your work?"

"Ritsu, the only thing your mom could do to keep me away from you is put out a hit on me."

"Don't joke about that."

"Oh come on, your parents don't have that many connections." Masamune said. "...right?"

"I really couldn't tell you."

"Jesus Christ." Masamune said, breathing through a laugh. "Look, the point is; we're gonna be okay."

Ritsu placed his hand on top of Masamune's and gave it a squeeze as he slowly nodded. "Okay...okay." He said. "Let's hurry and finish dinner then. My mom likes to get places early."

Masamune smiled softly and stole a swift kiss before happily helping Ritsu in the kitchen once more.

Eventually, there came a knock at the door. "I'll keep an eye on the food while you go get it." Masamune said. Dinner was just nearly done.

Ritsu swallowed hard and nodded, turning to leave the kitchen.

"Wait." Masamune grabbed his hand and kissed him quickly. "For good luck." He winked.

"Y-You're such an idiot." Ritsu scolded before quickly going to the front door and opening it.

Youko and Tatsuo Onodera stood side by side at Ritsu's door. Youko broke out into a smile and threw her arms around Ritsu before anyone could get a word out.

"H-Hi, mom." Ritsu smiled nervously as he hugged her back. "Hi, dad." He said to Tatsuo over Youko's shoulder as he was still being tightly squeezed.

"You feel skinny." Youko said as soon as she pulled away, pouting at her son. Ritsu was not surprised to be scolded instead of greeted, but he knew his mother meant well.

"Well, its a good thing I've invited you over to eat then. Come in." Ritsu said with a sheepish expression, attempting to play it off.

"It smells good." Tatsuo said.

"Ritsu, don't tell me you've left the food unattended for long." Youko said worriedly as they shuffled toward the kitchen.

"No." Ritsu's hands started to shake. "The foods being watched. Right now. B-by my b-boyfriend."

""Boyfriend?!"" Both Youko and Tatsuo exclaimed.

"How long has this been a thing?" Tatsuo asked.

"Oh...ten years or so..."

"Ten YEARS?!" Youko had heard enough, marching into the kitchen with her husband and son following not far behind.

"M-Mom, wait, maybe we should talk a little more-"

"You." Youko pointed accusingly at Masamune. "Are you my son's so called partner?"

"I am. My name is Takano Masamune, it's nice to-"

"Takano? I'm not familiar with that name. What's your family background?" Youko interrupted.

Masamune blinked, glancing between Ritsu and his parents, a little confused by the question. "Uh, my mother is a lawyer and my step father is a doctor, but I'm not on speaking terms with either of them."

"A boy with a troubled family history? Hardly seems like a good choice for a partner." Youko commented to Ritsu.

"Mother! That's incredibly rude!" Ritsu defended Masamune immediately. What was she even going on about?

"What do you do for a living?" Youko asked Masamune.

Masamune played along with her questions as he didn't know what else to do. "I'm the editor in chief for Marukawa Publishing's shoujo manga department: Emerald."

"Emerald? Onodera Ritsu, do you mean to tell me that you are dating your boss?" Youko said, putting her hands on her hips.

"I've heard about the great things you've done for Emerald, Takano." Tatsuo admitted. "But it does seem to be a conflict of interest to be dating a subordinate."

"I've been in love with him since I was twelve! Way before he ever became my boss!" Ritsu said quickly before a realization dawned on him. "Wait...these are the things you're upset about? His family and his job?"

"They're very important things to consider when picking a partner, Ritsu." Youko said. "You know, if you had told me that you were rejecting all those lovely girls because they were girls I could have been setting you up with perfectly charming and handsome men!" Youko pouted.

Ritsu wanted to laugh. And cry. And hug his mom and kiss Masamune and melt into the floor in total relief.

"I'm sorry, but I'll have to object to any matchmaking sessions." Masamune jumped in.

Youko frowned sternly at him. "Just what exactly makes you worthy of my one and only son?"

"I know I'm not the kind of person that you would normally want for Ritsu, but I love him. I've loved him for over ten years and there's nothing that could ever stop me from loving him. I will always, always take care of him and make him happy and if there ever comes a day that I don't then please feel free to come back and snatch him away from me because just like you I think Ritsu only deserves the best. I will always be loyal, reliable, and honest with him. And, if you'd still like to join us for dinner, I can show you that I'm not completely useless around a kitchen."

Youko did not move, nor did her disapproving expression melt away, but Tatsuo stepped forward to put a hand on his wife's shoulder.

"So, ten years huh? That's a long time. Why don't you tell us how this all started?" He smiled as he ushered his wife to sit down.

Ritsu beamed, tearing up a bit.

"Well, I was in our school's library..."

[descendantofthesparrow]

Commission work - Harry Hook x Darling! Reader - two parter - unpredictably adorable - part 2

commissioner @thebookbakery​

=

Since you were a child, your mind was constantly overthinking, every single possibility, good or bad, bombarding your mind about everything and nothing at the same time.

-what if I never live up to my mom's expectations-

-if I don’t pass this test everyone will hate me-

-they aren’t really my friend; they just feel sorry for me-

-I need to shut up I’m talking to much-

-they are ignoring me; they must hate me-

-everyone is faking-

-if I’m not careful I'll cut my finger and then I'll have to get surgery to remove my hand because I was too careless-

Yeah…it got tiring after a while.

Everything made sense when you were 10 and were finally diagnosed with anxiety, everything got a little bit easier to deal with after that, one of your tactics was just pretending your best friend Piper was talking you down

-I forgot to turn off the oven, and I’m going to burn my mom's house down, and I’m going to go to jail and-

‘no, you didn’t, you always check every single time, twice, you turned it off, now shut up before I smack you, I’m trying to eat this churro.’

It always loomed in the back of your mind, though hanging out with your closest friends did deafen the noise a bit, but it was always there.

You had little toys to help you focus but you were always looked at oddly when you had a little cube with millions of buttons on it so once again, your anxiety won out and you picked at your fingers, bit your lip, rubbed the fabric of your clothes between your fingers, and sometimes dug your nail into your thumb to distract yourself from your own brain.

Crushes, were one of your ultimate weakness, even the thought of someone you had a crush on sent you into a spiral, your brain would tell you they didn’t even know you existed, that they hated you and faking being nice, that your crush would never go anywhere.

Now you only had two crushes your whole life.

One from when you were little, Piper, but that didn’t last long (After you saw her eat a caterpillar bleh) and EX-prince Ben himself, that one had lasted a whole two years, and while you had been his friend before your crush grew, that didn’t stop your brain from shoving those random piercing thoughts into you.

And now, there was another one.

Harry, freaking, Hook. Son of Captain Hook himself, the villain of your mother's story.

And he was the sweetest thing you had ever encountered, you gushed to jane about his little nose scrunched when he grinned, how his tongue poked out of his lips slightly when he concentrated, when he fluffed up his already floofy hair when he was frustrated.

It was just all too much for your anxious little self,  it took all your might to keep yourself from bolting away from the handsome pirate.

You sighed, splashing cold water against your face and blindly grabbing for your towel and patting your face dry. You felt your face heat up as you thought back to the day before, in study hall, when Harry ever so gently placed his thumb on your chin to stop you from chewing on your lip.

You let out a long sigh/squeak as you grabbed your bathroom counter and sunk down into a squat, puffing your cheeks as you tried to calm yourself down. “I’m so doomed” you muttered to yourself, this crush on Harry was worse than the one on Piper OR Ben.

With the two aforementioned crushes, you never imagined it going any farther than dating, so imagine your internal embarrassment when one day you realized you were daydreaming about being buried into Harry's side as you slept in on a weekend in your very own place, living together with three dogs and two cats, and four birds, with two guest rooms specifically for Uma and Gil.

It was nice to dream about but once the dark shadow that was your anxiety reared its ugly head and whispered horrid thoughts about Harry’s “true” feelings about you, it was harder to enjoy your daydreams.

-he’s just using me to get revenge~-

-he’s just like his father, a filthy, cheating pirate-

-he’s faking everything-

-he flirts with everyone; I am nothing special-

You knew it was all bullcrap, even your own mother had met harry (at her request) and happily told you that he was nothing like his dad, and one of the sweetest boys she had ever met, even piper and Peter themselves, liked harry.

But like always, your brain never liked to listen to others and always took a darker train of thought.

You shook your head out of thought and stood, walking back into your room and grabbing your bag, slinging it over your shoulder and grabbing your keys, slipping out of your dorm room and locking it behind you, checking twice to ease your mind.

“hey (y/n)” you flinched as you spun around, letting out a sharp sigh as you realized Uma was the one to call out to you, she rose her brow, a small smirk on her face “sorry, thought you heard me walk up to you”

“you-you’re fine” you smiled back, huffing as the girl tossed her arm over your shoulder and started walking with you to the cafeteria.

“hear the rumor that Mrs.Popin is pop quizzing us in algebra today?”

“she is?” you asked, calm as could be on the outside, but once again your mind started running

-what if it's something we haven’t covered yet? Or what if I wasn’t paying attention to the subject?! What if I accidentally check the wrong one! What if-

Uma tugged you into the seat next to her, picking up a clementine and peeling it open, offering you a slice, shrugging as you declined “suit yourself, yeah, I’m wondering how Harrys gonna do, with his problem with numbers after all”

“oh right, his dyscalculia” you muttered, mind now running wild worrying for harry. “I think he’ll be fine, Mrs.Popin is lenient with him, and she lets all of us take the tests over and over again until we get a passing grade”

“yeah” Uma hummed, chewing on another slice “waffles or pancakes today?”

“I heard It’ was French toast~” Harry purred, plopping down next to you and leaning into your space once again, setting your face on fire and cutting off your voice as usual. “you okay (y/n)?” you whipped around to look at Harry with wide eyes, that….that was the first time he had ever called you by your name, it was always your last name.

“I-yes?” you shrugged, looking down at the table and picking at it “I’m fine”

Harry just hummed and leaned away from you, starting a conversation with Uma about the upcoming math quiz.

Your mind whirled as you processed the fact that he called you by your first name. but thankfully it never went anywhere as the bell for breakfast being served rang throughout the room. Uma tapped your arm, hurrying you to the line to grab the hot and ready food before it was gone.

You grabbed your preferred bread and usual toppings, sighing happily as you noticed your favorite drink was in stock this morning. You grabbed the bottle and tossed in on your tray, following after Uma as she went down the sides line, grabbing a handful of bacon for herself.

After dodging the oncoming breakfast crowd, you, Harry, Gil, and Uma finally settled back at your table. Evie, Jane, and Dizzy joining you moments later “morning~” Jane sang, poking your cheek with a ‘boop’ and starting to eat her breakfast. “oh (y/n), the planning committee is needed in the gym later today, about prom n stuff”

“kay” you muttered, quickly going through your slices of French toast and gulping down your drink “still don’t know how I got roped into the planning committee in the first place” you laughed to yourself, you hardly spoke during the meetings, you were more the errand girl and the one who wrote down what needed to happen as everyone else actually planned.

Jane giggled and patted your shoulder, turning her attention back to the conversation of the table, to which you weren’t bothering to pay attention to.

You dug into your bag and pulled out your notebook, going over your previous notes for math to prepare for the quiz later that day.

Sometimes Jane and Harry would bump into you randomly, Harry's fingers brushing your arm when he would reach for something across the table, you did your best to keep the heat from your face.

At some point harry gently probed your shoulder, making you squeak from surprise, unexpecting of the touch as you looked to harry with wide eyes. He gave a soft smile and nodded towards the doors “bell rung for class darlin’, don’t want yeh ta be late” you quickly stood, yelping as your knee bashed against the table.

“ooow” you bent over slightly, palming your knee as you felt the pain bloom across it. “shit”

“wow” Harry chuckled, grabbing your bags and slinging them over his shoulder “never heard yeh swear before darlin’, come on, ill escort yeh” he placed his hand on the small of your back, and lead you toward your first class.

While you appreciated Harry's chivalry, your mind….was not helping.

-everyone is staring at me-

-they are going to think it's odd he has his hand on me-

-everyone is staring at us-

-everyone is going to think it’s weird that Harry is around me-

-EVERYONE IS STAR-

“here we are” Harry thankfully interrupted your train of thought as he handed you back your bag and gestured to your English class “I’ll see yeh later darlin’” he winked at you and strut away, leaving you with your usual burning face and fidgeting fingers.

You sighed, walking into class and hurrying to your seat, ignoring the imaginative eyes on you as you took out your notebook.

-

The sound of your pen quickly tapping on your clipboard was the only thing that kept you from screaming at everyone.

It was just…too…loud…so many voices at once, all speaking at different volumes and all needing different things, many of them speaking at you, all too much for you to handle.

You gave one look at jane and she nodded, taking your clipboard and walking into the crowd of planners, distracting them as you exited the gym, heading for your room to calm down.

You rubbed your chest and focused on controlled breathing. Everything felt so tight, like something was sitting on your chest as you walked through the halls, fingers gripping your skirt to ground yourself.

You stumbled a bit as a barrage of screaming hit you, you tuned a bit, seeing two of your classmates that you never bothered to learn the names of screaming at each other in the hallway.

Your ears began to ring as you stared at them, unable to continue onto your room. one of the boys looked away from his friend, glaring right at you. “OI WHAT ARE YOU LOOKIN AT!” he screamed, hands balling into fists as he seemed to look into your soul.

You let out a breathless squeak, bolting down the hall, sliding as you took a quick corner and continued to run where ever.

Your original destination was lost, mind yelling at you to hide.

-THEY ARE FOLLOWING ME-

-HIDE-

-THEY ARE GOING TO HURT ME-

-HIDE-

-IM GOING TO DIE-

-HIDE-

You gasped for breath, letting a scream as you slammed into a wall that wasn’t there a moment ago, you slid down to your side, curling up into a ball and letting out choked sobs as the world went dark around you.

You could feel yourself passing out but you couldn’t get a grip on yourself.

You were having a panic attack but you couldn’t do a thing to make it go away, whenever they happened one of your friends was always there to ground you, always helping you come back down to earth.

You couldn’t breathe, air only leaving you as you gasped. Through the ringing in your ears, you heard a voice, but you couldn’t recognize it as whoever it was grabbed onto your shoulders and tried to lift you up.

You felt yourself screech and lash out, your fist hitting something almost solid, whoever it was didn’t flinch and trailed their hands down your arms, grabbing gently onto your hands.

“hey-hey” they whispered, breaking through the chaos of your mind “hey, it's okay, you’re okay. nothings here. you’re safe. no one’s going ta hurt yeh”

You forced your eyes open, and through your blurry visions you saw Harry staring back at you with a soft smile “hey darlin’ can yeh breathe with meh?” you tried to speak but a sob ripped through your throat, you moved forward, crashing into Harry's chest and wrapping your arms around his torso. “hey hey, breathe, in-“ you felt his chest rise, and you swallowed down another sob and took a wobbly breath.

Harry continued to calm you down, soon your breath synchronizing with his “yer doin’ amazing darlin’ now, give me five things yeh can see”

You pulled back slightly from his chest, sniffing as you glanced around “um- locker, window,” a light sob choked you, but Harry just rubbed your back and continued to take deep breathes for you to follow. You glanced down slightly, seeing Harry’s red leather jacket against your shoulder “your jacket, my-my bag, and-and-the school symbol”

“good” Harry cooed, hand running up your back and fingers slipping through your hair, fingers scratching at your scalp comfortably “now name four things yeh can touch”

You looked around again, slowly feeling your body relax, and letting your headrest completely against Harry's chest “wa-water fountain, door handle, vending machine, um-jacket” Harry chuckled at the last one, but nodded.

“amazing love, name three things yeh can hear” you closed your eyes, your lip twitching as you felt your head bump up for a moment.

“your heart” you whispered, not hearing Harrys breath hitch ���birds, static”

“a-awesome” Harry sighed, shifting to sit against the wall and pulling you up further into his arms “now, two things yeh can smell”

“metal and leather” you whispered, feeling the grips of the panic attack leaving your body, mentally thanking the gods that Harry had found you.

“good, now, one thing yeh can taste”

You pushed away from Harry’s chest, opening your eyes again and looking around “um-oh! Cookies!” you chirped, leaning up a little as you spotted a bag of Oreos inside the vending machine across the hall.

“amazing job lass, are yeh okay now?” you took a deep breath and looked back at Harry, giving him a tired smile.

“better but” you could still feel the tightness in your chest and your limbs felt like lead “thank you….could you help me to my room? I’m really tired and I need to take a break from everything for a bit”

“of course,” Harry nodded, helping to your feet and grabbing your bag and slinging it over his shoulder. He wrapped his arm around your waist and pulled you into his side, letting you take your pace as he helped you to your room.

He glared at anyone you passed by, tightening his grip on your waist and even snapping his teeth at Chad as he sneered at you and Harry together. You were too tired to pay attention to anything though, sighing in relief as your room appeared around the corner. Harry dug your key from your bag and quickly unlocked your room, holding onto your hand tightly as you walked into your room and towards your bed.

He released your hand as your knees hit the edge of your bed and you flopped onto the sheets, blowing out a harsh breath as he ruffled his hair.

“so yeh all good?” he asked again, tilting his head at you, you lifted your head and gave a small nod.

“I will be, thank you, Harry”

He gave a grin and walked over to you, kneeling beside your bed “I've got yer back darlin’ get some rest, and I’ll get yer homework from our classes kay?”

“okay” you whispered, flopping your head back on your bed, feeling your face heat up again as Harry leaned over and pressed a kiss to your head “um-Harry?”

“well talk about it when yer right of head love, see yeh later” he stood and walked out of the room, locking your door and tossing the key on your dresser. He smiled at you and closed the door, his heavy footsteps quickly walking away from your room.

You pressed your fingers gently to the place Harry's lips were moments ago, feeling the heat in your face reaching your ears and stretching down your neck.

‘was-he-a kiss?’ you thought, sitting up and staring at the door. ‘he-wow’

You stared at the door for a moment longer before you kicked off your shoes and just crawled under your covers, smiling as you thought back to his kind words and soft lips.

You closed your eyes and took a couple of deep breaths, forcing down the thoughts that said Harry was only being friendly, you could bear to let yourself dream for a bit.

-

Harry sighed, flipping through the multiple sheets of homework he held in his hands, pursing his lips as he thought back to (y/n), something had set her off to have such an intense panic attack. He was just glad he knew how to calm someone down from it after helping the smee twins through them after so many years.

He looked to his right as Jane passed by him, he reached out grabbing her shoulder, she jumped slightly, looking at him with wide eyes.

“uh, hey Harry? What's up?”

“I came across (y/n) havin’ a panic attack like-two hours ago? Any idea-woah!” Jane’s eyes widened and she grabbed onto his shirt.

“what?! Is she okay? Did-“ Harry quickly covered the girl's mouth.

“she’s fine Jane, she’s in ‘er room now restin’ I just wanted to know if this is a recurring thing or that was the first time it happened”

“recurring” Jane sighed, wrenching Harry's hand from her mouth “she has an anxiety disorder, that’s why she's always so quiet, doesn’t like to draw attention to herself and all that”

Harry furrowed his brows, fixing his bag on his shoulder “ah, is that why she’s all blushy ‘round me then? All those thoughts goin’ wild n stuff?”

“nah” Jane waved her hand nonchalantly “She's just crushing on you….oop didn’t mean to say that!” Jane looked back at him with wide eyes.

A small smile grew on Harry's face “she-she has a crush on meh?”

“I-uh-fudge, yes” Jane sighed, slapping her palm against her forehead “dangit she told me about it in confidence and I just blurt it out like tha-wait!” Harry patted Jane's shoulder with a chuckle and pushed her aside a bit.

“Thanks, Jane~ I gotta go!” Harry took off towards leaving a confused Jane in the hall.

“wait what are you going to do!” Jane yelled, huffing as no response came back “…OH!” Jane squealed, hopping in place. Harry liked (y/n) back! Ohhhh this was going to be so cute!

She had to tell the VK girls, Evie and Dizzy would die!

-

You sighed, smoothing down the front of your oversized hoodie and further curling into a ball on your bed, sporadically clicking the attack button on your gaming device as you fought one of the hardest mini-bosses of the game.

“come one-, die you-gah!” you seethed, cursing as your weapon broke “again?! goddammit!”

“I have’ta say, it’s weird to hear yeh curse darlin’” you screeched, halfway tossing your switch across the room, the device bouncing off your bed and landing on the pile of pillows on the floor.

You looked towards your door, pressing a hand to your chest as you let out a long sigh “Harry! Geez I’m still calming down from earlier, don’t barge in like that!”

Harry winced, closing the door behind him “sorry love, I brought yer homework and some food fer yeh” he held up his bag and a white plastic bag holding a box of food.

“oh” you felt your face heat up as he stepped closer to your bed “thank you”

“no problem darlin’” he purred, setting the bag of food next to you and tossing his bag on your desk. “so~” he started, leaning closer to you with a sly smirk on his face “I heard something really~ interesting on meh way here~”

You rose your brow and flipped open the box of food, humming at the still steaming (preferred lunch).

“little Janey said yer crushin on meh~” your entire body stopped, it felt like a bucket of ice water had been dumped on you “and before yeh freak out with all those thoughts yeh get” he leaned up, pressing a soft kiss to your cheek “it's not one-sided darlin’ “

You felt your brain short circuit, unable to think ANYTHING as you stared at harry. He chuckled softly and gave you a toothy smirk, his eyes crinkling as he looked at you like he never had before. “Cat got yer tongue love?.I’ll let yeh process it all, but just know, I do like yeh back, and I would jump off a cliff sooner than hurt yeh….” He kissed your cheek again and stood, stopping as you suddenly reached out and grabbed his arm.

“um-I-, I just wanted to say it myself” you muttered, tugging him back down to your side “I-I-I” you stuttered, feeling your face heat up as harry smiled at you with that adorable crinkled nose “ilikeyou” you gasped, grabbing his collar and pulling him towards you, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek and quickly falling back on your bed, pulling your pillow over your face and screeching into it.

Harry just chuckled and patted your knee “like yeh too darlin’ I’ll see yeh later love, okay?”

You just let out some sort of garbled response into your pillow. “okay, text me if yeh want me ta bring yeh dinner” he quickly took his back, emptied your homework from it, and left the room, locking the door behind him.

You let out a huff as you chucked your pillow at the wall, feeling a grin blooming on your face. You squealed, patting your cheeks to try to make the heat escape from it.

“he likes me back” you breathed, giggled erupting from your chest “he likes me back!!!!!” fits of laughter overtook you as you wiggled happily in your bed “he likes me!!!!”

Harry bit his lip to hide his grin as he listened to your mini-celebration “She's so adorable” he chuckled, fixing his bag and walking off, whistling a little tune as he did so.

-end-

permtaglist

@queer-cosette​ @sephiralorange​

@lunanight2012​ @daughter-of-the-stars11​

@musicarose​ @random-thoughts-003​

@remembered-license​ @imtryingthisout​

@verboetoperee​

[statticscribbles]

Strongest

Summary: Sweet Pea/Plus Sized!Reader; Past Jughead/Reader Request: Using the song “Strongest by Ina”? Reader got pregnant w/ jughead’s daughter during senior year but jug doesn’t feel ready for a kid/ is still with Betty ( he used reader as a rebound) and sweet pea is there to love her ?

TW: discussions of abortion

You’re shaking when you lean over the toilet to vomit, you can hear someone come in and freeze hoping they’ll just use the bathroom and leave. “Y/N you in here?” You swallow grimacing and stepping from the bathroom stall looking nervously at Toni. “You okay?” She watches as you wash your hands before rinsing your mouth out. “Yeah, just uh, stomach bug.” Toni’s hand grips your shoulder. “Really? You didn’t even eat anything yet, you were just saying how you were starving.” “You don’t need food for your stomach to puke.” You shrug trying your best not to panic.

“Go home then; I’m pretty sure everyone will understand; especially if you puke more. Nobody’s going to want to get that. Not before the game.” You nod retreating from the bathroom to grab your bag and head home. “Hey Y/N where are you going?” “Home; don’t feel well.” You offer a half smile to Jughead who nods. “I can stop by later if you want; I wanna talk anyways.” You shake your head. “I’ll let you know if I feel better.” You’re walking home, feeling the nausea ebb off, and you debating stopping into the shop to get pain medication. You reason it’s probably just your period, and then the panic sinks in your gut that you should have gotten it two and a half weeks ago. “Shit.” You hiss deciding you’ll have to go to the store but not for the pain meds.

You’re surprised at how much your luck holds, the shop keeper doesn’t glance beyond the leather jacket, and your mom isn’t home from work which leaves you to chug five glasses of water and shiver in fear on the couch until you can pee on the stick that’s hopefully not going to change anything. You’re pretty sure this is what hell is and the four minutes is almost up when your luck runs out and you hear a knock followed by the door opening. “Y/N?” Toni calls out and you want to vomit remembering you left the box on the couch. “Listen I won’t bother you but Fangs said he saw you in the pharmacy looking freaked out and he panicked cause he thought you were gonna puke but when he went up to ask if you wanted a ride you were gone so he called me to.” You cringe as she sucks in a breath. The door opens and she finds you curled next to the toilet hiding from the stick that’s balanced on the edge of the sink. “I can’t look.” You speak muffled between your knees.  You hear her wince and you don’t even need to look to know it’s positive.

“Fuck. How do you think Jones’ll feel knowing he’s gonna end up like his dad?” Toni stays quiet, you can hear her moving the test, and crouching in front of you. “He’s back with Betty.” You sigh dropping your shoulder and pulling in a shaking breath. “Well it can’t-“ “If you say worse-“ You hiss. “Hey Toni is Y/N; oh shit.” You can hear someone grabbing the box and turning it over to read it. “Well at least it’s not my fucking mom.” “Oh hey Sweet Pea-“ Toni winces as you start to cry. “Come on Y/N maybe your mom didn’t see anything.” Toni assures you as she helps you stand and tucks the stick in her pocket.

You manage to keep a small amount of luck, Toni able to pass of your tears and general upset-ness as being sick; and her presence as worry and a reminder about the game coming up. It ends abruptly when your mom leaves as soon as she came rushing to get to her second job.

“So; uh, how’d it go?” Sweet Pea asks and Toni glares at him. “How the fuck do you think it went Pea?” “So that’s a yes then?” You turn away from them and retreat to the couch shoving your bag and the pillows to the floor curling into the side of the couch and tugging the blanket over yourself. “Maybe if I just don’t eat for the next like two weeks; hah I’d actually lose weight then, bet Cheryl would let me on the Vixens. At least it won’t be noticeable for a while.” “You have time to think about it anyways. There’s that clinic in Centerville I can give you a lift if you need. Maybe you should let Jones know?” Toni prompts and you shrug.

“Why, that won’t change anything. He used me for a rebound; just until Cooper decided she wanted him back. I wasn’t anything to him and he won’t care.” “You can say it’s mine.” Sweet Pea speaks and you and Toni stare at him. “What?” “Say it’s mine; everyone already assumes I sleep around; that way you don’t have to date me if you don’t want; no one would be surprised. I mean; not being bad, we’re Southsider’s I think they expect it to be fair. It’s just an option.” He holds his hands up nervously. “That’s really Sweet. Thank you.” “Just living up to my name.” He laughs a little and you can’t help but smile. Toni sighs. “I’m gonna bounce; we still on for Pop’s later?” You nod and she grins.

“You want me to leave?” You turn to Sweet Pea who’s ripping up the box and soaking it in water. “What are you doing?” “Soaking the paint off; this way when you throw it away it’s too soggy to read.” “Oh.” You curl your hand around his arm, and he sets the cup aside as you lean on him. “Thank you.” You can feel yourself crying. “It’s no problem; anything for you Y/N.” You laugh a little. “What?” He arches and eyebrow. “I don’t think you’ll be saying that in a few months.” “Do you need anything?” “Right now?” “Well yeah but also in general. You can stay with me if your mom kicks you out. You don’t need to worry about that.”

“Why are you being so nice to me; you don’t need to pretend; I’ll be fine on my own; I can manage. Really it’s sweet of you to pretend to be the dad for cover but it’s okay. You don’t need to do anything.” “I know; I want to. I want to help.” “Why?” “I like you, as in romantically.” He keeps his eyes on the ground. “You like me? Me? When you could have anyone else in the entire town?” “Yes.” He looks up grinning. “Is that a problem?” You shake your head and he steps closer. “Good; can I kiss you?” He asks pulling your face closer. “I’d be insulted if you didn’t.”

It’s been a week of keeping quiet before Toni looks guiltily at when everyone is sitting in Pop’s; you don’t catch on until you see the booth arrangement; Toni’s on the edge, next to Cheryl; who’s next to Veronica, then Archie, then Betty, and then Jughead. You’re about to ask Sweet Pea to sit next to him when Cheryl smiles and waves you in. “You’re smaller so Sweet Pea can hang off the edge.” “Y/N you doing okay? You look like you lost weight.” Betty asks and you shrug. “I’ve been stressed lately.” “Stress isn’t good.” Fangs trails off as you watch Toni glare at him; you know Sweet Pea told him something of your situation. “Fangs you’ve been staring at Sweet Pea since he got here. What do you know?” “Nothing.” He stutters and Toni and Sweet Pea shake their heads in unison. “Fangs.” Jughead pressures and you can see when Fangs’ folds. “Sweet Pea knocked some girl up.” He mumbles and everyone freezes.

“Fangs I told you not to say anything!” “They deserve to know they’re your friends!” “This is my business, y’all don’t need to be involved.” “Yes we do!” Veronica fires back and Sweet Pea glares. “Did I knock you up? No I didn’t the only people this needs to be between are me and the girl; the rest of you can fuck off.” “No; Sweet Pea as leader of the Serpent’s I have;”

“You ain’t got shit Jones; you ain’t got no reason to poke your nose in my business not when you went of and how did you put it to fang’s and me? Ah yes; slummed it with the Serpent’s while Betty wasn’t talking to you? Hm? Did all those hook-ups you had after you drank just like your dad escape your mind?” You can see the way Jughead’s eyes flicker to you and you can see him swallow. “Fuck this.” He hisses standing and leaving; you’re surprised when Betty doesn’t follow him. More surprised when you find yourself running to catch up to him as he storms off. “I’m pissed you didn’t tell me you were with Sweet Pea when we hooked up; it’s a little rude to both of us.” “I wasn’t.” “So now you have to deal with some random chick he knocked up trying to ruin your relationship; both of you are in the Serpent’s I’m not having that shit interfering with the rest of us.” He laughs and you shake your head. “What?” You swallow not saying anything just shrugging. “Y/N what the fuck is going on.” “I’m with Sweet Pea but he didn’t knock me up.” You retreat as Betty emerges.

“Jones looks like he’s gonna keel over.” Sweet Pea mumbles into your ear and you try not to laugh. “I bet Betty is pissed at him.” You comment and everyone nods. “She’s going to ‘have words with him’ as she put it; are we taking bets on if they break-up or not.” “Come on Toni that’s a shit thing to do.” Archie comments and she grins back. “You’re just pissed cause you lost the last time we bet.” “Shut up.” Archie laughs and you sigh, surprised at how quickly everything returns to normal.

Everyone at school knows; you don’t see the point in trying to hide it; nobody expects any different from a Serpent; although you have to admit having Toni and by extension Cheryl to back you up means no one actually says what they’re thinking about you. Jughead asks to talk to you; he and Betty reconnected yet again; Archie lost fifteen bucks once more and complains to both Ronnie and you about it. “What do you need.” He glares at you; despite having been the one to ask to talk. “You’ll have to be more specific.” You fake a smile. “For the kid; as leader of the Serpent’s I have a responsibility to make sure you and said kid are taken care of and-“ “Leader of the Serpent’s that’s what you’re going with?” You scoff and he shakes his head. “I didn’t ask for this.” “And you think I did?”

“You didn’t do anything to change it.” He snaps and you sigh. “Listen; I don’t need shit from you and your “I’m leader of the Serpents” crap you’re spewing; either you take actual responsibility or just stay the fuck away from me. You have Betty to deal with I’m not going to drag you from how perfect and wonderful she is.” You mock and snap. “I can handle it. I don’t need you.” You expect him to hesitate to ask if you need anything. Instead he just nods. “Good. Keep it that way. Betty better not find out.” “Is that a threat?” “If she doesn’t find out then it won’t be.” He stalks from the room.

“You okay Y/N? You seem kinda shakey?” Sweet Pea snaps you from the daze you were in. “Yeah just tired.” You try to shrug off Jughead’s words but they linger in the back of your mind making you tremor slightly. “Come on. Let’s head home.” You nod letting Sweet Pea grab your bag. “So?” He prompts and you let him pull you against him as he spoons you on the couch; one of his hands draped over the bump on your stomach. “What did Jones want?” “To threaten me; well imply a threat; he doesn’t want Betty to find out.” Sweet Pea narrows his eyes. “I’m pretty sure her and half the school know; little hard to hide it yeah?” His hand moves lightly upwards to turn your face to kiss him. “Not that; just the whole dad thing.” You shrug and Sweet Pea sighs into your hair. “Everyone assumes it’s mine; there’s no need to stress; even Fangs doesn’t know, just in case he lets it slip.”

“I’m not worried about them it’s just shit Jughead just used me for a quick fuck and he gets to walk away from all this; and I’d be the bitch if I said anything.” You sniffle and Sweet Pea sits up slightly wiping your tears. “I know baby, I’m sorry he’s being such a dick about everything; it really is shit.” He pulls the throw blanket over you as he goes to answer a knock on his door. “Hey Sweet Pea is Y/N around?” “What do you want Jones?” “Just to clarify some things we talked about earlier is all.” “Oh you mean when you threatened her?” You peer from the edge of the couch keeping out of sight of the door.

“Listen Sweet Pea I don’t expect you to understand but-“ You can’t see anything as he closes the door. You can hear, surprised no one else seems to hear their shouting match. “You don’t expect me to understand what? You playing pretend at being a good leader for the Serpents? You threatening my girl? You running off and hiding after being an irresponsible fuck boy? I get it, I understand perfectly why you don’t want this getting out; can’t have the leader of the Serpent’s not stepping up and taking care of what’s his can we? But you need to understand something Jones; you don’t get to say shit; you don’t get to have anything to do with this beyond what Y/N needs help with; because if you don’t I’ll go straight to Alice; and I’ll tell her exactly what you did behind her daughters back; before you two had officially broken up no less.” “You wouldn’t-“ “You wanna test that out?” “It goes against Serpent laws for you to-“ You jump when something hits the side of the trailer.

“Serpent law states we protect are own; what the fuck you doing to protect Y/N huh? Running off with some Northsider who likes to use us when she gets in trouble? Allowing one of our own to get killed cause you couldn’t offer him sanctuary after he got out of prison? What about Fangs; kicking him out cause he’s trying to help his mom; you gonna do that to Y/N? You need us to follow you; but if you think you’re the one directing us.” You can hear something thud and you realize Sweet Pea had hoisted Jughead against the side of the trailer moments ago. You don’t move and don’t say anything straining to hear if they’re talking more or not. “What happened?” You ask when Sweet Pea walks back in.

“Nothing Jones just wanted to see if you were okay; said he was sorry about the threat earlier.” “Oh that’s good then.” You don’t say anything as Sweet Pea lifts you and moves you against his chest as you return to spooning before the interruption. “I love you.” You don’t say anything else and keep your eyes straight ahead waiting for a response. You can feel both you and Sweet Pea untense as he smiles responding. “I love you too.” “You have another check up tomorrow, get some rest okay babe?” “Okay.” You nod; not commenting on how when he wraps his arms around you one automatically drifts to protect your stomach.

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[blackhakumen]

Mini Fanfic #790: Kind of Went Too Far. (RWBY)

12:45 p.m. at the Sidewalks of Mistral.......

Sun: (Starts Panting by a Nearby Pole Alongside with Oscar) Hey....('Pants') Oscar....('Pants') Do you think....('Pants') anyone noticed.....('Pants') that we're long ('Pants').....gone ('Pants')....already? (Starts Wiping the Sweat Off his Forehead)

Oscar: Maybe?....('Pants') Sort of?.... ('Pants') I really don't know at this point to be honest....(Starts Wiping the Sweat Off his Forehead as Well) Let's just hope none of them followed us all the way here....

Sun: Yeah......

?????: ('Ahem')

The duo turns and see Whitley standing behind them while crossing his arms.

Whitley: Do I even wanna know you two are up to right now?

Sun: Oh. (Smiles Brightly at the Youngest Schnee) Hey, Whitley. Oscar and I were just running away from an inevitable doom back at the house.

Whitley: (Raised an Eyebrow in Confusion) Pardon?

Oscar: ('Sigh') We were trying runaway from Yang and possibly even Ruby's wrath after Emerald made a comeback on their mom, Summer.

Sun: Who's not here with us in the land of the living..... Doesn't help the fact that Neptune laughed throughout the whole thing. So....here we are.

Whitley: I see.....Well, I can't say I blame those two for being crossed with her. Throwing insults on the dead does seem pretty distasteful if you ask me.

Oscar: ('Sigh') Tell me about it......But anyways, what are you doing out here, Whitley? Taking a scroll around town?

Whitley: Not necessary. (Points at a Building in Front of Him) I was simply going to the café on the other side of the road. (Smiles a Little) I heard their coffee was almost to die for.

Sun: (Smiles Brightly at the Café) Ah dude! You're going to the Mistral Café? Their coffee, expressos and frappuccinos are the best in the town!

Oscar: (Smiles Softly) I have been wanting to go there for a while now...

Whitley: (Sighs While Putting on a Deadpinned Look on his Face) I take it you two simpletons want to tag along, don't you?

Sun: Uh. Correction. Oscar and I are Huntsmen. (Went Back to Smiling) And hell yeah we wanna tag along!

Oscar: (Smiles a Bit Sheepishly) If you don't mind any company that is....

Whitley: ('Sighs a Bit in Defeat') I suppose I don't mind.....But you two are paying for your own drinks.

Oscar: (Simply Shrugs) Fine by us.

Sun: Yup.

Few Minutes Later Outside of the Mistral Café.......

Oscar: (Smiles Brightly at a Cup of Coffee He Just Drank on his Side of the Table) You were right, Sun. This has to be the best coffee I've ever tasted.

Sun: Right? (Smiles Relaxingly While on the Other Side of the Table) Told ya this place has the best coffee in town.

Whitley: (Nodded in Agreement While Sitting on the Middle of Table, Enjoying his Cup of Expresso) I agree. This Expresso is magnificent in it's own right. It might rival that to Klein's coffee.

Sun: Uhhhh....Who exactly is-

Oscar: (Turns to Sun) He's the Schnee Family's Butler, Sun. Or at least I....think he still is?

Whitley: He isn't really our Butler anymore. But he does seem to spend a lot more time with mother as of late.

Oscar: Oh, really? Cool. (Turns to Whitley) How's Mrs. Schnee been doing lately if you don't mind me asking.

Whitley: She's doing fairly well for the most part. Still adjusting to the outside world and whatnot. (Smiles a Little) We started to spending a lot more time together than before actually. Speaking of which, she wanted to if you and the others would like to accompany us on a trip one of these days.

Oscar: (Smiles Softly) I have ask everyone else about it first, but other than that, it's sound like a plan alr-

Emerald: (Came Out of Nowhere Slams the Table While Glaring at Oscar With a Black Eye, Causing the Boy Get Startled) ('SLAM') Oscar, you traitorous little shit!

Neptune: (Frowns Over Dramatically at Sun While Having a Black Eye of his Own) What the heck, man!? You guys seriously left in there alone!?

Oscar: Oh! Uh....(Chuckles Awkwardly at the Two Black Eyes Friends) H-Heyyy, Emerald..... Neptune....I uhh...Take it that....Yang has..... already pulverized the both of you.... didn't she?

Emerald: Yeah. She did. The girl literally tackled us from the other side of the room and gave us both black eyes. I couldn't even reacted to all of that in time!

Neptune: It took us five and half minutes to escape the house. And once we noticed that you guys were missing in there, decided to look for the both of you.

Emerald: And now we found out that you two have been here enjoying your little coffees this entire time while we suffered! The hell was that all about!?

Neptune: (Already in Comical Tears) I thought we were all bros man!

Oscar: ('Sigh') Look, guys, we didn't mean to abandon you two like that or anything.

Sun: Yeah. We were just scared of get wrapped up into Yang's fury. Sooooo....we bailed. And besides, in all honestly, you guys kinda had that one coming.

Emerald/Neptune: WHAT!?

Oscar: I'm sorry, but I'm with Sun on this one. (Turns to Emerald) Emerald, you flatted out insulted Ruby and Yang's mom in front them and everybody else in the room.

Sun: (Points at Neptune) And you laughed through all of that.

Oscar: Like seriously, Emerald, who would intentionally ask someone what shoes their parents was wearing while they're in a casket!?

Sun: Your laugh sounds like a literally hyena, dude. I'm sorry.

Oscar: And then you went and insult their grandma by saying she doesn't have any knees to pray to Ozpin or do some kind of....Double-Dutch or whatever!

Sun: Like, I've never once, in my entire life, ever heard you laugh like that. Hell, I can even ask Sage and Scarlet about this right now and I can guarantee you that they say the same.

Emerald: Okay, so maybe I did went a little too far on the mom and grandma comeback, but she started the whole thing first with the stupid shoes insult! How else was I supposed to get her back after that!?

Oscar: Make fun of her cape and Crescent Rose instead! I dunno! But what I DO know is that you NEVER disrespect anyone's dead relative! Even if you do wanna use it for a comeback!

Neptune: I didn't mean to laugh out loud like that. I had no idea those Burns would be THAT funny!

Sun: Look, man, I'm all for hearing a well deserved Burns as much as the next guy, but even I know I shouldn't laugh to one that involves something personal.

Oscar: You're already like a sister to me, Emerald, and I know you been through a lot before I met you, but if you really wanna makes amends with Ruby and the others, you can't be doing stuff like this.

Emerald: ('Sighs in Defeat') Yeah..... You're right.....(Turns to Oscar With a bit if a Regretful Look on her Face) I'm sorry, Oscar.....

Oscar: ('Sigh') It's fine, Emerald. I was never mad at you to begin with. But you know I'm not the one who you should be apologizing to, right?

Emerald: (Sighs While Giving Oscar a Simple Nod in Agreement) Yeah....

Sun: (Starts Ruffling the Top of Neptune's Hair) That goes for you too, bro. You need to apologize to Ruby and Yang for laughing like a hyena.

Neptune: ('Sighs in Defeat') I know...... (Glares at Sun) AND I'M NOT HYENA!!!

Emerald: (Gives Neptune a Deadpinned Look on her Face) You so did sound like one.

Neptune: (Immediately Turns to Emerald) WHO'S SIDE ARE YOU ON RIGHT NOW!?

Whitley: Once a hyena, always a hyena I suppose....(Continues Drinking his Expresso)

Neptune: (Turns to Whitley) YOU WANNA FREAKING GO, TWERP!!!?

Oscar chuckles lightly at the whole scene before he felt two hands covering his both his eyes.

????: (Giggles Softly) Guuuuess who!~

Oscar: Oh gee, I dunno~ (Starts Smirking Playfully) Is that you, Ozpin?

????: (Starts Snickering) Yeah, right! Like Oz could ever pull off a cute voice like yours truly.

The person remove two hands from Oscar's eyes, revealing herself to be none other than Ruby Rose while smiling brightly.

Oscar: (Smiles Softly at the Girl) Hey there, stranger. What are you doing out here?

Ruby: (Pouts at Oscar While Hugging Him) Looking for you, dumb-dumb!~ You and Sun had everyone back home worried.

Oscar: Even Nora?

Ruby: Especially Nora. She's already forming a search party for you as we speak.

Oscar: ('Sigh') Oh no....(Gets Himself Up From his Seat) Guess we have get back home then. (Turns to Sun) You're coming with us, Sun?

Sun: (Smiles Relaxingly at the Duo) Nah man. You two kiddos can go on without me. If they ask where I'm at, tell 'em I'm having coffee.

Oscar/Ruby: 'Kay!

Emerald: (Immediately Turns to Ruby) W-Wait! Ruby, about what happened earlier, I-

Ruby: (Immediately Held her Hand Up at Emerald While Giving her a Dark Glare) Not now.

Emerald: (Eyes Widened at the Sudden Glare Before Sighing in Defeat While Looking Down on the Ground in Regret) Right........

Ruby: (Turns Back to Oscar With a Soft Smile While Gently Grabbing his Hand) Let's go, Oscar.

Oscar: Oh! O-Okay. (Waves Goodbye at Everyone While Walking Back Hime With Ruby) See you guys later!

Sun: Later, guys!

Neptune: Bye!!

Sun: (Turns to Emerald) You doing okay, Emerald?

Emerald: (Sighs Once More While Slowly Slouching Down on Oscar's Former Seat) Yeah.... I'm just..... Feeling like I'm back to square one in all of this....

Whitley: It could've worse really.....Yang could've suplexed you and Neptune in front of everyone to see.

Emerald/Sun/Neptune: (Gives Whitley Confused Looks on Each of their Faces) ....................

Whitley: My mother suplexed a man for insulting Weiss during that time we all thought her and the others were dead. (Continues Sipping on his Expresso)

@keyenuta

@ma-lemons

@maripr

@hyperfixation-hideout

@albion-93

@roz-ani

@miki-13

[danversxluthor]

One Step Forward, Two Steps Back  (Pt 2 of Seizing Life)

--------------------------------

As Loraine embraces her new freedom, her headaches get worse and new symptoms come to light. Lo wants her life to be normal but she can’t hide the obvious from her moms.

---------------------------------

Loraine enjoyed her new found freedom over the next few weeks. She was able to take the bus to school again and walk around the city on her own. She even got to spend her afternoons alone at home before her moms got home from work. It was a small thing, but it was the little pieces of freedom in her day to day life that she missed the most. 

Today Loraine was homework free, a rare occasion given she went to a school hell bent on keeping students busy in preparation for high profile careers in demanding fields. Even though Loraine was exhausted, she decided to take the opportunity to make a stop at L-Corp to see what her mom was up to in the lab. She loved visiting L-Corp and seeing and playing around with the prototypes.  

“Hi Mom!” Loraine greeted as she walked into the lab. Lena was focused and looking through a microscope. “Whatcha working on?” Loraine sat on one of the lab stools opposite Lena. The teen’s body had been feeling a bit achy lately, possibly a side effect of going out and being more active thanks to her new found freedom.  

“A new biologic…” Lena was still focused on the microscope. “Its part of the cancer research I was telling you about.” Lena finally looked up. 

“As much as it is always a wonderful surprise to see you Lo, shouldn’t you be at home finishing your homework?” Lena raised a warning eyebrow. She couldn’t really be made at Loraine for visiting, but she felt it was her parental duty to instill some boundaries. Lena also didn’t want Loraine staying up too late, she had noticed Loraine seemed tired a lot more lately. 

“Finished it during lunch.” Loraine beamed with triumph. “Plus I haven't visited in awhile and figured it was time to see what you're doing to my future empire.” Loraine often joked with Lena about taking over the company. 

“Your empire, huh? Nice try, but you’ll have to earn it first Loraine.” 

“I know, I know…. Just making a prediction”  

“Come here I want to show you something R&D just sent.” Loraine followed Lena over to another lab table where a small cellphone sized device was displayed along with a slew of other engineering tools. “It's a therma projection radar. It can scan a person and project health risks for vital signs.” Loraine picked up a calibration tool and was fiddling around with it as Lena explained the science. Aparatenly the prototype was under performing and Lena was going to make some updates to it herself before considering any further manufacturing options. 

Clang clang. The tool that had been in Loraine’s hand crashed to the floor. Lena immediately stopped and looked at Loraine. 

“Lo, you have to be more careful.” Loraine quickly picked up the tool and set it back down on the table gently. 

“Sorry” Loraine apologized to Lena, hoping the tool wasn't anything custom made.

“It's ok,” Lena looked at Loraine trying to see if there were any signs of a potential seizure. Loraine noticed Lena’s concerned gaze.

“Mom, I’m fine. Just a little clumsy.” Loraine reassured and sat back down on the lab stool trying to conceal a yawn.

“And tired.” Lena added. 

“Ok, clumsy and tired.” Loraine conceded and looked down. She hated when her mom got overly concerned about her. Even though she knew it was her mom’s job to be worried about her, Loraine couldn’t help feeling like a burden.

“Are you sleeping ok at night?” Lena asked as she started packing away her research. 

“Yeah, I get plenty of sleep. It’s just been a long week that’s all.” Loraine tried to brush it off.

“Just let us know if you aren’t feeling well sweetie.” 

“I’m fine.” Loraine rolled her eyes and gave a heavy sigh.

“Ok.” Lena raised her hands in surrender not wanting to push the teen too much.

The pair headed off home in Lena’s private car shortly after. Even though Lena had more work, she wanted to give Loraine the chance to relax and maybe take a nap before dinner. Lena even got an email from Loraine’s science teacher expressing concern over the fact that Loraine fell asleep during his class. 

The ride was relatively quiet. Lena went through emails on her phone and Loraine just stared out the window trying to stay awake. The teen had had a dully headache for the past several days and it was starting to turn into a pounding headache. When they were finally home and in the garage, Loraine moved rather slowly to exit the car, her headache making her feel off balance. Every movement felt like a lot of work given how tired and achy Loraine was. Lena was out of the car and already waiting for Loraine near the door, wondering what was taking so long. Loraine stood up from the car, but the ground felt strange and unsteady. Loraine braced herself on the car and squeezed her eyes shut, the unsteady feeling made her feel slightly nauseated. Loraine tried to take a step but stumbled forward and fell to her knees. The driver rushed over to help Loraine up as Lena did the same. 

“Lo, are you ok?” Lena asked holding Loraine’s shoulders.

Loraine nodded and gave a small embarrassed smile. “Thanks Felix. I’m fine, really.” Despite her words Loraine’s voice seemed a bit shaky. Felix made sure Lena and Loraine were safely inside before taking off. 

Loraine had minor scrapes on her knees with minimal blood and mere scratches on her hands, nothing to be concerned about. Loraine’s movement still felt awkward and slow which she blamed on being tired. 

“Let's take care of those scrapes.” Lena walked toward the bathroom and looked back to see if Loraine was coming too. She noticed that Loraine was moving slowly and with greater care, as if she were afraid of falling once more. The truth was, Loraine still felt unsteady with each step and she just wanted to make it from point A to point B without another fall. 

Lena had Loraine sit on the small chair in front of her vanity as she kneeled and cleaned and bandaged Loraine’s knees and hands. Loraine was too tired to react to the sting of the antiseptic cream. When Lena finished up, she remained on her knees looking into her tired daughter’s eyes and asked once more. 

“Sweetheart , are you sure you’re ok?” Lena waited for Loraine to respond, but the teen just looked away. “Its ok if you’re not. I just want to know so I can help.” Lena took Loraine’s hand in her own and noticed the teen’s hand was shaking. All Lena wanted was to comfort and reassure her daughter. When Loraine finally looked back it was with tears trickling down her face. 

“I’m just really tired.” Loraine admitted quietly. She didn't have the energy to explain how the ground felts funny and besides she didn't want her mom to have even more reason to worry. Lena whipped away Loraine’s tears. She was relieved Loraine was talking to her but also worried there might be more to it than exhaustion. 

“That’s alright sweetie. Why don’t we get you in bed, hm? You can rest and I’ll come wake you for dinner. How’s that?” Loraine nodded in agreement and let her mom help her up and to her room. Loraine didn't even protest at the assistance. She was too tired and unsteady to pull herself together enough to get there anyway. Lena was surprised at just how unsteady Loraine was. 

Loraine slept for a couple hours, but was still exhausted when Lena retrieved her for dinner. 

“Mm not hungry.” Loraine mumbled into her pillow. 

“Sweetheart you have to have a little something to eat with your meds.” Lena gently pulled back the covers and ran her hand up and down Loraine’s back, which always seemed to coax Loraine out of a deep slumber. Instead of leaving, Lena helped Loraine up and stayed beside her just in case Loraine needed the support. Lena was happy to see that sleep seemed to do Loraine some good as the teen made it down the stairs without a problem.  

“Grandma Eliza still wants to know if you want cinnamon rolls or blueberry muffins for Christmas breakfast Lo.” Kara looked to Loraine, waiting for the teen’s response. Loraine had been awfully quiet throughout dinner and barely touched her food. “Loraine?” Kara tried again. 

“Just weighing my options,” Loraine joked, “it's a big decision, but I’m leaning toward the muffins.” 

“Good choice, those muffins are legendary.” Kara had tried many times to bake Eliza’s recipe but it never turned out quite right.

Clank Loraine dropped her fork causing a loud reverberating noise. 

“Sorry!” Loraine quickly picked up her utensil from the floor and went to get another from the kitchen.

“That's alright sweetie. While you’re in the kitchen could you get me a glass of water?” Kara asked.

“Sure.” Loraine retrieved the water and clean fork and dinner went by as usual. Kara noticed Loraine’s hand shaking as she set the water down in front of her. She gave Lena a concerned look, but Lena was already watching her daughter’s every move. The parents silently agreed to discuss later. 

As dinner continued Loraine seemed more and more withdrawn. She altogether stopped moving and was staring blankly at her plate. Internally Loraine was entirely consumed by the throbbing of her head, so much so that she was oblivious to the conversation around her. Lena got up from her seat and went to kneel by Loraine so she was eye level with her daughter. 

“Lo, sweetie, what's going on?” Lena asked in a quiet voice. Lena knew from her extensive research on seizures that not all types of seizures involve convulsions, some can simply look like someone staring blankly and being unresponsive. 

“Hmm…” Loraine seemed to come to, “Wh… what?” Loraine was trying her hardest to focus on her surroundings now, which was still difficult with her headache.

“Are you feeling ok, Loraine?” Lena asked, still kneeling in front of Loraine. Kara was up and prepared to help in any way possible if Loraine was about to have a seizure. 

“Sorry,” Loraine looked down to her plate then back up, “I’m just a little out of it... I think I just want to lie down.” Lena looked at Loraine unconvinced. Kara made sure Loraine got into bed ok before joining Lena back downstairs. To her surprise Loraine didn't even protest at the help, the teen was too out of it to realize what was happening. 

“How is she?” Lena asked.

“She’s exhausted, maybe even coming down with the flu or something.” Kara was lost in thought and concern. “I’ve just never seen her like this. I mean sure it was bad last year, but this is different, isn't it?” Kara looks to her wife, who is on her phone typing. 

“Alex agreed to see her tomorrow to run some tests.” Lena looked up from her phone. “You’re right, this is different or…” Lena trailed off in thought but shook her head.

“What is it?” Kara asked.

“Its… what if Loraine doesn't have a seizure disorder. What if the seizures were just one symptom of something else.” Lena had done extensive research on pediatric seizure conditions as well as other conditions that caused seizures. There were a few conditions Lena was concerned may match Loraine’s current state.

[parkrstark]

dna be damned

written for @whumptober2020 day 2: kidnapping, pick who dies Even though Peter tries not to think about it, he knows Tony's favorite is Morgan. Why wouldn't she be? She's his real, biological daughter. Peter's just an intern that stuck around. But when a bad guy uses this against him, it feels even worse than he imagined. 2.k, ao3

"Keep it moving, brats. I don't have all day." The masked man behind Peter jabbed him in the back with the tip of his gun again.

Normally, this was when Peter made a quick witted response, but he couldn't. Not when he had Morgan by his side. If he said one wrong word, she got punished. He learned that the hard way when he didn't answer a question and she got slapped. 

That was the first and last time he let her get hurt. 

Peter, on the other hand, had an eye swollen shut, a bruise covering the left side of his face, and dried blood dripping from his eyebrow. 

He wasn't even Spider-Man; he was just Peter Parker picking up his little sister from school. They were snatched before he could even feel his spidey sense could go off.

That was a few hours ago, and now, they were being dragged off to another spot without even a word of what they were doing. 

Peter wasn't sure where they were going, but wherever it was, he was going to make sure that Morgan stayed by his side, unarmed. He made sure that she kept up and didn’t give the man any excuses to hurt her. 

They stopped in another room, that was much more open than the other room they were crapped in. He shoved Peter in a chair first and started tying his wrists and ankles to the chair. Peter didn’t struggle, even though he could have easily beat him. “Don’t hurt her.” 

“Oh, I won’t. As long as she behaves.” 

Morgan was too terrified to say a word. She’d been quiet since she woke up. She was strong for a 5-year-old. The man wasn’t as rough with her as he was with Peter when he tied her down. 

“Wait here.” 

Then he was out of the room, and a few minutes later, he was back with another man. This man, however he wasn’t masked, and Peter recognized him immediately. “Mr. Stark?”

Tony looked like hell. His eyes were wide and he was dressed in dirty jeans and a sweatshirt. Ever since the snap, he’d retired from being Iron Man. He could barely move his right arm anymore and the right side of his body was heavily scarred. He shouldn’t be out here getting his heart rate up. His voice shook when he spoke. “Hey, kiddos. Didn’t you remember when I told you to come right home after school? Mom needed help with dinner.” 

Tony wasn’t as good with his sarcastic remarks as he usually was, not when his children were tied to chairs. 

“Sorry, Mr. Stark--.” Peter was cut off with a quick slap. 

Tony raised his left arm. “Hey, now...no need for all that. I brought you the money. That’s all you wanted, now let them go.” 

The man laughed. “Are you really this foolish? Yes, the money does help for all of the pain you caused my family...but I’m not done.” 

“Then let’s talk it out. You and me. No need to bring my kids into this.” Tony’s voice was calm and he didn’t make any sudden movements. 

“I used to have two kids, too.” He put a hand on Peter’s shoulder and squeezed ever so slightly. “I was with them in the park during the battle of New York. They were scared and they ran...I heard them both screaming for help. I went to my daughter, thinking I could save her, and then find my son. But when I went to find him...it was too late.” 

“Okay, first of all, that was like-- a dozen years ago. I’ve honestly lost track between all of the time traveling I’ve done. And second of all, how the hell is that my fault?”

“You’re the only one left. Thor is gone, Hawkeye went crazy, Hulk is some hybrid, Captain America is gone, and Black Widow is dead.” 

Peter could see the pain in Tony’s eyes. At a time, all of them had been Tony’s family, and they were gone. “Gee, thanks for reminding me.” 

“You’re the only one left to pay. So I’ll give you a choice. Which kid are you saving?’

Tony frowned with a blink. “I’m sorry, what?”

“You get to bring one home with one you. The other stays here with me and dies.” The man started to rub Peter’s hair softly. 

“O-one of them?”

“I went home that day with one. So will you.” 

Peter’s heart started to beat wildly. He could tell by the look on Tony’s face that he wasn’t expecting this. He had no plans to get out of this. He couldn’t let Tony make this choice...or maybe...maybe Peter didn’t want to hear Tony’s answer. “Tony, take her home.” 

Tony was still reeling from the choice given. He furrowed his brow and turned to Peter. “W-What? Peter, what the hell are you talking about?”

“You need to bring Morgan home. She’s terrified. She’s a child-- leave me here. I’ll handle this.” 

“Yeah, Daddy,” the man cooed. “Bring little sissy home.” 

“I’m not leaving you here, Pete. You’re ridiculous.” Tony fidgeted on the spot, and it was so unlike Tony that it scared Peter. 

“Please. Take her and go.” 

“You’re running out of time.” The man moved his hand from Peter’s hair and pulled out a gun, pressing it against Morgan’s head. Now, she started to cry, speaking for the first time since they were taken. 

“Daddy! Please!” 

Tony took a step forward, his voice sounding choked up. “Okay! I’ll take her-- just get the fucking gun off her head!” 

“Is that your final answer? Are you choosing her?”

Tony glanced over to Peter only for a second, but it was long enough for Peter to see the anguish in them. “Y-Yes.” 

He pulled the gun away from Morgan’s head and moved it to Peter’s. “Come on then. Untie her.” 

Tony hesitated. 

“Do you want me to shoot her too?”

“No!” Then he hurried forward and fell to his knees in front of Morgan. His right hand was shaking as he tried untying the knots from her wrists. He fumbled, unable to get them undone. He cursed under his breath as Morgan continued to cry. 

“Hurry up,” he sang, digging the gun deeper into Peter’s head. 

Peter tried not to make a sound because he knew Tony was having enough trouble with Morgan. He stared ahead, focusing on the thump thump of his heart as his spidey senses screamed at him. 

Eventually, his right hand cooperated enough to untie all four knots and Morgan jumped into his arms. Tony put a hand on her back to hold her in close. “Please. Let me take him too. Please.” 

“You get one.” 

“Peter, don’t worry-- I won’t let him. Okay? Just-- just hold on.” Tony stood up with Morgan in his arms and took a step toward Peter. 

“It’s alright, Mr. Stark. Don’t worry about me. She’s your daughter...and I’m well, me. You made the right choice.” He gave him a small smile, just in case this was the last time he’d be seeing him. 

“You have five seconds to get out of here or I shoot her while she’s still in your arms.” 

“Don’t! He’s leaving!” 

“Peter,” Tony said, sounding incredibly reluctant. 

“Go, Mr. Stark!” Peter squeezed his shut so he didn’t have to look at Tony anymore. He kept them shut until he heard Tony’s feet running out of the room, and the man started laughing. 

“How does it feel knowing that you’re not Daddy’s favorite?” 

Peter tried not to believe his words. Even though Morgan was Tony’s biological child, and Peter was really just an intern that stayed around a little too often. Even though she was his baby girl. Even though he replaced Peter with Morgan and Tony loved her every moment of her life from before her first breath. Peter knew him for less years than Morgan was old-- not including those 5 years of time, at least. 

Peter felt his eyes burn at the thoughts. “He was in an impossible spot. You know more than anyone else. He made the right choice.” 

The gun clicked and Peter tensed. He could fight now. He could rip out of these shitty knots and knock the man unconscious within a minute. But why didn’t he? Why did he just sit there, thinking about how he was left, even though he told Tony to pick Morgan? He was right. She should have been saved. He could save himself if he just pulled it together and stopped feeling sorry for himself. 

Before he could let his thoughts go any more wild, there was a gunshot. 

Peter thought he pissed away his chance at escaping, but if he did, then why was he still alive? And why didn’t he feel the bullet’s entry? 

“Take that, prick.” 

That wasn’t Tony, but that was someone just as familiar. Peter glanced over his shoulder and saw Happy standing behind him with his gun still raised. Then he looked down at the ground where the man was lying unconscious. 

“Did you…?”

“Kill him?” Happy asked, walking closer. “No. It’s nonlethal. Kinda like a tranq, but it’s more of a pellet than a dart. Hurts like a bitch. Wanted to kill him but something tells me you’d have a problem with that.” 

“I thought…” 

Happy walked around the chair, kneeled down, and started to untie the ropes. “You thought he came in alone? No backup? I know Rhodey is usually his Starsky, but I called shotgun.” 

Peter was speechless, trying to calm his heart down enough to realize he was alive. Tony may have chosen Morgan, but he was alive. 

Happy lifted his chin up gently so he could get a good look at the side of his face. “They got you pretty good, huh?”

“You would have laughed at his form,” Peter said in a small voice. 

That startled a laugh from Happy. “Oh, yeah, kid?” Peter nodded his head as he stood up and Happy immediately helped him up. “Easy, kiddo.”

“Where’s Morgan? Is she okay?’

“She’s fine.” Happy shook his head. “You know, sometimes, you should worry about yourself too.” 

Peter could walk on his own, but he liked the comfort of Happy supporting him too much to let him go. So he leaned against him as they walked out of the warehouse and was met with blinding lights from the police and ambulance all waiting nearby. He didn’t even get a second to let his senses adjust to his surroundings before he was being engulfed in a hug. 

Happy laughed and took a step back, “Hey, Tony.” 

Tony didn’t pay attention to Happy, he was too focused on Peter. He cupped Peter’s cheeks, and Peter could feel his right hand shaking. “Peter.”��

“Mr. Stark, where’s Morgan?”

“She’s fine. She’s with Pepper.” His eyes scanned over Peter’s body. “Are you okay? That gunshot-- were you hit?”

“No. It was Happy. I’m fine.” Peter held onto Tony’s wrists. He never thought he’d get a chance to see him again. 

“I was so scared. I thought I lost you again. Don’t ever pull that shit. Never again.” Tony moved his hands to pull him into a hug. “I’m sorry.”

Peter immediately shook his head. He didn’t want to hear this apology. “You don’t need to.” 

“I do. I need you to understand that I would never choose one over the other if I didn’t know Happy was in the other room waiting.” 

Peter swallowed around the lump in his throat. “She’s your daughter. It’s okay.” 

Tony pulled back and looked him in the eyes. “And you’re my son. DNA be damned. Morgan is my baby, but you’re my baby too. So don’t make me ever live a nightmare like that again.” 

Peter couldn’t help his small smile. “Really?” Tony huffed, and gave him a small smile of his own. “Don’t make me repeat it. I may have some experience with being a dad, but I still get hives.” 

Peter hugged him tightly, hiding his face in Tony’s neck. “I love you too, Mr. Stark.” 

“Yeah, yeah...just keep hugging me, squirt.”

[mercy-burning]

Your Favorite — Part 1

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader Summary: When Y/N comes home from college for the summer to meet her mom's new boyfriend, she finds herself in a rather tough spot when she can’t stop thinking about him— And it seems he feels the same... Category: SMUT (18+) Content: Adults w/ age gap, masturbation (female and male), minor exhibitionism kink, oral sex (male receiving), penetrative sex, breeding kink (kinda? i think? 😅) Word Count: 7.3k (do you see now why I had to make it a miniseries? alsdjfdk)

PART 1 | PART 2 | PART 3 | MASTERLIST

DISCLAIMER: In this story, Spencer is dating Y/N’s mom while also having a sexual relationship with the reader herself. Because of that, there are obvious undertones of cheating, alongside some perv-y tendencies when it comes to a partner’s daughter. That being said, Spencer and Y/N’s relationship is consensual. However— If any of what I just forewarned is something that you think will make you uncomfortable while reading, please do not read! If there are any more disclaimers you think I may have missed, don’t hesitate to tell me! There is another post I made HERE with some disclaimers as well if you want to know more about what this story will entail.

NOTE: This intro is already too long, so I’ll just get this out of the way: you can find visual nsfw inspirations for this story over at @mercy-midnight, I’m working on a playlist for this story on my Spotify @/mercyburning, and I don’t know when part 2 and 3 will be out, but you can assume they’ll be here within the next few weeks.

———

JUNE 5th

I hate my mom's new boyfriend.

For the past three months she'd been telling me about this new guy who's "The One" as if "The One" hasn't been like four other guys in the past two years.

And as much as I'd love for my mom to find someone to spend the rest of her life with, I don't believe she'd ever find Mr. Perfect at this rate. Unless she spent more than a few months with them at a time before dragging me home from college for a weekend to meet them, I really don't see it happening.

It just sucks. Because every time she does this, every time I return home, I see the glimmering hope in her eyes and the diminishing spark in his, and I know. I know it won't last, and her heart will be utterly broken within the span of a few months.

I always thought maybe she just had terrible taste in men.

But this time around, when I begrudgingly walk through the door of my childhood home for the summer and see my mother clinging to a man who returns that glimmer in her eyes, I know she's picked a good one.

And I hate him.

His name is Spencer Reid, and he's a retired FBI agent who teaches full time at local colleges now.

He greets me with a bona fide, radiant smile, unlike all the others before, and it sets my insides on fire. And when we sit down for dinner, he's polite (but not in a fake way,) and he seems genuinely curious about my studies and my personality and my relationship with my mother. And when dinner is finished he offers to clean up while Mom and I settle in the living room.

I see the way he looks at me as I leave, a gentle, closed-mouth smile and eyes that linger a little too long on my exposed legs before averting, a glint of shame pooling within them, and it only spreads that fire in my belly.

Maybe I'd been imagining the whole thing, because deep down I wanted him to look at me the way he had... But it's hard to tell when my brain is mostly setting off sirens, blaring "THIS IS WRONG! THIS IS WRONG!" on a loop with blinding lights.

And they're even louder when my mom wraps her arm around me and lays her head atop mine. "Well, what do you think? He's great, huh?"

She's so lovesick, it hurts. It hurts even worse knowing that all I can think about is his big hands wrapped around my throat while he fucks me into the squeaky twin-sized mattress in my bedroom upstairs.

But I can't tell her that, obviously.

And so I decidedly hate him. And I have no choice but lie to her face, embracing her joy and hoping that I'll be able to survive this summer.

"Yeah, Mom. He's really great."

JUNE 19th

It's been two weeks and I can barely stand to be in the same house anymore.

I try to keep myself busy by going outside, to the beach or for long walks in the park; but it's too hot for my liking, and our town is so small that unless I want to spend my time in the grocery store or one of the three bars on Main Street...

I'm stuck either outside where it's hot and uncomfortable, or in the house where it's also hot and uncomfortable.

We have air conditioning, of course, but that's not the problem.

It's Spencer.

I thought by now my little crush on him would have gone, but the longer he hangs around the house, the stronger my feelings for him grow. They're not romantic—nor do I think they ever could be given the fact that if anything serious really were to ever happen between us, my mom would disown me for the rest of my life and murder Spencer with her bare hands—but that doesn't make it any easier on me.

Every day he just exists, right in front of me with that tug-able mop of hair, those warm honey eyes, and his hands that never stop moving. I swear, it's like every time he breathes, his hands are breathing too, challenging me to try and stop them.

But I refuse to touch him. Because I know the moment I do, all will be lost. I won't be able to control myself anymore. And if I don't drop to my knees and try sucking his dick at the dinner table, I'm sure I'll blurt out how I can't handle it anymore and that I need him, and either way I'd be royally fucked.

Right now he's in the dining room, teaching my mom how to do a disappearing card trick. She thinks it's utterly charming that he can do it at all, but mostly that he's patient and willing enough to teach her. And normally I'd agree, but I can barely look at them without wanting to waltz over, grab his wrist, and suck his fingers into my mouth.

It's truly pathetic.

So I try to focus on the television just a few feet away. It's one of those rare instances where I wish our house was bigger, because while I don't mind having less wall-space between rooms, I do mind not being able to watch TV without the kitchen table in my periphery at a time like this. And I think about going up to my bedroom instead for a moment, but I'd have to go past the kitchen, and I just know Mom is going to ask if I'd want Spencer to teach me his magic trick.

And I most definitely do not want that.

In another life, maybe, where he isn't a hot professor and rather an average-looking dude who's way too into fantasy football... But not in this lifetime.

So there I sit, concentrating so hard on Family Feud that my face hurts.

When I hear a flutter of cards and joyous giggling from the other room, it's more than my face that hurts.

It's also my chest, churning and tensing at the hands of the green devil.

Fuck!

I barely even know this man... I haven't really talked to him because I'm afraid that if I try to hold a conversation I'll snap. He's literally just some hot older guy who's dating my mom, and still, my whole body twists and aches with envy when they do anything together, and it fucking sucks. Not only because of the jealousy, but it's also the fact that my mom deserves to be happy.

This time it's different. This time, she's really found someone who returns her every loving gaze, who makes her laugh, who's kind and genuine and not a total douche. She's happier than I've seen her in years.

And the one time she finally finds "The One", every waking second of my life is spent longing for him fuck me.

But it's only been two weeks.

And it's also been nearly two years since I got laid, so maybe that's just my issue...

I figure it can't hurt, so in a spur of the moment decision, I turn the TV off and sprint towards the stairs, right past Mom and Spencer before they can ask questions.

———

I hardly even register the dimness of the light inside the house by the time I glide up the steps, fumbling with the key and trying to make my entrance as quiet as possible. Though, because I'm so used to the dark by this point, the light—no matter how dim—nearly blinds me. The door shuts louder than I'd have liked, and I cringe inwardly, pausing as if that will keep anyone from seeing or hearing me. Not like it'll matter, considering Mom and Spencer are the only ones that are staying here and they'd also been the only ones aware of my plans for the evening.

Well, somewhat, anyway. I told them an old friend invited me out and I probably wouldn't be home until late.

Regardless, that instinct of trying not to get caught coming in late at night is stronger than common sense. Throw a little cheap beer and some shots into the mix, and it almost feels like I'm a teenager again.

The only thing different now is that I have a pool of some stranger's cum soaking my underwear and a man in front of me who stands like an angel. An exhausted, almost scruffy-looking angel more like, but my point still stands.

"You're up late," Spencer observes. It's a simple enough statement— not really judge-y, but I can tell that regardless of his knowledge of my coming home late, he seems shocked to see me coming through the front door right now.

And it's hard to look away from him. Just like it has been for the past two weeks. Still, I try, just barely avoiding his eyes as I cross my arms and fight the urge to clench my legs together. "I'm a whore. What's your excuse?"

Maybe not the best thing to say. But like I said, common sense? Gone.

"O—oh... Umm..." Spencer stumbles through his words, obviously stunned by my response, and the look in his eyes kind of makes me want to curl up in a ball and die from embarrassment. Still, I stand my ground and wait for him to continue.

He settles on a short, "I can't sleep," and then there's nothing else.

"Ah," I express. One syllable. I don't draw it out, I don't exaggerate it... This is the first real conversation I've had alone with him, and I've made it extremely awkward, so I sigh and take a few steps forward, trying to walk past him. "Okay. Goodnight."

I only make it a few steps before he stops me, his hand reaching out to tap my shoulder. "Wait—"

The touch makes me jump, and he pulls it away immediately as I turn to face him. My heart is racing at the speed of light, my panties are soaked through, and if I'm not careful that whole 'no common sense' thing is going to bite me so hard in the ass I won't have one left.

"Can I talk to you?" His voice is barely audible, and the gentle rasp it has to it seems to make me even more wet.

I nod, not trusting myself to speak.

"Look, I um... Your mom has been totally transparent with me about her relationships, so I know that she's been through a lot of them in a short amount of time... And I know that must be a little difficult for you. Especially now that I'm here... And you've been... distant. And I know that I don't know you that well, so forgive me if I'm assuming anything, but I just want you to know that I don't have any intention of making things difficult for you and your mother."

Too late, pal, I think bitterly, the gentle authority in his tone setting my insides alight. I'm positive that voice could get me to do so many things...

That's the alcohol and sex talking, Y/N, just shake it and move on...

He starts again, but I cut him off with a short wave of my hand. "Look, I... I appreciate what you're trying to do, but I had a really long night, and I'm exhausted. I just wanna shower and go to bed."

I expect more resistance, but Spencer only nods. I still can't bring myself to look him in the eye, though this time I catch his hands clenching at the bottom hem of his shirt. "I understand. Sleep well."

Without another word I turn on my heel and walk a little faster towards the stairs, and I'm about to take my first step when I realize he's followed me. His voice calls out my name softly from a few feet behind, and it stops me in my tracks regardless of my desire to get out of there as fast as I can. And then I turn around and finally look directly at his face.

Big mistake.

His eyes are on my legs again, trailing slowly upwards until he reaches my face. The light over here is dimmer, barely noticeable at all, though I swear I can see red forming on his cheeks.

"I like your dress," he says softly. It's almost meek, like he'd been afraid to say it but took a chance anyway.

It's such a random, small compliment, but with the alcohol and endorphins flowing through my body after the night I'd just had, it nearly makes me quiver.

It also makes me incredibly stupid.

An amused, almost sensual grin forms on my face as I make eye contact with him, and I feel myself throb at the way I can just barely see his throat move. He looks like a deer in headlights, afraid to make one sudden move.

"Turning to flattery to try and win me over, are we?" I say slowly.

I almost think he'll stumble over his words once more, but again he surprises me with a full answer. It's only three words but it's clear, and his voice is deep, and I want to fucking jump his bones right then and there.

"Is it working?"

This has to be the alcohol making me imagine things... I swear I didn't even drink that much tonight, but it has to be an obvious lapse in judgement. The drinking mixed with the sex mixed with the dirty thoughts I've been having about this man lately have to be what's making this feel real. It's all culminating into this one big fantasy (or delusion, more like), and all I need is to shower and sleep it off.

That has to be it.

So because there's no other reasonable explanation that my brain can conjure up, I take a chance and throw Spencer a wink before turning and sprinting up the stairs.

And it's that same seemingly undeniable reasoning for this illusion that doesn't keep my hands from wandering in the shower. Even though those warning sirens in my brain keep blaring, telling me that the common sense is still there for me to utilize, they're drowned out by my thrumming heartbeat and the repetition of Spencer's soothing, authoritative voice, guiding my movements.

Keep rubbing your clit for me, baby... Just like that, nice and slow...

Warm water cascades down the front of my body as I lean back into the wall of the shower, but that's not why I'm so warm. This heat radiates through my insides, spreading like wildfire and bringing out small whimpers and mewls that I know I'll have to contain in fear of waking my mom from her bedroom right next door.

But then the thought of her hearing me next door as I cry out her boyfriend's name only excites me more. I keep it quiet still, but just knowing that someone else is in the house while I'm having these thoughts right now (one of them being the object of said thoughts) is what finally brings me over the edge.

I finish my shower on weak legs, definitely overstimulated now, but also feeling even more tired. I know that the moment I lay down on my bed, I'll be pulled into the sweet, soft surrender of a deep sleep.

Nothing else has ever sounded so pleasant.

———

When I woke up that morning after, I was feeling surprisingly calm. Realistically I knew that my whole 'this has to be an illusion' montage had been less truth and more inebriated babble, and the longer I sat on it the more I thought it'd all turned out for the better.

Turns out, tipsily masturbating in the shower to thoughts of your mom's hot new boyfriend was a surefire way to get it out of your system, right?

Wrong.

It really had been okay at first. I thought about Spencer almost immediately, and yeah, he was still hot as fuck—But there wasn't this overwhelming desire within me to jump his bones when I saw him that morning, his hair messy and his hands clutching a cup of coffee while Mom made breakfast behind him.

But that good feeling I had about all of this? It lasts only about a split second.

Because the moment he looks up and sees me, the mug falls out of his hand and shatters to pieces. His eyes stay glued to me, even as my mother darts over to pick up the pieces of the ceramic that are scattered about the table and the floor. And when she turns back to grab a paper towel, he still stares at me, once again at my legs.

It takes me all of four seconds afterwards to remember that not only did I talk to him briefly last night, but I also flirted with him after he complimented me.

That whole part seemed to have slipped my mind when waking up, and now that his gaze is bringing me back to that moment, that 'this has to be an illusion' montage is starting to become larger than I'd remembered.

It isn't until he finally snaps out of it and starts to help my mom clean up the mess that I snap out of it, too, going back upstairs to clear my head and cool the heat radiating over my skin.

———

There's a knock at my bedroom door about an hour later, and it sounds different than my mom's usually quick two-knock succession. That means it's someone else, and unsurprisingly, my stomach tightens at the thought of seeing him again.

"Yeah?" I call out, turning in my desk chair and meeting Spencer's figure in the doorway. He's changed, a rather nice pair of slacks and a white button-up shirt clinging to his limbs.

"Can I come in?"

"Mhm," I say. I still don't know if I entirely trust myself to say anything more than a few words to him, and as he enters the room and sits on the foot of my bed, I wonder if he can tell.

He tries, really tries, to look me in the eye, but I know that it's hard. I've been in the same spot. And then he takes a deep breath before folding his hands in his lap.

"Y/N, I want to apologize... When we... talked last night... It was kind of weird, and then this morning wasn't really any better..." He can barely get out the words 'talk' and 'last night'... And then he avoids my gaze altogether, staring at the floor and trailing off, trying to put his thoughts together it seems.

And that's when it starts to click into place.

There's one thing that both last night and this morning have in common, and I've noticed it almost every time I've caught him staring at me. At my legs. It's happened almost daily since I've met him. And then, the night I come home clearly having just been fucked, waltzing past him, entertaining his fascination with my legs and then masturbating to thoughts of him in the shower, he finally starts dropping mugs.

He must also really feel something here. Something similar to my own feelings. And really, that should be a red flag, because he's my mom's boyfriend, and it's a goddamned fucking mess...

But fuck, it excites me.

I'm still wearing my pajama shorts, silky and lavender in color, and I use them to my advantage, slowly crossing one leg over the other and just barely gaining Spencer's attention back.

"Yeah, what was that, anyway?" I ask him, amusement dripping off my tongue.

I can tell from his reaction that he wasn't expecting me to ask. A few times he opens his mouth to speak and then closes it , stumbling before panicking. He's been pretty good so far at coming up with answers and explanations, so the fact that this time I finally seemed to have broken him down makes it all the more clear.

He must have heard me in the shower.

Right?

I'm almost completely positive that's what this is about. And there's one way for me to get the confirmation I'm looking for.

"So you heard me, huh?"

I try to keep my voice as plain as I can as not to give away my motives, and with my luck Spencer is so flustered that he probably wouldn't have even noticed it at all. He looks up at me, his eyes desperately trying to find something he can use to make up a lie, but in the end there's no use.

I've caught him. And he knows it.

"Yes," he whispers. He looks exhausted, guilty, and also a little like he wants to cross the barrier and kiss me.

Okay, maybe that part's just in my head. I really can't tell. But I do know that hearing me call his name out in the shower last night is what brought him to this point of severe distress. As much as that excites me, though, it also embarrasses me a little. Maybe if it hadn't happened we could have avoided further destruction.

It must read on my face, because Spencer perks a little. "Oh! Y/N, I'm not... I'm not mad or anything. I really didn't mean to overhear and invade your privacy... Really, I-I'm sorry."

The fact that he's apologizing to me right now, rather than acting all grossed out that I even did it in the first place, tells me he either feels guilty for not being able to help himself from hearing me, or he's just a good guy who loves my mom and doesn't want to ruin it because of a little mishap.

Either way, it's frustrating, because I don't know what to do.

Well, I know what I want to do, but I don't know if I should hint at it.

But then he does something. It's small, and no one would have noticed, but I've been fascinated with his hands since the moment I met him, so my eyes are instantly drawn there.

They're clenched so hard, his knuckles are nearly white.

He's nervous.

To ease his mind a bit, I hold off on poking the bear harder (though it's really tempting to see what will happen if I don't) and nod, trying to make myself look as apologetic and small as possible.

"It's okay... I... I won't make it awkward if you won't?"

His shoulders slump, and his body seems to relax. "Y–yeah. Yeah, deal."

He gets up off the bed and blurts one final apology before heading for the door, but that part of me that wants to poke the bear further makes me stand up and follow him.

"Spencer?" I call out.

He freezes and turns to face me, and I don't think he quite expected me to be as close as I am. I have to tilt my head up to look at him, and the angle gives me an added layer of this innocence I'm trying to achieve.

"I'm sorry, too..."

No the fuck I'm not.

Whether he can sense my lie or not, he doesn't show it. But I think he at least knows that I'm pitching my voice a little higher on purpose, and if that doesn't give it away, the way I'm staring at him sure should.

Still, he only nods and retreats.

All there's left to do is see what happens.

JUNE 25th

For someone who agreed not to make things awkward, Spencer sure can't keep his eyes off of me.

To be fair, I have tried to keep things fairly normal. I only really interacted with him if I had to, I kept my distance, and I saved my skimpier clothing for the strangers I was regularly going out to see almost every weekend.

My lustful feelings for him aren't as strong now that I've been getting some on a semi-regular basis and keeping myself occupied. I've been doing my part.

But I still can't shake him entirely.

Whenever he spends the night (which is surprisingly most nights), the occasional wet dream about him gets me frustrated when I know he's just down the hall and sleeping soundly next to my mom. On those days I try to cut as much interaction with him as I can, though it doesn't keep me from seeing the occasional stare he throws my way.

I wish I could say that I hate it.

But I don't, and it increasingly gets worse. It's only been a week, so there's still time, but honestly, I don't think there's any shaking him.

Today especially is one of those days where it's hard not to give into the incessant need to tease him and coax some stronger reaction out of him.

I talked to Mom earlier this morning about getting some new clothes, and she had this brilliant idea to have Spencer take me. "It would be a good chance for you two to bond a little, don't you think?" she insisted, nudging him in the side and silently pleading with her eyes for him to agree.

I could tell from the look on his face that he really wasn't ready to be alone with me again, but that only excited me.

"Yeah, I think that's a great idea," I piped up, positively beaming.

Mom was so excited for us to 'bond' and also that I was gladly inclined to go through with it that Spencer couldn't have said no to her even if he wanted to.

And I was pretty sure he didn't want to.

Yet here we are, sitting in the car, the air conditioning so strong it's blowing some of my hair into my eyes. I think it had been his way of punishing me for choosing today to wear a short skirt, something I usually refrain from nowadays unless I'm going out, and it makes me smile. I can't help it.

I also can't help the way my fingers play with my skirt, dying to tease him some more. I just want to see, to know for sure that I'm driving him mad.

"No offence, but you seem weird today... Is there something wrong?" I ask him, lifting my skirt just a smidge. The air from the car blows the fabric in waves.

"You're acting this way on purpose."

Well, I hadn't been expecting that answer... All this time he'd hardly been confrontative, and now he's full-on calling me out. It's plain to see that he's finally snapped, and I would have felt sorry about it if I didn't find it extremely sexy.

"What do you mean?"

"Y/N..."

My name on his lips is a warning. He's clearly annoyed, exasperated, and I'm loving every second. "Don't act oblivious. I'm not stupid, and neither are you. I don't want to make you hate me or anything, but you have to know where I'm coming from. I was willing to let the shower thing slide... And you said you were too, for that matter, so I don't know what's changed, but it has to stop now. Understood?"

Oh, all I want is to argue with him. I want to point out that none of this is really my fault because he's the one who hasn't been able to stop staring at me all summer so far. I want to tell him that if he wants this to stop he has to make it stop.

But that isn't going to give me any of the answers I'm looking for or further proof of my theory that he wants me just as badly as I want him. And I am not going to fuck this whole situation up by making a poorly-timed move on him.

I have to know for sure.

So, I fold my hands neatly in my lap, sigh, and look dead ahead. "Right... We said no awkwardness. I'm sorry."

Spencer seems to accept my apology and continues down the road.

When we make it to the mall I think he's calmed down. At least, he seems a little more comfortable around me, and honestly I'm okay with it. As much as his spiel in the car turned me on, it also exhausted me to the point of silence.

Even as we walk around each store in the mall, I just lead and he follows, not saying a word when I pick out a top or a pair of pants or whatever else I need. And when it comes time to pay, he takes the basket from me and pays for it with no question.

Near five bags of clothes later, I figure I could get used to this new dynamic.

But then we pass a lingerie store, and I remember that the main thing I'd needed was new underwear. I start to turn into the store, but stop suddenly, pausing awkwardly and deciding to go straight ahead instead.

"You don't want to go in?" Spencer asks.

I shake my head. "No, it's fine. I can just pick some up later, it's not a big deal."

He sighs then, nodding his head towards the sign. "If you need to go in, you can... I'll just wait out here if you're uncomfortable."

I really want to call him out, ask him if he's the one who should be worried about being uncomfortable. But so far this afternoon has been pretty decent, and I really don't want to make things any weirder than they have to be.

Besides... If my theory is right...

"Sure. Thanks. Uh, how am I gonna pay, though?"

"O—Oh... I'll uh... I'll just watch the counter and come in when you need me."

"Orrrr, you could just give it to me?"

This time I get a laugh out of him. "Not a chance. Go in, I'll wait."

I smile at him and hand him the bags to hold onto while I leave, and it fills me with absolute amusement that he'd just given me one more ounce of proof that I'm right.

He's gonna have to come inside and pay for what I bought. He could have just given me the card, and maybe he truly doesn't trust me with it (which I don't know why he wouldn't honestly), but he chose to come inside all the same.

I browse happily then, going through the displays and picking out things I need, but also things I know Spencer will like.

Specifically, I stumble on a pair of lavender panties, embroidered with flowery trim up top. The pattern from the outside is lace, but there's a thin layer of cotton underneath designed to be more comfortable to wear.

I've noticed that he can never seem to look away when I'm wearing anything, really, but it's more intense when I wear one of two things. Florals, and any type of purple. And these fit both of those bills perfectly.

Now there's just one more bill to take care of.

I stride over to the counter and turn around, finding that Spencer's caught my eye immediately. Either he truly had been paying attention to the counter the whole time, or he'd been watching through the glass, following me with his gaze to the best of his abilities. Either way, he blinks a few times and looks like he's gathering the courage to go in before actually taking any steps.

I laugh to myself, eager to gauge his reaction to this next step.

Surprisingly, he holds up well. The air between me, him, and the cashier is obviously awkward, but he doesn't say anything and barely looks at what she rings up. (I say barely because he tries extremely hard not to look at the purple pair I picked out, inadvertently adding another checkmark to my list of proof.) She tells him the total, he hands her the card, and within a minute, everything is in our possession and we're leaving the mall entirely.

I don't think there are any more steps to my plan today once we get in the car and I tell him thank you. (To which he responds a short and simple, Sure thing, and turns the radio on.)

But then there's a note taped to the front door, and it instantly gives me another one.

My Sweethearts,

I got called in on a work emergency and won't be back until 7. I would have called but I figured you were having a nice time and didn't want to interrupt! I'll bring home dinner, and then maybe you can tell me about how your day went. Can't wait to hear it!

XOXO,

Eve/Mom

I check my phone, seeing that it's almost 3.

Perfect.

But I don't want to give myself away too quickly, so I thank Spencer again for taking me out and tell him that I'm going upstairs to make sure everything fits right. He nods and lets me go, though not without lingering eyes. I can feel it.

The smile never leaves my face as I try all my clothes on. Once each article has been fitted, I throw it in a laundry basket and move to the next, until I get to the last piece.

The lavender panties.

As expected, they fit perfectly, and as I look at myself in the mirror I picture what Spencer would look like when he sees me wearing them.

That's right. When.

I throw back on my earlier outfit and grab the basket, acting as bored and normal as possible to find him sitting at the kitchen table, reading a book.

"Hey," I greet him, setting the basket in front of me once I reach the bottom of the stairs. "Everything fits good, I just need them washed now. Could you run these down to the laundry room for me? I think I'm gonna make something to snack on before Mom brings dinner."

It doesn't surprise me to see him look at my legs before my face, even if it is brief. I want to smile, but I hold back, watching him nod with a tight smile of his own.

"Sure."

He disappears and then I wait.

One...

Two...

Three.

I sneak as quietly as I can to the laundry room once I hear the washer door open. I hadn't specifically asked him to put them in the washer for me on purpose, and it looks like now he's doing exactly what I thought he might.

My head peeks around the corner, barely in his range of sight as I watch him empty the basket. He takes one item of clothing at a time and throws it in the washer, and halfway through the basket he stops, just to place a pair of my new underwear on the dryer beside him.

My heart races faster the more I wait for him to get to the end of the basket. Once he does, he pauses again, and I think I know exactly what he's looking for.

Still, he sets the basket aside and picks up the stray pair of underwear, a simple black cotton pair that I'd been getting for years, and drapes it over his hands. My thighs instantly clench, and I try so hard to remain where I am so I can see where he takes this.

He takes it straight to hell, apparently, tentatively pulling his dick out of his pants and gripping it firmly. I can barely see since his back is partially turned, but I see enough, and god he's so fucking pretty. My underwear dangle from his left hand while the other works slowly over his erection, a soft sigh falling from his lips.

I fight to let one of my own slip as my hand sinks down the front of my body, past the lavender cotton and lace that I know he just wishes he had right now.

And then, a few seconds later he's already coming, using my brand new underwear to catch each rope of it, and the sight nearly has me on my knees.

And because I want to catch him in the act, I quickly draw my hand away from myself and step into the room, barely giving him time to recover.

"You come fast."

Spencer looks utterly devastated when he turns to see me standing in the entryway to the laundry room, arms crossed and an amused smirk adorning my face.

"Y/N... I—I... I'm so sorry, I didn't... I..."

"Don't worry about it," I say, taking a step towards him and shrugging. "You heard me, and now I heard you... We're even. Besides, I... figured you might be looking for these."

He's still stunned, but he looks down all the same, watching my hands slip under my skirt and glide the lavender panties down my legs. I step out of them and hold the garment up on one finger, a soft smile still on my face.

"I picked 'em out just for you, you know," I tell him, tossing them past his face and into the washer. "I've noticed that you like purple."

This time he's quick to respond. "Y/N, we... We can't... This isn't right."

"Says the man holding my underwear soaked in his cum..."

He looks panicked again, extremely guilty, but if this isn't going to end in a total disaster, then I have to reassure him that I'm okay.

"Spencer, I'm not mad..." I take another step forward, and it feels much like trying to approach a wounded animal. I can see in his eyes and in his posture that this conflict is killing him, so I decide to show some rapport. "And I know... I know this is messy... I love my mom... And I'm sure you care about her a lot... But are we really going to ignore this? We tried that, remember? And now look where we are."

"I..." He swallows, shaking his head and trying to avoid my eyes. "I can't stop thinking about you... I can't..."

My hand finds his arm, and the light touch has him sighing out, an incredulous, breathy laugh escaping him. "Y/N, please... Don't."

"Don't what?" I ask softly, praying he won't turn me away. If he does, we're just back to square one, only the square is jagged, sharper than ever before, and in serious danger of injuring someone.

When he meets my eyes, I see nothing but a desire for something he knows he can't have. "Don't want me."

Now it's my turn to laugh. My knees start to wobble as I go down, keeping my eyes locked onto his, and I swear I see them dilate fully. I scoot in closer, sliding my hand up his leg and finding the words in my heart to finally say out loud.

"It's too late for that..."

My face moves closer, and the hand of his that doesn't currently hold my underwear flies down to gently tug at my hair, keeping me in place.

"If you do this... God, Y/N, I won't be able to stop myself..."

A smirk dances over my lips as I lean in, breath fanning gently over his exposed skin. "Don't."

He swallows. "Don't what?"

"Don't stop yourself."

I barely get the words out before his hand is completely pulling me towards him, and the second my lips press against the silky skin of his hard cock, he loses it completely.

His fingers thread through my hair as I kiss and lick my way softly up to the tip. Once I'm there, I swirl my tongue out and taste the small beads of cum that had remained after he came, a low, satiated hum radiating through my body and making him shiver under my touch.

And then I wrap my lips fully around the head of his dick, and there's no stopping the most beautiful sound I've ever heard come out of his mouth. It's a broken, desperate whisper of my name. The crack in his voice when he says it spurs me forward, and I take him deeper into my mouth until he hits the back of my throat.

That's when he tosses my underwear in the washer and uses both of his hands to grab my head, roughly guiding me along his cock and fully taking control of my actions.

The fire in my belly doesn't ease up, not even once he's decided that he can't take it anymore and pulls me off of him harshly.

And that's only because now he's fully turned over, finally given into these desires that have been plaguing him presumably from the moment we met.

"I want you stripped and in your bed, on your hands and knees within the next five minutes."

I get up off the floor and walk up to him until our bodies are flush, my arms reaching up to wrap around his neck.

"What are you gonna do to me, Spencer?"

He searches my eyes, and his own grow dark with the purest form of sin I'd ever seen. And when his hands come up over the back of my legs, and under my skirt to grab my ass and pull me even closer to him, I can't help the little mewl that slips past my lips.

He smiles, and if it hadn't been for the grip he held on me, I would have fallen to my knees. "Little girl, when I'm through with you, you'll have to come up with some excuse to your mom about why you can't walk straight... Is that what you want?"

The mention of my mom should send me running in the opposite direction, but his threat only prolongs that fire in my veins and makes me want him even more.

I tilt my head up and press a gentle kiss to his lips.

"Do your worst..."

———

Turns out he was very true to his word.

Sitting at the kitchen table is somewhat of a relief, but I try not to walk around as much when Mom gets home. She'd asked me almost immediately if I was okay, and I told her I was just hungry and needed to eat something.

She seemed to have bought it, rushing to the kitchen to unpack the fast food she'd ordered for us. Over her shoulder, Spencer gave me a sly smile, and it took everything I had within myself not to crumble.

Through bites of food, I only half-listen to Mom telling us about the stuff she had to do at work because most of the words I'm hearing are in my head— A loop of endless dirty talk that plants deep into the soil of my stomach and spreads out through my whole body. It infects me, like the most beautiful poison, and I never want it to stop.

"Tell me, sweetheart, you ever let a man come inside you before?"

His weight on top of me coupled together with the heft of his voice has me whining out in pleasure, each snap forward of his hips over my ass as he pounds into me from behind the most delectable burn I've ever felt.

"Uh huh," I answer happily, twisting my head to feel his cheek against my own. "That night you heard me in the shower... I walked through the door with a stranger's cum soaking my panties... And you know what?"

He grumbles, his hips hitting into me harder as he waits for me to continue.

"I wished it was yours..."

My legs clench together under the table and I take a large gulp of water.

I feel something graze over my bare shin, and I already know it's Spencer's foot, a silent reassurance of his presence and that no matter what, he'll always be here.

"Here's what's going to happen..."

He has me on my back now, my legs hoisted over his shoulders and bent back so I'm nearly folded in half. His hips are flush against mine and I can feel his cock throbbing as he comes into the condom.

"You're gonna make an appointment to make sure you're clean... You're gonna make sure you're on good birth control... And then the next time I fuck this pretty little pussy, you're gonna really know what it feels like to have a man come inside you."

Right... Like I really need a reminder of his presence.

I can practically feel it still inside me, taking up every inch of space my body could provide. And no matter how long I go without seeing him, I have no doubt that it'll always remain.

"But that's enough about me, I'm sorry." Mom's voice shifts and breaks me out of my fantasy. "So, how did your day of bonding go? You have fun?"

Spencer and I share a look, a smile spreading over his lips that makes me smile in turn.

"Yeah, Mom," I say. "It was great."

He nods in kind. "Yeah... We'll definitely have to do it again."

His foot grazing over my leg under the table cements the unwavering smile on my face, as does the way my whole body burns at the memory of him fucking me upstairs only hours before.

I don't even flinch or get sick to my stomach when Mom reaches over and gives Spencer a kiss.

———

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[imagine-that-haikyuu]

Reaction to Cutting Your Hair Short

These are the first Haikyuu!! fics I ever wrote (barring one Asahi fic) that I used to practice characterization and I figured it would be time to share them! They’ve been waiting almost four long years for the world to see them.

Inspired by the fact that I need a haircut.

Suga’s is inspired by something that actually happened to me when I was 17. That was embarrassing.

- Admin Rachel Lauren

Ko-fi

~*~

Kageyama

Kageyama never once considered you an impulsive person. He could tell from the first day he met you that everything in your life was pretty much planned to the minute: the fact that you were constantly scribbling reminders into your weekly planner was his first hint at this. It wasn’t until he had actually mustered up the courage to confess to you and that you insisted that he take you to the movies at exactly noon—heavy emphasis on “exactly”—the following Sunday that he realized just how meticulous you actually are.

“And I won’t forgive you if you’re even the slightest bit late!” you chimed with a sweet smile at the time. If he hadn’t been so over the moon about you accepting his confession, he would have been concerned. So your dates became a regular weekly thing—Sundays at exactly noon—that he couldn’t afford to be late to. 

Today, he’s sure to arrive early to the café, fifteen minutes ahead of time just in case. It’s bothersome, but there’s something about beating you there that felt reminiscent of his constant competition with Hinata over who could get to morning practice earlier. The fact that he won this time was enough for him to get over it.

“Ah, there you are.” 

Kageyama raises his gaze up from the menu he’d been staring at for the past few minutes. Blues eyes widening at the sight before him, he drops the plastic-covered pages onto the table.

Your once-long hair is gone. Completely chopped off into a bob stopping at your chin. He had just seen you yesterday and at that time, your hair was much longer. As you take your seat across from him, he stutters nonsense syllables. 

“Mmm, I’ll take it as a good sign,” you say while picking up the menu before you and glancing it over.

Finally, he’s able to form a coherent sentence. Leaning a little closer to you, he asks, “W-when did this happen?” 

You pick at a hair on your cardigan, a leftover clipping from the salon that the hairdresser was unable to wipe off of you. “Just before I came here.”

Normally, you would let him know of these kinds of things, but you hadn’t said a word about it. Or maybe you had and he hadn’t been paying attention. He knew that if you had, you would definitely scold him for not listening to you, but he couldn’t help but ask about it.

“W-were you always going to get it cut this short?” 

You shook your head, your hair shaking along with it, and gave a casual shrug. “I just decided to do it when I woke up this morning.” You stare off into the distance in thought. “I don’t know. Maybe I was just tired of how long it would take to style it.”

This is definitely an unusual sight for Kageyama, seeing you so unsure of yourself. Something in the pit of his stomach feels heavy. This uneasiness makes it hard to look at you, and his eyes keep glancing down at the table, then at the floor, and back.

“Kageyama-kun, do you not like it?” 

He raises his head again to finally meet you eye-to-eye. The slightly dejected look on your face only makes him feel worse about the whole thing. Now that he was finally getting a good look at you, it was easy to see that the length actually suited you and framed your face nicely. There was an air of maturity about you as well. If he hadn’t known better, he would have assumed you were one of his senpai.

“No, it looks…” He struggles to find the right word, pouting slightly at his own inhibition. “Nice” was too simple. “Fine” didn’t feel right either.  “…cute. It looks…cute.”

There’s a shaky sigh of relief from you. That dejected look on your face relaxes, and your lips curve upwards into a wide grin. Whatever uncertainty he had about you before seems to fade instantly away.

~*~

Suga

Tears brim at the corner of your eyes, as they had been on occasion for the past few days. It was so stupid and childish: getting lice of all things! When your head started itching after coming home from vacation and your mother checked through your hair and found the pests, you groaned. The thought of whatever child had been in your seat on the flight before yours could make your blood boil if you were a meaner person. What’s worse is that this wouldn’t be your first time having to take care of this matter. 

You had first dealt with lice as a child. Your hair had been long then too, so your mother did every remedy in the book for a solid three days on end until your head was free of the suckers. She spent hours with you bent over the bathtub using lice shampoo on your scalp, your knees and neck sore from the harsh tiling and awkward positioning. The memory of seeing the little, dead bugs wash out of your hair gave you nightmares for a week after that. You smelled of vinegar for longer than you would have liked in your attempts to suffocate them by soaking your locks in it while a towel held them in place. And of course, there was the dreaded nit comb. There were too many tears from you as your mother pulled that comb through your hair for an entire afternoon, your scalp raw from all the tugging and washing.

So now, at seventeen-years-old, you knew better than to go through that living hell another time. You would have to use the shampoo and the nit comb again no matter what, but at least not with hair that long. You could easily remedy the problem within a day by chopping it all off.

Except it had taken you so long to grow it out from the last time you cut it short, and it looked so pretty to boot. And perhaps, more importantly to you, your boyfriend loved your hair. He would constantly compliment it, and you would be lying if you said you weren’t nervous about how he would like the possibility of a new ‘do for you.

“Koushi, I’m so embarrassed,” you say with a sniffle over the phone. Your room reeks thanks to the vinegar-soaked towel around your head. “I could honestly drop dead.”

“These things happen. It’s okay.” Suga’s voice was as sweet as it ever was, but it was anything but reassuring at the moment. “Would you like me to come over now and help you shampoo? I know your mom’s the expert at this point, but I have a distinct feeling that you need to see another familiar face.”

You bite your lip in frustration. You’re dying to spend time with Suga after having not seen him since you’d been home, but the idea of him seeing your now-short hair was doing nothing to ease your woes. “Don’t. I’d feel awful if I gave them to you.”

He let out a quiet laugh. “You say that as if my hair isn’t short and easy to manage. You can’t hide from me forever! I’ll be over in a little while.”

Suga lives a few streets over, so it doesn’t take him long to arrive. Your mother answers the door, and you groan at the sound of his footsteps from the stairwell. You don’t move from your spot on the floor of your room when he walks in. Your eyes are downcast. Not even his presence can stir your attention away from the carpet. He’s about to say something, but the timer on your phone starts blaring: it’s time to wash out the vinegar. Without a word, you unwrap the towel and let your soaked hair flop down into place.

Lips trembling, the tears finally start coming out in giant droplets. You place your hands over your face without hesitation. “It looks so bad. I know,” you sob. “I had no choice.”

He huffs. “It’s not fair, ____. You can’t cry like that when I can’t pull you into a hug to make it better, especially when you look so pretty.”

You pull your hands away from your face, tears still falling, streaking your cheeks. Suga’s seated cross-legged in front of you, chin placed in his hands. His smile is as wide and refreshing as ever. You let out a squeaky, “Really?” in between your shallow breaths.

“You know I always think you look pretty, but shorter hair really suits you. You look like a new person.” He sits up straight, and pinches his nose with a wink, his lovely voice now nasal. “But you smell awful, and that I can’t forgive. Let’s go wash it out.”

Still sniffling but tears stopping, your lips curve into a smile. Suga holds out a hand for you, and you take it, giving it an affirmative squeeze. He raises your hand to his lips and gives it a gentle peck, eliciting a sigh of relief from you.

“Thank you, Koushi.”

~*~

Oikawa

A few days have passed since you’d last seen your boyfriend. A volleyball tournament over the long weekend for him and a visit to the grandparent’s house for you had kept the two of you apart. It’s hardly unusual that you don’t see him on the weekends anyway, given that it’s the height of volleyball season and he more than often overworks himself practicing. However, something about this weekend feels...off. 

Perhaps, it’s the shortage of texts and calls on his end that bothered you. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t worried even before this particular weekend: something in the way he talked to you at school and the general air about him when he walked you home felt distant. Hesitantly, you had asked Iwaizumi if something had happened, but he couldn’t tell you what was bothering Oikawa, just that he had noticed the tension between the two of you as well.

When you had passed the hair salon while out shopping for your grandmother when you arrived in her town on Friday evening, an idea popped into your head. It was pretty impulsive, but you had been debating about cutting your hair short for a few weeks now. If it was going to happen, now was the time. Except that it had only taken you two days to get used to it, so you forgot rather quickly that it was a thing you had done without his knowing.

So when you open the door for Oikawa on Monday morning when he comes to pick you up for your walk to school, and see his signature smile swiftly fade into a look of confusion, you panic.

“What is it?” you ask, slightly wide-eyed. You pat your face to feel for any food crumbs that you might have forgotten to wipe off after breakfast.

“Your hair.”

You blink. “Right.” You bring your hands up in a slight shrug and chime, “Surprise.”

He takes a step towards you, face a little less confused and a little more shocked now. His eyes take in your styled tresses, fingers reaching out to touch them and barely brushing your chin in the process, but pulling back before he actually does. It was almost as if he needed the reassurance that this was all very real. Your heart beat furiously in your chest as he did this; you honestly had no idea how to gauge this reaction from him and it was making you uneasy. Oikawa was generally very quick to compliment on your appearance, so this distinct lack of commentary is worrying.

Your eyes downcast as he stands before you, you exhale deeply. There’s no turning back now; it’s not like you can just glue your locks back together.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done this,” you apologize, eyes fixed firmly on the floor. “You’ve been kind of distant lately, so I thought that maybe I was boring you. I know I did it on sort of a whim, but I thought that maybe a little change in appearance would help.”

His long arms quickly wrap around you, pulling you into a tight hug. Your own arms twitch at the sudden gesture, but you relax in his embrace and place your hands on his back, nuzzling your head into his chest.

“I thought you were the one who was bored with me!” he says with a bit of a whine. You pull away from the hug, and give him a look of concern.

“What do you mean?”

He flashes you one of his celebrity-status smiles, but there’s something pained behind it. “Well, it’s no secret that I’ve been dumped before because of volleyball. In fact, I was really surprised that you hadn’t done so already...” His smile fades into pout and he looks over at the wall. “It certainly didn’t help that Iwa-chan kept saying you’d dump me for someone who’d pay more attention to you.”

You blink, mouth in the shape of a small “o.” It subsided into a grin as you giggled, “Oh, we’re both pretty silly, aren’t we?” 

He hums and let out a “Yep!” before giving you a peck on the cheek and taking your hand. “We should hurry or we’ll be late. Besides, I can’t wait to see how jealous Iwa-chan will look when he sees that my girlfriend’s gotten even cuter.”

~*~

Kenma

Game Over.

Kenma’s face contorts as he stares at the dark screen of his handheld console, white lettering taunting him. He read online that this particular level was notoriously tough, and he’d been stuck on it for the past few days. 

Unlike last time he was bested in one of his video games, and Kuroo was there to point out how to beat the enemy, there was no giveaway about how to approach this boss battle. It was just this particular video game’s unusually high enemy curve that made it difficult.

He looks up from the bench before deciding whether or not to take a break from the game. He turns around and looks inside the salon’s storefront windows. You had just been seated in one of the chairs, the stylist wrapping the cape around your neck while your lips move. You place your hands against your hair, palms down, to indicate how much you wanted her to cut. It would still be a while before you were done. Kenma returned his attention to the console and hit “Try Again”.

The only reason he’s outside is because the salon is swamped today. There was only one seat in the waiting area, and it made sense for you to take it while you waited for your appointment. Even if there had been another seat available for him, he wasn’t sure he would have felt comfortable in the midst of all those people. The brash whirring of the hairdryers and the loud chit chat between stylists and customers would have distracted him from his game anyway. 

He also still wasn’t entirely sure why you had asked him to tag along. This was the kind of thing you would do on your own, and then do something together with him after you were done. It wasn’t that much of a bother because, either way, he would have played his game the whole time while he waited for you whether he was at home or anywhere else.

Kenma’s approach to the boss battle is definitely more careful the next few times he attempts it. The enemy’s health bar comes dangerously close to total depletion; his heart races faster because, finally, he would be able to move on in the game. Just as he goes to use a finishing combo, the enemy strikes his character with its most powerful blow, wiping out the little HP he had left. 

The screen fades to the black “Game Over” screen again. Kenma throws his head back with an exasperated sigh while the bell on the salon door jingles.

“All done.”

He directs his attention towards you. If he hadn’t recognized your voice, he wouldn’t have recognized you. The sight of you with short hair, almost similar in length to his, is a vision he would have to get used to. He had only known you with long hair. He blinks once and slowly, until he notices the large plastic baggie in your hand. Sensing his uncertainty about what you were holding, you hold it out for him to see. 

It’s a braid. Your braid.

He looked around, his eyebrows furrowed in concern. He muttered a quiet, “You’re keeping it?” He knows that parents sometimes keep a lock of their children’s hair after their first haircut as a memento, but he knows nothing about someone keeping their own hair when they’re older, and all of it for that matter.

Joining him on the bench, you zip your bag open to place the baggie inside of it. “Well, this salon won’t send it to the company for me, so I have to mail it in myself.”

His concerned look doesn’t waver at your words. What do you mean by having to mail it somewhere yourself? Don’t salons usually just cut off people’s hair and then sweep it away? You giggle at his scared face.

“Kenma, I’m donating it.”

His whole body relaxes and he lets out a sigh of relief. Thank goodness it isn’t for something weird. 

You peer over at the console in his hands, lips dipping into a slight frown at the unfortunately familiar “Game Over” screen. “Still stuck on that boss battle, huh?” 

His eyes glance between you and the screen. “Yeah.”

Crossing your arms over your chest, you lean back into the bench in thought with a slight hum.

“Maybe your character needs to get a haircut so he can see better,” you tease. “Get that wild mop out of his eyes.”

Kenma shrugs and hits the “Try Again” option once more. As the battle music starts to play and he taps at the buttons, a small smile tugs at his lips. “Even so, he probably wouldn’t look as nice as you.”

[bregee13]

A New Home

It wasn't before long until the Raposa family wandered into the snowy fields. At first the snow barely dusted the grass beneath their feet, but eventually the snow became almost knee deep. It was a good thing Polly thought of bringing blankets with them. Even then, the three wished they had the time to change into warmer clothing. 

Polly, while squeezing her dad's arm for support, shivered uncontrollably. "D-dad??? Why did-didn't we u-use the S-snow G-gate...?" 

Nixie, who was also freezing, couldn't help but glare at her husband. "That's a g-good question, Polly! Bobby, why DIDN'T we use the snow g-gate?" 

"Nghh..." 'How's this my fault? Movin dis way was YOUR idea...' As much as Bob wanted to say it out loud, he was much too tired to butt heads. Besides, after trudging through the snow for that long, you almost HAD to blame somebody. Though, if he didn't say anything, Nixie would freeze him to death before any snow could. "Well, if we w-went through the snow gate, we could've walked right i-into darkness. A-and dat wouldn't be fun, would it?" 

Nixie, who was starting to remember her plan, felt her cheeks flush a little more than they already were. Though embarrassed, she welcomed the extra warmth on her face.

"B-but.... Why did-didn't we go to th-the dock?? A-and r-ride a boat somewhere?" Polly asked, hoping asking more questions would distract her from the cold. 

Her mother shook her head. "N-no... We couldn't have done that. The d-darkness might've covered the dock by then..." 

"M-might've!?! Y-you didn't k-know?!" 

"I...I... Um... f-figured there wouldn't be any more boats sailing to and from there anyway... With all this darkness, of course... Of course...." 

"Th... That... s-sounds..." Polly tried to call her mom out on her poor excuse, but she was just too frozen to speak. 

"Dat sounds like a c-cra... crummy excuse, N-Nix.." 

Nixie turned her head toward Bob in confusion. "Wh...what? Are you saying, Bobby?" 

Bob stared off into the distance. He longed to go back home and sleep in the warmth of his bed, but he knew that was impossible. "D-dere was no h-harm in checkin first... Ya k-knew dere was a chance of esc-cape dere.... W-what the Rapo stopped ya...?"

"Oh... U-um... You know, um..." 'Well, you didn't bother to check either! Why blame me...?' It took a moment for Nixie to regain some of her composure. She knew she was the only one planning anything out, and that Bob likely didn't even think of checking the docks in the heat of the moment. She actually thought about leaving the village by boat many times. But the one thing that stopped her every time was her fear. "...E-even if there was a way.... Th-there's no way to know what to expect... The o-other villages might be worse off than where we w-were.... There's no way... There's no way...." While she did fear the darkness in other villages, she did have one other small fear that she was afraid to admit. She was scared of returning to her parents after going missing for so long. 'Only Creator knows how those two would react...' 

"...Y-ya got a point.... I haven't h-heard from Jack in a real long time... H-Hope he and the folks are alright in Lavasteam... N-nice.... hot..... L-Lavasteam...." 'Rapo... This snow is messin with our heads n' makin us lookin all ridiculous!'

Bob looked back toward Polly. She hadn't spoken for a while now, which was odd for her. On top of that, she was moving at a snail's pace, slowing everyone down as a result. "Polly? Ya doin okay?" 

"..." Polly, shaking rapidly, fully relied on her father's arm for support. She had a hard time gathering her words and saying them out loud. She felt horrible. "D-dad....." She cried. "I...I can't feel my legs......." 

"Dat can't be good.... Hang on..." Bob walked up to Nixie and handed her the clothes he was carrying. "Hold dis for a s-sec?" 

"O-oh... Of... Of course..." 

Bob then proceeded to lift Polly off the ground, and carry her in his arms. "Urk!" 'She's heavier than I remember!' "It's okay... you're o-okay... Y-you you're gonna be okay, okay?" He tried to reassure her, but it only seemed to make everything worse. 'Oh Creator, she's real cold....' As worried as Bob was, he knew he couldn't show too much concern. For all he knew, it would just jinx everything. "...Y-Ya got uhh... Um... Bangle with ya? Ah! I..! I m-meant...! B....Bon...Go?" 

Polly, squeezing her stuffed friend in her arms, didn't even bother to correct her dad. Though the fact that he caught the mistake on his own really meant a lot to her. "Mhmm..." 

"G-good. Dat's good... "

Nixie took the clothes that were handed to her and covered her daughter with them as if they were extra blankets. "There. H-hope that will help s-somehow..." 

"Th-thank thank you..." 

The three silently continued on their journey through the snow. The bitter wind brushed their cheeks. Eventually, the snow began to die down, and the air was less stiff. The knee-high snow turned into mere frost. Needless to say, everyone was relieved. The ice life is NOT a nice life.

The wide open snow fields slowly turned into a chilly forest. The trees were of a purplish hue and had seemingly no end to them. It was clear that they had entered the forest gate region. 

Bob, now getting tired of carrying her around, set Polly down by one of the many trees. "There ya go. Are ya feelin any better?" 

Polly slowly nodded. "Y-yeah." 

Nixie leaned down to feel Polly's arm. "She's still really cold..." She turned to her husband. "What should we do now?" 

Bob looked up at the sky. Even after all that time, was just as gray as it was before. "We gotta get some shelter. Can't rest out in da open..." 

"Where are we going to find this shelter, anyhow?" 

"We're gon have to build it from scratch... Don't expect nothin fancy, I don't got no tools to work with." 

"That's fine... But..." She looked down at Polly before returning her gaze to Bob. "Are you going to be alright by yourself?" 

Bob tried to reassure her with a smile. "I'll be good on my own. Don't worry bout me. Just worry bout her." 

"...Okay. Just be back soon." 

"I will." Bob stepped back from his family and got to work.

Now, Bob may be a carpenter, but he wasn't exactly experienced in wilderness survival. Lucky for the three Raposa, he managed to put a small shelter together out of branches and leaves. And for the restrictions he had, it was relatively spacious. Just big enough for everyone to lay in comfortably. 

Nixie had Polly wrapped up in her arms. "How are you feeling, baby? Are you warmer now?"

Polly yawned. "Yeah. I'm okay. I think Bongo's a little tired though. Are you tired, Bongo?" 

"..." 

"Yeah... He's pretty tired..." Polly's eyes had grown heavy from the exhausting journey she had been through. 

Nixie, who was tired as well, softly chuckled to herself. "It seems that you're tired too. How about we get ready for bedtime?" 

"Yeah… Okay." Polly stretched. 

"Are you well enough to get up on your own?" 

"I think so..." Polly slowly started to get up off of the ground. Although her legs were a little wobbly from sitting too long. 

Nixie reached out for her daughter in an attempt to stable her. "Are you alright?!" 

"I'm okay! I'm okay! My legs are just sleepy." 

"Come on, I'll help you over there." Nixie had her arm wrapped around Polly's body, helping to guide her to the makeshift home Bob had made. "Bobby! Is the shelter finished over there?" 

Bob looked back at his wife, and sighed. "It's 'bout as done as it's gonna get... Hope it works just fine." 

"It looks wonderful. Why don't you take a break and get some rest? It's been quite a long day." 

"It is gettin pretty late, huh? Alright. I'll take a breather." 

"That's what I wanted to hear! Besides, a good sleep in there will make the perfect test for the structure you made." 

"That's true..." 

Polly pulled her mother's arm toward the shelter. She was starting to get cranky from a lack of sleep. "Mooom... C'mon! We gotta go to bed! Bongo's really really tired!"

"Alright, Polly! Settle down! We're on our way. Why don't you go on ahead and get ready for dreamland?" Nixie suggested.

"Okay..." Polly yawned. "G'night...." She squeezed Bongo in her arms, and stepped inside. 

Nixie glanced at her husband. "We should follow her." 

Bob nodded. "Yeah, I guess we should..."

The two stepped inside the structure. The dirt floor was covered in a bedding of grass and leaves, which in turn was covered by the largest blanket they had brought. It was cozy to say the least.

Polly was already laying down, curled up underneath her very own blanket. She held onto her doll as tightly as she could. Her eyes were shut. As far as Nixie and Bob could tell, she was already fast asleep.

“She looks so peaceful…” Nixie whispered.

“That didn’t take very long at all, huh?”

“That journey must have drained all of the energy from her. I don’t believe I blame her.”

“Poor Polly… I sure hope all dat snow didn’t leave her sick…”

“I hope so too. She didn’t seem to be all that ill, just tired. ...I have faith that she’ll turn out alright."

Bob sighed. “Rapo, what’d we do to deserve any of this? We lost nearly everythin, and now we gotta live in this… this… whatever this is!”

“You’re the one who built the shack… I don’t see why you’re the one complaining.” Nixie mumbled.

“...What was that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing. It doesn’t mean anything. It’s fine.” Nixie clearly sounded annoyed. “It’s not a permanent solution, anyhow… We’re not staying too long.”

“...Are you insulting my work?”

“Bobby, please.”

“No no, I get it. I understand! I don’t wanna live here either! Who the Rapo would? In fact, it’s so awful dat any normal Raposa would rather sleep outside on the dirt and die!”

“We may as well be…” Nixie muttered.

“Excuse me?! I worked real hard to set this up! All by myself with no tools, no help of any kind, and you’re talkin to me like that?! A lil while ago, you said it was fantastic. I worked the best that I could under these circumstances, and now you’re mad it ain’t good enough?!” 

“Bobby, you know that isn’t what I meant.”

“Really? What else could you have meant by that?! I don’t understand anything you’re saying, Nix! First you said one thing, then you say the opposite? I don’t understand at all...” Bob crossed his arms and hung his head low. His eyes were starting to water in frustration. “...Explain to me, Nix. What’s wrong? What’d I do wrong? What the Rapo did I do to you to make you insult me like dat?!”

“Rapo, you didn’t do anything! Nothing is wrong! Why would you come to the conclusion that everything is your fault?! What the Rapo do you even think you did?”

“I-I dunno… I was just askin you that! Ya can’t just say ‘nothin is wrong’ right after complaining your rear off to me!”

“Well maybe I’m just feeling a little peeved.”

“Peeved?!”

“Of course I’m peeved! I didn’t want this! I didn't want to be forced out of my home, I didn’t want to have to worry about whether or not we’ll make it out of this okay, and I surely didn’t want you to yell at me!”

“Yell at ya?! Nix, you’re da one dat started it!”

“Bobby, what the Rapo are you talking about? I didn’t start anything! You just got mad at me out of nowhere!”

“Out of- What?! I-I would never do dat to you! I would never yell or get mad at you for no reason!”

“Then why are you yelling at me right now then?”

“B-because... I’m mad because you insulted me!” He began to cry. “I’m mad because you decided to be mean at me for no reason! I’m mad… because I don’t understand why you would do that…”

“Bobby?”

“That… that really hurt, Nix… Why would you go and do that?”

“Bobby… I… I’m so sorry.” She gently lifted his chin up so she could see his face better. “I’m sorry.”

Bob looked at her and sniffled. “I don’t understand, Nix. I-I know it ain’t the best I’ve done, but you ain’t gotta be mean about it…”

“I wasn’t trying to be mean to you… I… I was just frustrated. And I ended up saying the wrong thing… I know that wasn’t right for me to snap like that, but… I’m sorry…”

“I know you’re sorry… I know you’re just stressed out. Dat just… really got to me for some reason. I-I’m sorry I overreacted.”

“Bobby… You didn’t overreact. It’s okay. It’s my fault for upsetting you.” She sighed. “We’re both just... frazzled from all of this. I understand.”

“...I forgive ya Nix. I know ya didn’t mean what you said.” He faintly smiled for a moment. “But… There’s somethin I don’t understand. Why’d ya say it looked good earlier? I don’t get it.”

“...You want me to be honest? I... was trying to be polite. I didn’t want something like this to happen. Especially not in front of Polly. ...Wait a minute. Polly!” She turned around to face Polly, hoping that she was fast asleep and didn’t hear anything they said.

Polly, who was watching the entire time, hid under her blanket once she got caught. ‘Rapo! She saw me!’ She then pretended to be sleeping, hoping that she wasn’t in trouble.

Nixie sighed and turned back to her husband. “We really need to pull ourselves together, don’t we?”

Bob nodded. “If I were her, I wouldn’t want my folks arguing over nothin… I’d want em to be happy. I’d wanna be sure that it’s all gonna be okay. ...We gotta do better for her.”

“You’re right. From now on, we have to stay positive. No matter what happens.”

“Of course. We gotta set an example. It’s what Polly deserves. It’s what Hunter deserves too.”

“...Yeah.”

“...I wonder if Hunter’s doin alright. Maybe… Maybe he’s alive somehow?”

“I don’t want to talk about Hunter...”

“Alright, I understand.”

The two stood there for a moment in awkward silence. With all the chaos in their lives, it had been a long time since either of them found a moment of joy. When Hunter disappeared, arguments began to take his place. And with each new horrible event, it just kept getting worse. And that was something nobody wanted.

The two couldn't help but get lost in thought. They truly wanted to set a good example for Polly and be positive, but where would they even begin? It wasn't like there were many positives that came to mind. But neither of them wanted to go to sleep on a negative note, so the two thought in silence.

"...Our anniversary is tonight, ain't it?" Bob broke the silence.

"It is? I didn't know that... Are you sure?"

"Sure I am! I mean, don't ya feel it in the air?"

"...Do you even know what the current date is, Bobby?"

"Ah... No, but you don't know either! It's close enough, ain't it? Besides, dates don't matter now anyway!"

"Well, you're not wrong!" Nixie laughed.

"...You remember when we first met?" Bob reminisced. "You didn't have a home for yourself, and I let ya stay with me."

Nixie smirked. "Oh, how could I forget? It was obvious you fell for me the moment I met you."

"I was, huh?"

She nodded. "...You know, Bobby, it's funny. I feel as homeless as I felt that very day."

"Oh really?"

"Oh~! Mr. Builde, I have been left abandoned and homeless! May I stay here in your fine home~? Only for a short while~!"

"Oh! Are ya sure you want to stay in this shack of mine?"

"Bobby, please. I don't want to start that again."

"Hey, I'm just stating facts here! And to be honest, our home at the time wasn't that much better than this shed. "

"Oh Bobby, stop being so hard on yourself. Come on, why won't you let me inside your cozy home~?"

"Ah.. I dunno~" He blushed. "I think it'd be more romantic out under the stars~" He leaned in for a kiss.

"Bobby! No!" Nixie laughed. "It's too cold out! Besides, the stars disappeared a long time ago!"

"Ah, c'mon Nix! Can't we pretend there's stars?" He smirked. "It'd be just like that one romantic time we had in twilite years back~"

She flushed a bright red. "B-Bobby!" She hid her face and laughed out of embarrassment. 

"Oh... I uh... I didn't mean it like that!" Bob blushed from embarrassment himself. "Just... We were so in love back then... I miss it, Nix."

"Bobby..." Nixie held Bob's hands in hers, and smiled. "You know that never went away. We're just... going through obstacles. It's normal. ...Though I admit these latest obstacles are far more extreme than anyone could anticipate."

"That's true, this ain't exactly something I expected to deal with." Bob kissed her hands. "But we just gotta tackle these problems head on, huh?"

Nixie nodded. "We just have to stick together from here on out."

"I can handle that." Bob looked back at Polly, who was asleep for real this time, and turned back to Nixie. "You ready to hit the hay?"

"I'm not sure..." She said, hesitant. "Something doesn't feel right. Maybe it's only my nerves, but..."

"...Ya scared?"

"...A little. I mean, what if something shows up while we sleep and... makes us sleep for good?"

"That's not gonna happen. I won't allow it."

"Bobby, I'm serious. We could get really hurt." She glanced over at Polly. "...Or worse."

"Well I'm serious too. I'll stay up and keep watch for anythin that'll go bump in the night."

"No, you need sleep. Especially after you've done so much..."

"You done a bunch too though." Bob pondered for a moment. "Alright, why don't we take turns then?"

"...That could work. But what if-?"

"Hey, no 'what if's! Just go and get some sleep. I'll watch first." He yawned.

"You know, I'm not that tired." She said before yawning herself. "I think you should rest while I watch first."

"Nah, I've already made up my mind. I'm watching first."

"After all that labor? Aren't you being stubborn? Let me watch."

"Nix. Remember we said no fighting over nothin."

Nixie looked at the ground, ashamed. "...Yes. You're right, I'm sorry."

"Don't worry 'bout it. Now go get sleep. The sooner ya do, the sooner my shift starts. And the sooner my shift starts, the sooner it ends."

"Alright." She kissed him on the cheek. "I'll see you again soon. Love you."

Bob blushed. "Love ya too hun."

Nixie walked further into the shelter, checking her sleeping daughter before laying down to sleep herself.

The two followed through with their agreement and took turns keeping watch while the other slept. Nothing posed threat to them then.

Bongo was held tight in Polly's loving arms. It had been absorbing as much energy as it could, but it knew it only had a fraction of the energy needed to reach it's goal of a long life. 

Luckily, Bongo managed to absorb a massive amount of energy a few months back. It wasn't near enough to reach it's goal, but it was just enough for it to go and seek enough. 

Bongo had been waiting patiently and desperately for the opportunity to fully feed off it's host, but no good opportunities presented themselves. It wouldn't dare risk everything with other Raposa present. If it failed, it would waste it's precious energy. And if the Raposa found out what Bongo was made to do, it could get destroyed. So Bongo needed to be as careful as possible. 

It quickly scanned the area, checking if it's opportunity finally arrived. 

It knew there was no longer a town of Raposa to potentially catch it, but Polly's parents were still there. 

Bongo considered making it's move while the parents slept, but it would be far too high risk considering how protective they were. And with the new environment, the two were more high alert than usual. 

Bongo knew the only chance it had at draining it's host would be when Polly was all alone. 

Bongo rested once more. It couldn't drain itself now. 

The waiting game wasn't over yet. And Bongo knew if it played its cards right, it would surely win.

[spookyboywhump]

Sudden thought if his Mums don't know about Vanessa they might not understand fully his connection to the collar, and while they love him and are smart enough to not force him out of it, it wouldn't be nice seeing your son continue to wear it, what if one of them slipped it while he slept, maybe they didn't want him to choke, or maybe hoping he wouldn't notice for a few hours then realise he didn't need didn't (like apernt letting go if their kids bike) but Zander DOES notice immediately and to make it worse he is in a bed, and has just woken up, not fully aware.

 Hi yes hello, I absolutely loved this and I may have Gone Off a bit

Here’s some words for That, ft a bit of Zander’s mom’s pov

CW: Again I don’t have a short term for this but Zander gets his collar taken, panic, vague references to past noncon, brief mention of strangulation

***

 In many ways, he was the same.

 Valerie easily picked up on the familiar things about him, he may not have been the bright eyed, lanky teenage boy she’d last seen seven years ago, but he was still her son.  He had his father’s eyes, and on the off chance that he smiled, he looked younger, closer to the Daniel she remembered. He still had similar habits and mannerisms, he was still eager to help out, still full of energy that he didn’t seem to know what to do with even on his worst pain days. 

 In other ways though, he came back different. 

 After seven years, it was only natural that he looked older, but his constant tired, angry expression somehow made him look even older. There was a scar across the left side of his face that was all too obvious, and more that weren’t as visible, and she knew he planned to keep them that way. For a while his hair was longer than he’d ever let it get before, a mess around his face that he didn’t seem to care to deal with, and his teeth, those gold metal fangs didn’t quite fit his appearance and she’d been horrified when he pointed out just how many of his teeth had to be replaced. He looked different than her Daniel had, he was angrier, scarier, after seven years of torture and pain, of course he was different, but she loved him all the same. 

 She was still getting used to some of his newer habits, the most recent of which was his insistence that he sleep with his door left open. She knew he hadn’t been sleeping well lately, but when she passed by his room he was fast asleep for once, snoring and holding a pillow close to his chest. Typically he fell asleep holding Elias, by now she was used to him being over there as well but tonight he seemed to be at home. She hoped he was doing alright on his own as she wandered into Zander’s room, deciding to check on him the way she would when he was little. It didn’t matter how old he got though, she’d always worry about him, especially now that he was finally home. 

 She couldn’t help but notice that even as he slept, he still wore his collar. She hated that thing, she hated that he still wore it at all. She couldn’t imagine wanting to keep it after everything he’d been through but he had yet to take it off, and seemed hesitant to answer questions about it though. She was worried though, specifically about him sleeping with it on, already overthinking and unwillingly picturing scenarios of choking or strangulation, she’d always told him not to sleep with things around his throat. She knew she wouldn’t be able to shake the thought of something terrible happening, without a second thought she knelt down beside his bed, gently undoing the buckle on the collar, careful not to wake him up. She looked it over as she got to her feet, reading the small nameplate on the collar. 

 Zander. Property Of Cain Whitaker.

 She narrowed her eyes, an expression on her face similar to his when he got angry. She hated everything about it, the bastardization of his middle name, the idea that somebody considered him property, that for seven years her son was kept from her by some sadistic bastard made her so, so fucking angry. 

 Her attention was dragged away from her seething anger when she heard Georgia calling for her downstairs. She knew if she stayed she’d just get more worked up and more upset, without a second thought she left the room, taking his collar with her.

 ***

 He knew something was wrong the second he woke up. Something was missing, something was off, he was already consumed with panic by the time he fully snapped awake and sat up. He glanced around his room but everything was normal, his door was left open, there was sunlight streaming in through the window. He reached up and anxiously ran his hands through his messy hair, trying to calm down, only to finally think to touch his neck, hands clasping around his throat when he realized his collar was missing. He held his breath for a moment, trying to think, trying to figure out what the hell could have happened.

 He jumped out of bed, immediately shaking out his blankets and checking under his pillows, wondering if it somehow came off in his sleep. He dropped to his knees and checked under his bed but it wasn’t there, and the longer he went without knowing where it was, the more panicked he began to feel. He didn’t know where else it could be, and finally, in a desperate attempt, he darted out of his room and rushed down the stairs, missing a step and falling part of the way down only to scramble back to his feet, his heart pounding erratically in his chest. 

 He found his mom in the living room, she looked surprised when he came in looking scared out of his mind.

 “Da- Zander, what’s wrong?” She asked gently.

 “My- mom do-do you- do you know where…” His thoughts were all over the place, he could hardly think straight, could hardly speak, and finally he just settled for motioning towards his neck, taking a deep, shuddering breath. “My-my c-collar, w-where…” 

 “Oh! I was worried about you sleeping with that thing on, I took it off you last night.” She sighed. 

 ”Where is it?” He asked, feeling lightheaded. He was almost scared for her to answer, scared she’d thrown it away, scared he couldn’t get it back- God, he didn’t know what he’d do if it was gone for good. 

 “Hey, it’s okay.” She said gently as she approached him. “I still have it, I left it down here last night.” She said.

 “I-I need it- please, mom, I need it.” He said seriously, his voice cracking, and he could see the worry all over her face. He followed close behind her while she went to get it, she’d gotten distracted and left it downstairs on the kitchen counter. She handed it to him and he was quick to snatch it, in a hurry to get it around his neck again, accidentally tightening it just a bit too tight, but he hardly cared, all that mattered was that he had it back. 

 “Are you okay…?” She asked softly, and he shook his head, his hands still resting around his throat.

 “N-No, no I don’t, I can’t, I can’t lose it…” He murmured, not even thinking as he began to wander away. He felt like he didn’t even have complete control of himself at the moment, his body carrying him back upstairs, back to his room. He shut the door and fell against it, sliding to the floor as he kept his hands wrapped around his throat, taking slow, shuddering breaths as he struggled to calm down and reign himself back in. 

 A part of him knew it was bad, knew he should be over this by now but he just wasn’t. He didn’t feel safe without it, he felt as though he were back there, as though he could feel her hands on him again, touching and grabbing and never ever giving any consideration to what he wanted or how he felt. He swore he was going to be sick, holding his head in his hands and blinking back tears. At some point he heard a knock on his door but he didn’t say anything, didn’t move, and she didn’t try to come in, he heard her walk away and he sighed in relief. 

 It took a long time for him to calm down enough to think straight, and even then he was still scared, still weighed down by memories he’d rather keep buried. He finally struggled to his feet, still shaking as he numbly moved around the room, getting together a change of clothes before leaving his room, walking down the hall to his bathroom. In the back of his mind he knew, the only thing that would make him feel safe and clean again was a long, long shower.