#please i need more people to watch this show
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Some really cool ongoing research and clinical studies are being done about the affects of what have been recently termed ‘ultra-processed’ foods have on bodies - that sounds like a “duh” project but!!! It’s really awesome because the research is attempting to narrow down the whys and whats and it’s been yielding some cool results????
Short notes:
- researchers are attempting to nail down categories of processed food - I’m not sold on the categories yet, but nothing is 100% and I would consider this still early stage research, though ground breaking
- processed food isn’t necessarily a bad thing, and actually there are quite a few processed foods that aren’t harmful to you, which is good, because people deserve ease of access to food
- ‘ultra-processed’ is a really new term - currently this category encompasses foods that meet a very specific criteria: example, whole-food products which have been broken down into individual nutritive or non-nutritive components and re-configured into another product with the addition of other additives used in place of now-missing natural components - the difference between whole fat yogurt and low-fat yogurt is a good example (full fat yogurt requires less ingredients - literally just milk and a bacterial agent to activate the coagulative properties of lactic acid on already existing proteins; skim or low fat yogurt requires a few additional gelling, preservation and setting agents because in removing the fat you remove a lot of the protein so you have to mimic the natural process with something else; also if you have an instant pot use it to make yogurt it’s fun and easy and tastes good).
- (also please watch out for health influencers and companies throwing around the new term ‘ultra-processed’ and don’t let them make it confusing you know they’re gonna run with that one tbh)
- CARBS ARE GOOD FOR YOU. YOU NEED THEM. That is very important ok don’t stop giving yourself carbs
- on that note - FATS ARE GOOD FOR YOU. YOU NEED THEM. That is ALSO important and something you should not stop eating.
- so the really cool point: research is showing that THE LITERAL PROCESSES we use to manufacture cheap food products are causing issues - because they are too calorie dense!! Example: dehydrating foods concentrates calories and nutrients and makes those foods super calorie-rich (think protein bars before a marathon); the reason for this isn’t necessarily bad either - we have foods like this because food researches and nutritionists have spent decades trying to pack as much nutrition into inexpensive food as possible to ostensibly keep things like pellagra from happening. There are other affects manufacturing has in foods but this point is the salient one
- in terrible, unscientific terms, you could think of it as something like we’ve concentrated the power of our food a little too much and need to pull back - dial it down a bit, as it were.
- additionally, a loaf of sourdough from your local bakery made in house is healthy, as a opposed to a loaf of wonder bread at the grocery store or the frozen shipped in bread at the Panera - both of which have shelf-stable additives, but! That also doesn’t mean that those products are wholly bad - again, see point above about how not all processed foods are bad.
- another interesting part of the research, though to me it reads a bit more speculatively at the moment, is that the hyper-intense pairings of fat -salt-sugar in foods is something that our bodies get super excited about and want to eat more of, because those combinations so rarely occur naturally. I want to see more on that point over the years, but it does tie back to our food being a bit too concentrated in all points thing above.
- in related but slightly separate research we are finding that starch foods - potatoes, rice, etc - if made about 12 hours ahead and chilled then reheated have more accessible nutrients and healthy carbohydrates and also don’t hit your body’s sugar levels negatively.
All that to say that OP is right and should say it.
There’s a nice, condensed article in The New Yorker this week if you want to read a little more and get the names of the researchers - don’t let the title scare you off, it’s written like clickbait on purpose.
‘bread is bad for you’ ‘rice is bad for you’ sorry im not subscribing to the idea that staple grains that have been integral to cultures for centuries are evil. i love you carbs
#food stuff#work things#this just came out and my coworker is so excited because she teaches nutrition and menu development
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You're just a little bit too much like me | Spencer Reid x Reader
Enemies to lovers | angsty fluff
Word count: 1755
Warnings: Normal criminal minds type of violence, mention of guns and gunshots, age gap (Reader is about 25, and Spencer is in his late 30s)
Content: Spencer being an asshole because he doesn't know how to deal with his feelings and how you remind him of his older self, past Spencer trauma (implied but not directly mentioned), self-doubt, Post prison! Spence
It was a difficult situation, only your second week on the job and the first time you had to make that kind of decision. You went alone to a location where the suspect might have been at, all of your teammates were further away so, as reckless as you now recognize it was, you went there alone, instead of waiting like Spencer and Emily asked you too. You didn't want to lose your chance, there were more than 3 days on the field at stake here, you did not want to disappoint your colleagues and just stand there waiting like a dumb newbie, so you made the decision.
“I'm going in” You warn your teammates in the radio, not waiting for a response before storming into the unsubs house.
You bust the door open with your feet, storming into the house. As you look inside, you find the unsub taking his gun from a drawer. Thinking you had an advantage as his back was facing you, you rush to try and immobilize him, but somehow he managed to turn around and shoot you.
You growled in pain as your body dropped to the ground, just before you passed out completely you heard the sound of rushed footsteps. You heard two voices, one you recognized as Emily's going after the unsub, and the other as Reid's talking to you.
“Please don’t go to sleep, we need you awake” His voice was soothing, far different from the tone he always used with you ever since you joined the team this year, but he sounded so worried, and you really did try to stay awake for him, for your team, to show that you were okay and that they needed to go after what's important, the unsub, but you couldn't. The last thing you heard as your vision got black was him yelling at his radio, “Medical, we need medical right now”. And then, everything went black.
You are now back at your first day on the job. Still at your house, confused as to what outfit you should use, so anxious about being so young at the top team of profilers, even thought it was a last year internship you hoped to impress them enough that they would hire you officially for the team, so your anxiety was through the roof wondering whether you really deserved to be there (goddamn that impostor syndrome). But most of your worries went away when you met the team, you would never imagine that the best profilers in the FBI and maybe in the world would be such good, kind and even funny people. They all welcomed you, seeming excited to be able to work with you, except from one of them.
Doctor Spencer Reid, you had read about him and his genius mind, you even went to a couple of his lectures on forensic psychology, honestly? You were a fan, and you were so excited to meet and work with someone you looked up to. Unfortunately, he didn't seem as eager to meet his new coworker. He just stood there in the back, staring at you while you introduced yourself to the team, the most he did was mutter a “morning” when you sat next to him in the briefing room.
Never meet your heroes, they say.
Now, you're back at… Where are you again?
Your eyes begin to open, you're completely adrift until you finally begin to recognize the awful white light, and the coldness of the room. You're at the hospital, no idea as to how much time has passed.
Jennifer comes into your line of vision, holding your hand, “Hey, how are you feeling?” her voice is calm, as she watches you sit up in the hospital bed.
“I'm fine, I think... I didn't even realize what happened back then. Oh shit, did you guys catch him?” You abruptly try to sit up, remembering how you couldn't get the unsub when you got shot, guilt washing over you as you started to piece together what happened
“Hey slow down, Emily went after him and made the arrest, the victim was rescued. He shot you, but it just grazed you. You did lose a lot of blood, that's why you passed out, but the doctors say you'll be fine to leave today. Don't worry.” She says as the doctor comes in to do his final checking.
You just agree with your head, lost in your own thoughts. You knew it wasn't your fault that you got shot, but still you felt so stupid. The hurt of not being able to catch the unsub might've been even bigger than the one from your wound, all of them had been in even more difficult situations than you and made it out without so much as a scratch, and you couldn't even catch an unsub that was alone?
After a few hours, you were back on the jet, finally heading home. The guilty was still bothering you, and you even apologized for the mistake. Hotch just asked you to be more careful and follow instructions next time, but overall, the team seemed genuinely happy you were fine. Except, of course, for Spencer, who ever since you got in the jet was staring daggers at you.
Later, the jet finally landed, and you were eager to get home. You quickly went to the office to get a few of your things, Unfortunately, you and Spencer were now all alone in an uncomfortable silence waiting for the elevator.
“That was reckless” Spencer mutters under his breath
“I'm sorry, what?” You turn in your heels to face him, had you heard that right? Is that the first thing he's going to tell you after you just got shot?
“What you did on the case, was reckless and naive. You should've followed our instructions, you can't just do what you feel like doing” he's looking in your eye now, his voice coming out angry but with a hint of… worry?
“I'm sorry ok? I tried to do something, I just did not want to just stay there waiting while he could be doing god knows what inside that house” Your voice comes out more shaky than you wanted it to, the weight of the guilt pressing into your chest
“Still, it was reckless and stupid, you should never just storm into, alone, a place where an unsub might be, you never know what he might do to you, what might be waiting inside.” His gaze is cold, almost as if he's not actually here talking to you, but somewhere inside his head and his memories.
“Trust me, I know that. I regret my decision, but I wasn't doing what I felt like, I tried my best, Reid.” You turn to look directly in his eye. Yes you did something wrong, but you wouldn't let him out of all people talk like that to you “I might be the youngest on the team, the one with less experience but trust me… I'm not dumb, I earned my place here.” Your voice shaky when you said that last sentence, the insecurity you felt showing through your words.
Something in his gaze shifted after that, his expression became softer, almost sympathetic. “Listen, I'm not saying you're not qualified, I'm sorry if it came off like that, just be careful… That could have ended a lot worse, trust me I know”
“ I will” The air between you two less intimidating now but still heavy with tension, you two step in the elevator, the whole way to the garage an awkward silence until you two finally reach the bullpen's garage.
Even thought you felt like now maybe he didn't absolutely want you gone from the team, you were still curious as to why he is so cold to you
“Sorry, I need to ask… Why do you hate me?” You turn to him, after finally gathering the courage to ask this question
“What do you mean, don't hate you”
“Yes you do, I mean you're not obligated to like me but since I joined, you didn't even meet me yet and just gave this cold look”
His eyebrows furrowed as he processed your words, clearly taken aback by your directness. He sighed, a hint of regret in his eyes, and rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. "It's not about you personally," he finally admitted, his voice softer than before.
“What is it about, then?”
He takes a deep breath before starting to talk “You're only 3 years older than me when I joined this team, I know what it does you, to your mind. I guess I just saw way too much of me, of who I used to be, in you, and it terrified me to be honest” His cold facade disappeared completely now, in its place a soft and genuine expression.
“So you were, and I'm sorry for the words, an asshole to me because you were worried?” You almost can't wrap your head around it, all this time you felt like one of your biggest references in the BAU hated you, but instead he was caring for you.
“Yes, I see how it comes out as “asshole” behavior, but my brain just went full shutdown when i saw you” His face turns slightly red when he notices what he just said – Freudian slip or just a bad choice of words? He doesn't's know for sure – His hand goes to awkwardly scratch the back of his neck “I mean… for the resemblance, of how I acted when I had just joined, of course”
You give him a small smile, and just like that your side that has been a fan and read all of this man's articles comes back to life “Of course. Thank you for worrying but maybe instead of hating me you could… I don't know, if it's not too much of a bother of course, help me? I value your worries Doc, maybe you could help me not make the same mistakes you did”
He nodded, a hint of relief washing over his features. "I'd be happy to help," he said, a genuine smile finally breaking through. "I might not have all the answers, but I can definitely share what I've learned along the way."
“I'm happy to hear that, thanks, Doc. Reid” You wave at him as you begin walking over to your car.
“Hey, just call me Spencer” He smiles warmly at you
“See you tomorrow Spencer”
#spencer reid#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid x you#spencer reid x bestfriend!reader#spencer reid x fem!reader#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid fanfiction#criminal minds#spencer reid angst#spencer reid x reader angst#criminal minds angst
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luigi’s always taking advantage of us in bed but when do we take advantage of him?? #usehim
love this prompt i definitely need to write more sub luigi fics
☆ please (luigi mangione x reader)
☆ warnings: rough sex, overstim, crying, begging, corruption, noncon if you squint?
☆ reader takes luigi's virginity and rides him until he's crying and begging
you’re sprawled out on the couch, half-watching tv, but your attention keeps drifting to luigi. he’s sitting beside you, one leg casually tucked under him, his broad shoulders filling out his black t-shirt. the shirt fits him just right—snug across his shoulders, stretching slightly over his chest and arms. it’s simple, but it’s working. the gray sweats he’s wearing hang low on his hips, letting the band of his boxers peek out. his posture's stiff as he nervously fiddles with his phone. the two of you have hung out plenty of times before, but tonight feels different, there's some tension in the air, some feeling you can’t quite shake.
you’ve noticed it for a while now: how he looks at you when he thinks you’re not paying attention, how his smile lingers a little longer than it should. you know he's into you. and honestly? the fact that he's a little clueless about what to do with that attraction just makes it more fun.
"so," you begin, glancing over at him with a smirk, "you ever hooked up with anyone at one of your little frat parties?"
he pauses, clearly not expecting you to ask that, then chuckles nervously, rubbing the back of his neck.
“uh, i mean… yeah, i’ve... hooked up with people, just not, like... that much, y'know?” he looks down at his phone, like maybe he can escape the conversation if he stares hard enough.
you let the silence hang for a moment, taking a calculated breath before leaning in slightly, watching the way his body tenses. "really? i find that hard to believe, especially for a guy as handsome as you," you say, your voice low.
he glances at you quickly, his eyes darting away when they meet yours. it’s cute—his usual cocky frat boy act falling apart under your attention.
“i mean, i’ve just been busy with school, that's all. not like i’m... avoiding it,” he mutters, but you can tell by the way he avoids your gaze that there’s more to it than just being "busy."
you smile knowingly, then shift just a little closer on the couch, your knee brushing his. it's subtle, but you notice the way he freezes at the contact. "y'know," you say casually, your voice low, "if you haven't had a real hookup, maybe i should, like, show you what you’re missing."
luigi's eyes widen, his gaze snapping to yours. for a moment, he seems frozen, processing your words. his brows press together a little. "and what exactly would that entail?"
you lean in closer, your lips nearly brushing his ear. "well," you murmur, "i could start by showing you how to properly kiss someone." your hand slides onto his thigh, feeling the warmth of his skin through the thin material of his sweats. "then maybe we could explore a few... other things."
luigi swallows hard, his breath catching. you can feel the tension in his body, the way he's holding himself back.
"i, uh... i think i'd like that," he manages to say, his voice barely above a whisper.
you pull back slightly, meeting his eyes. there's a mix of desire and nervousness in his gaze that sends a thrill through you. you decide to take charge, knowing he needs a little push.
"come here," you say softly, cupping his face with your free hand. you guide him closer, feeling his warm breath against your lips. pausing just a tiny bit away from his face, you let the anticipation build for a moment before closing the distance.
the kiss starts gentle, almost tentative. luigi's lips are soft, and you can taste a hint of the beer he'd been drinking earlier. as you deepen the kiss, you feel him relax into it, his hand coming up to rest on your waist.
you break away briefly, watching his face. his eyes are closed, lips slightly parted, a flush spreading across his cheeks. when his eyes flutter open, they're dark with want. "how was that?” you ask, grinning "so good." luigi's voice comes out barely a whisper. his eyes are still locked on yours, filled with a mixture of awe and growing desire. you can't help but feel a surge of satisfaction at his reaction. "oh, we're just getting started," you murmur, running your fingers through his soft curls. he leans into your touch.
"show me more," he breathes, and the vulnerability in his voice sends a shiver down your spine.
you shift, swinging one leg over to straddle his lap. his hands instinctively move to your hips, gripping tightly as if to steady himself. you can feel the heat radiating from his body, the slight tremor in his fingers.
"you’re so shaky," you whisper, placing your hands on his chest. you can feel his heart racing beneath your palms. as you sit in his lap you can feel him hardening beneath you.
“are you already fucking hard?” you scoff, a smug grin playing on your lips. he can’t even look you in the eyes. “sorry,” he mutters. you look down at him,
"that’s right." you say, your voice husky. you grind down against him slightly, eliciting a soft gasp.
luigi's grip on your hips tightens, his fingers digging into your skin. you can see the internal struggle playing out on his face—the desire to let go warring with his nervousness.
you lean in, trailing kisses along his jaw. "relax," you murmur against his skin. "just feel."
his head falls back, exposing the column of his throat. you take the opportunity to nip and suck at the sensitive skin there, leaving a mark that will be visible tomorrow. the thought of everyone seeing it, knowing what you did, sends a thrill through you.
luigi lets out a low moan, his hips bucking up involuntarily. "god," he breathes.
“i've never done this before, i'm sorry” he says, looking up at you with his wide brown eyes. he says it so desperately, and you know in that moment, you need to fucking ruin him.
"shh," you soothe, cupping his face in your hands. "i'm gonna take care of that."
his eyes search yours, vulnerability and trust shining in them. you lean in, capturing his lips in a deep, passionate kiss. as you explore his mouth with your tongue, you feel some of the tension leave his body.
your hands slide down his chest, feeling the defined muscles beneath his shirt. when you reach the hem, you break the kiss just long enough to murmur, "can i take this off?"
luigi nods eagerly, lifting his arms to help you remove the shirt. as it comes off, you can't help but admire his toned physique. your fingers trace the lines of his abs, feeling him shiver beneath your touch.
"you're fuckin’ perfect," you breathe, leaning in to press kisses along his collarbone. he's unbearably hard beneath you and you can feel his erection pressing into your inner thigh. you grind down against him again, relishing the way his breath hitches.
"please," luigi whimpers, his hips jerking up to meet yours.
"please what?" you tease, nipping at his earlobe. "use your words, lu." he swallows hard, his cheeks flushing an even deeper shade of red.
"i... i need..." he trails off, struggling to articulate his desires. you decide to take pity on him.
"you want me to touch you?" you ask, your hand hovering just above the waistband of his sweats.
luigi nods frantically. "yes, god yes." he breathes.
slowly, torturously, you slide your hand beneath the fabric. when your fingers wrap around his length, luigi lets out a strangled moan, his head falling back against the couch. he's already dripping precum you stroke him slowly, savoring the way he trembles beneath you.
his cock is hot and heavy in your hand, pulsing with each movement. you use his precum to slick your motions, making each stroke smoother.
"fuck," luigi gasps, his hips bucking into your touch. his eyes are squeezed shut, lips parted as he pants heavily.
you lean in, pressing open-mouthed kisses along his neck.
"does that feel good, baby?" you murmur against his skin.
he nods, unable to form words. his hands grip your hips tighter, fingers digging in hard enough to leave marks.
you speed up your strokes, twisting your wrist on the upstroke in a way that makes him cry out. "you're so responsive," you mutter, nipping at his earlobe. "i love it."
“i'm close,” he whines.you stop abruptly, pushing off his chest to look down at him. he’s looking up at you, wide eyed and needy.
“why'd you stop?” he practically begs.
“did i say you could fucking finish?” you chuckle cruelly.
“please,” he whines, his voice shaky.
“please let me finish,” he groans.
"anything you want, luigi" you coo, sliding down his lap and kneeling on the floor in front on the couch, both your hands planted on his thighs. you drag his sweatpants and boxers down to his ankles, letting his erection spring free, his tip pink and swollen, glistening with precum.
"i'll let you finish," you say, taking his length in your hand before guiding the tip into your mouth. he's completely overwhelmed by the sight of you stroking him, taking him in your mouth and sucking softly.
"fuck," he breathes, his head falling back against the couch. his hands grasp at your hair as you slide your mouth down around his cock. you let him hit the back of your throat as you look up at him. you move up and down, the sound of you gagging on his thick cock fills the room.
he's lost in the sensation, his hips thrusting forward into your mouth, trying desperately to chase his release. he's so close, his entire body tense.
"fuck, please," he pleads, his voice strained. "let me cum, please." you pull off him, stroking him hard and fast. "beg for it," you tease, a smirk playing on your lips.
"please," luigi begs, his voice cracking. "i need to cum, please let me cum." you continue to stroke him, feeling his cock throb in your hand.
"let go, baby" you murmur, leaning forward to swirl your tongue around his tip.
"oh, fuck" he moans, his hips jerking erratically as his orgasm hits him.
you swallow down every drop of his cum, continuing to stroke him through his climax. he's gasping and shuddering, his fingers tangled in your hair.
when he's finally spent, you sit back, wiping the corner of your mouth with your thumb.
"you felt so fucking good," he pants, a smile spreading across his face.
"oh, you thought we were done?" you stifle a laugh.
"i'm nowhere near fuckin' finished with you." you say, his smile fading as you pull down your skirt and panties before climbing back onto his lap.
"but i just finished-" he says softly before you cut him off.
"you didn't think i was done with you did you? i haven't even come yet, luigi" you say, guiding his hand between your legs.
"just touch me," you command, pressing his hand firmly against your dripping cunt. he can feel how wet you are, how much you want him. he has no idea what to do, his fingers fumbling around between your thighs, his hand shaky.
"god, you're fucking useless." you mutter, gripping his cock firmly, slowly guiding him towards your entrance.
"you have no idea how much i've thought about this." you whisper, almost to yourself, slowly lowering yourself down on him, inch by inch.
you let out a low moan as you sink down fully, taking him all the way inside of you. he lets out a sharp gasp, his hips bucking up involuntarily. he looks up at you with those sweet brown eyes, his lips slightly puffy from being kissed.
"god, you're fucking perfect" you moan, your head tilting back in pleasure as you start to move. he's still overwhelmed by the new sensations, his eyes squeezing shut as you ride him.
"god, it's too much" he gasps, his fingers digging into you. you're lost in the feeling of him inside you, filling you up.
"i know, baby, i know." you mutter, moving more roughly. he moans with every movement, his hips thrusting up to meet yours. he's completely under your spell, his body responding to yours.
"fuck, i'm close" he moans, his fingers digging into your hips.
"not yet," you order, grabbing a fistful of his hair and yanking his head back.
"i can't take it," he whines, looking up at you once again, his eyes glassy, tears hanging from his dark eyelashes.
"shut the fuck up and take it." you groan, picking up the pace. he cries out as you ride him harder and faster, the sound of your bodies colliding echoing through the room.
"god, you feel so good," you moan, leaning down to kiss him deeply. you break the kiss, staring at his pretty face. he's all fucked out and crying,
"you're being so rough," he sobs.
"cum for me," you murmur, feeling your own orgasm approaching.
"god, i'm close" he manages to say, his voice strained and shaky.
"cum." you respond harshly, riding him harder.
he lets out a loud groan as he cums inside you, his cock twitching inside you. the feeling of him spilling inside you pushes you over the edge, and you cry out, your walls clenching around him.
as you both come down from your highs, the realization of what just happened starts to sink in. luigi's gaze falls away from yours, and he lets his head rest against the couch.
"you okay?" you ask, a little out of breath.
"yeah, just... a lot." he sniffles.
#luigi mangione#luigi mangione smut#luigi mangione x reader#luigi mangione x yn#luigi mangione fanfic#real person fiction#luigi mangione imagine#luigi mangione fanfiction
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Dating sevika headcanons pt 2 (sfw and some not)
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Sevika’s idea of a “romantic date” is… sitting in a dark alleyway, smoking cigars, and gambling while you perch on her lap, straddling her thick thighs. She’ll never admit it, but she likes how possessive people get when they see you two together. Her way of saying “I love you” is to make the whole room uncomfortable by casually wrapping her arm around your waist and glaring at anyone who dares to look too long.
When you’re mad at her, Sevika doesn’t apologize. Instead, she’ll sulk for a few hours, refusing to speak to you, until she storms back into your shared space, throws you onto the bed, and proceeds to make the entire night about you. “That’s her apology” she’ll grunt, while making sure you’re well taken care of.
Sevika is not a morning person—but if you curl up next to her, she won’t push you away. In fact, she’s more likely to pull you even closer, whispering unintelligible words into your hair as she lazily strokes your back with her human hand, all the while pretending like she’s not the softest thing when it comes to you.
If you ever get jealous, Sevika will smirk and stir the pot even more. Someone flirts with you at a bar? She’ll let it happen, waiting to see if you snap. When you do, she’ll walk up, wrap an arm around your shoulders, and pull you into her side, making it very clear to the other person that you belong to her. She thrives on watching men squirm when they realize she’s not someone you want to mess with.
When she’s really into you, she can’t keep her hands off you. You’ll be sitting across from her at the table, and next thing you know, she’s pulling you onto her lap like it’s nothing, leaning in to kiss you while making sure everyone around knows she’s already claimed you. Not that you’re complaining.
Sevika will NEVER let you get anywhere near Shimmer. Don’t even try to argue about it—if you bring it up, she’ll turn into a brick wall. But she will quietly sigh in relief when you’ve safely fallen asleep after a long day, knowing that you’re not as reckless as she was.
When she’s drunk, Sevika gets unexpectedly affectionate. She’ll still be tough as nails, but if you catch her after a night of drinking, you’ll find her whispering sweetly in your ear about how much she appreciates you, and how she’s glad you don’t make her feel like a monster. It’s rare, but those little moments hit hard. Don’t mention it the next morning though, or you’ll get a sarcastic “Shut up.”
You don’t need to worry about her “losing her edge.” Sevika loves you, but you’ll never see her weak. She’ll take care of everything—running the show, leading the crew, and doing it all while still making sure you’re fed, rested, and properly spoiled (even if she pretends she’s too busy for it). Her love language is protectiveness, and you’ll never have to ask for it—she’ll just give it, in her own way.
Sevika has a low tolerance for bullshit. You want to fight with her? She’ll shut you down quickly. But don’t think you can walk away from her without a solution. You might be forced to sit down and listen to her explain how everything can be fixed, while she subtly leans in to kiss you as if to remind you that, despite all the chaos, she’s always got your back.
Sevika loves when you tease her about her arm. She’ll act like it bothers her, giving you a gruff response, but deep down, she’s secretly pleased you noticed the little details about her. So you might catch her in the middle of a conversation trying to subtly flex her arm to see if you’re watching.
You ever tell Sevika you love her? Expect the longest silence. But if you’re close enough, you’ll hear her mumble “Yeah, me too,” under her breath, her hand gripping you just a little bit tighter than usual. Don’t expect a full confession anytime soon, but her actions speak louder than any words she’d say.
Sevika isn’t the best at “gentle” love-making, but she knows exactly what you need. She’ll have you begging for her touch, your back arched and your breath ragged, and when she’s done with you, she’ll act like it was just another night—but you know she won’t let you go easily after that.
Don’t let her drink too much, or you’ll find yourself with a Sevika that becomes surprisingly clingy, needing your constant attention. She’ll never admit it, but when she’s tipsy, she’s vulnerable, and the cold, hard exterior starts to melt just a little bit. Enjoy it while it lasts, because she’ll be back to her usual intimidating self by morning.
When she’s worried about you, Sevika might try to hide it by acting gruff and dismissive, but the tension in her shoulders says it all. She’ll never say it aloud, but if anyone even thinks of threatening you, they’re as good as dead.
Sevika may be the toughest person in the room, but when you’re the one she’s holding close, she’ll make you feel like the only person that matters. Don’t think she’ll say it outright, but you’ll feel it in the way her hand wraps around your waist, keeping you anchored to her in a world that’s constantly moving.
Sevika’s definition of “cuddling”: It’s not the soft, romantic kind. You’re in her lap, head resting on her chest, and she’s just grumbling about something—probably work—but she lets you stay there because she secretly loves the closeness. And even if she acts like she doesn’t, her fingers will trace circles on your back, and you can feel her warmth seeping into your skin.
In the dead of night, when she’s holding you close and you’re almost asleep, you’ll feel her hand tighten around you ever so slightly. She’ll breathe in, and though the words don’t come, the feeling is all there—she’d die for you, and she will die for you.
Sevika’s smiles aren’t easy to come by, but when you pull off something unexpected, like making her laugh at a sarcastic quip or doing something that touches her heart, she’ll crack the tiniest of smiles. And she’ll try to hide it, but you’ll catch it. When she smiles, it’s all you need to know you’re doing something right
You’re tough in your own way, and that drives Sevika wild. Whether it’s your physical strength or the way you handle things emotionally, she admires you deeply for not breaking under pressure. She’ll never admit it outright, but seeing you take charge in tough situations makes her think you’re even hotter than she already does.
If you’re ever in trouble, don’t expect her to be the type to coddle you. She’ll patch you up, maybe scold you a little for getting hurt, and then tell you to “get back out there” and finish the job. But if you really need comfort, she’ll stand guard over you like a wall and make sure no one gets close.
Good luck. Sevika doesn’t stop moving. Whether it’s upgrading her arm or keeping things under control in Zaun, there’s always something for her to do. But if you manage to corner her and drag her into a quiet space, she’ll let herself relax just enough to let you pamper her. (But only for a while—she’ll grumble the entire time.)
if she messes up, she’ll apologies in the best way she knows how. That usually means hours of intense physical affection, pushing you to the edge of your patience as she tries to make it up to you. In her mind, actions speak louder than words. (And she does know how to use that damn arm of hers to make things extra interesting.)
Don’t try to kiss Sevika when she’s angry—she’ll push you away. But the second she cools off, she’ll drag you close by your collar and kiss you like she hasn’t seen you in years, all pent-up frustration and heat. And you will need a minute to catch your breath when she’s done.
Sevika isn’t a patient woman in general, but she has an unexpected amount of patience when it comes to you. Whether it’s waiting for you to finish a project, allowing you to take your time with things, or handling your quirks, she’ll do it without complaint.
Sevika might not be the type to say it out loud, but she’s incredibly proud of you. Whether you accomplish something big or even just make it through a tough day, she’ll make sure to let you know you’ve done well. It’s usually in a low, gruff voice, but you’ll feel her pride all the same.
Although she hides it well, the thought of losing you terrifies Sevika. She’s seen a lot of loss in her life, and even though she tries to act tough, she’s scared of not being able to protect you. So, she keeps you close, watches over you, and does everything in her power to make sure you’re safe, even if she doesn’t always know how to express her fear.
NSFW part:
When Sevika wants you, she’ll take what she wants without hesitation. Her kisses are forceful, hungry, and demanding. She’ll shove you against a wall, press her body against yours, and kiss you until you can’t breathe. The kiss might be rough, but she loves the control it gives her and the way you melt into her touch, surrendering to the moment.
Sevika loves being on top, where she can control the pace, angle, and intensity. She’ll pin you down beneath her, leaning over you, taking you hard and fast, while her grip on your body tightens. She’s not afraid to get rough—she’ll hold your wrists down or press your body into the mattress.
She’ll whisper dark, degrading things in your ear, telling you how well you’re taking her, how much she owns you, or how good you are for her. She loves hearing you moan at her words, and she’ll push you even further, knowing exactly what turns you on. When she talks dirty, she’s not shy about it, She’ll talk down to you, telling you exactly how pathetic you are for her, but there’s always a hint of praise, too. When you do something she enjoys, she’ll whisper just how well you’re doing—whether it’s taking her or satisfying her desires—her praise is rough but addictive, making you crave more.
She’ll take you from behind, holding you in place while she takes what she wants. She’s not shy about her dominance and enjoys how submissive you become under her touch. She’ll pull your hair or grip your throat, enjoying how you yield to her every command.
She’s more than just dominating; she’s passionate and raw, needing to feel you as much as you need to feel her. There are moments when she’ll hold you close, burying her face in your neck as she comes down from her high, whispering apologies in her raspy voice for being too rough, even though she knows she could never be “too much” for you.
Sevika loves getting you both messy. She’ll have you both drenched in sweat, the sheets tangled around you, her fingers digging into your skin. The way she leaves you breathless and spent is exactly how she likes it—no rules, no holding back.
Sometimes, Sevika won’t care about your pleasure at all. It’s all about her satisfaction, and she expects you to follow her lead, giving her what she needs. It’s not that she doesn’t care about you, but when it comes to those selfish moments, she’s focused on how good it feels to take control of you—body and mind. Once she’s had her fill, she’ll relax a bit and turn her attention back to you, ready to reciprocate.
Sevika’s thrusts are slow and deliberate, each one timed to perfection. She’ll pull back just enough to make you ache before driving it back in, letting you feel every inch of it. She’s in no rush to finish—her focus is on making you feel every moment, stretching you out and pushing you to your limits. You’ll be begging her to go faster, but she loves making you work for it.
Sometimes, she’ll get you right about to cum, and just when you’re about to break, she’ll slow down, making you beg for release. Other times, she’ll thrust harder and faster, making sure you’re overwhelmed by the sheer force of it all.
Sevika’s strap-on is more than just a tool; it’s a way for her to make you feel completely filled, both physically and mentally. She’ll make sure you feel every inch, every thrust, making sure you know exactly how deep she can go. She’s not shy about letting you know that she owns you in these moments, her every action pushing you closer to the edge of your pleasure and submission.
For Sevika, the line between pain and pleasure is incredibly thin. She’ll mix in a little bit of light pain while using the strap-on, whether it’s slapping your ass or pinching your nipples, to make the pleasure even more intense. Every time she thrusts, you’ll feel a mix of sweet pleasure and sharp sting, and she’ll make sure you feel every bit of it. But don’t worry—when you need a break, she’ll ease off for just long enough to let you catch your breath before starting again.
Sevika isn’t just about the hard, fast fuck; she enjoys experimenting with sensation play. She’ll run her fingers over your body as she uses the strap-on, teasing you with light touches, soft brushes, or even ice cubes, to build the tension. The strap-on will feel even more intense when your body is sensitized to every touch, and she’ll revel in how your body reacts to her every movement.
#arcane#arcane sevika#sevika#sevika arcane#sevika headcanon#sevika imagine#sevika x reader#sevika x y/n#sevika x you#sevika story#arcane x y/n#arcane x you#arcane x reader
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THE LEANOVER → OP81
Part 2 of 2. Read Part 1 here.
Pairing: Oscar Piastri x reader
Summary: You come home on uni break to find your brother’s best friend, Oscar, is visiting. You both fall back into old habits, but some things are not the same.
Tags: brother’s best friend, friends to lovers, slow burn, SMUT (18+), masturbation, Jack Doohan is from Melbourne in this one for logistical reasons, not proofread at all hah
A/N: finally!!! The end of The Leanover!!!! Sorry for the extended deadline, this one turned out chunkier than I expected and honestly I don’t know if I’m quite satisfied with it but it is what it is. Anyway, enjoy!
Oscar is a handsome boy. This is a fact you find to be so uncontroversial it may as well be accepted as a universal truth. There has never been a time where girls did not whisper amongst themselves when he would enter a room, where the mothers of his friends would not rave with great emphasis to his about how strong and handsome he’d become, where his presence at a function did not brighten up the place, because not only is he handsome, he is beautiful. Beautiful people are magnetic, you think; their beauty lies in their nature, their fundamental quality of supernatural grace, a gift bestowed by the forces that be towards the lucky few.
You recall his last year of high school. You were sixteen, still growing into your body and learning how to use a felt-tip eyeliner pen. Teenagers are fascistic about social hierarchy; they are greatly cognisant of their standings in the high school pecking order, intensely anal about preserving the rigidity of the structure, and thus you had long accepted your status as the forgotten sibling. Oscar and your brother were athletes, students with clout attached to their names; you were awkward, unaware of your own intensity, intimidating to a fault, but more than happy to lay low. Two individuals of such different standings in the social order should never interact—but for the first (and only) time you were now going to the same house parties and birthday bashes, and here was the greatest display of Oscar’s beauty. You can never forget that image: the figure of him standing on the other side of the room, so broad-shouldered and trim, freckles of sun damage littered over his skin all the way down his neck like constellations, his head turned away from you to reveal his chiselled jaw as he speaks to someone while holding a can of Reschs. And suddenly his eyes would meet yours, catching you in the act, and he’d give you a gentle smile.
You were always so grateful for this. So grateful he would look your way and beam so brightly, a glimpse of his inner calmness, his quiet gentle bliss. You were never under the impression you were the only one to be so blessed by his grace; you were just happy to be around him. Sometimes when he would come over, sprawl himself over your couch or lay on the floor, pissing himself laughing at your brother’s antics into the late hours of the night, you’d ask yourself whether you should feel guilty for being the only witness to this part of his life. This secret of his: that Oscar is so much more beautiful than most people will ever know. Not his fans, not his colleagues, not the majority of the world. This is between you and him.
And now you have him all to yourself. A bit greedy, isn’t it? The past week you’ve spent together has been nothing short of lovely. You find out that he’s strangely disciplined. Oscar’s a dutiful housemate, doing the chores you even forget about without the need to be prompted, unlike most guys his age. He likes to hum to himself when he’s got the vacuum going and he thinks you can’t hear him butcher the tune of “Uptown Girl” by Billy Joel. He’s a good cook who prefers careful measurement over eyeballing. He doesn’t read books like you do, but he’s happy to lie on the couch all day and watch a show with you on the telly. And he’s surprisingly touchy—he seems most pleased when you’re both on the couch, your legs crossed and stretched out, resting on top of his, his hand on your foot, thumb rubbing circles into your skin. You don’t speak during these moments. Nothing needs to be said; things just sort themselves out.
At some point in the afternoon you get tired, yawning to yourself, and without even needing to look at you Oscar reaches over, tugs at your arm to tell you wordlessly to turn around. You oblige; your head against his chest, his fingers trail up your forearm to your shoulders and, eventually, the back of your neck, smoothing over the soft, fine hairs that reside there. You’re too tired to mind the goosebumps the feeling of his fingertips on your skin gives you, or the increasing thump-thump-thump of his heartbeat underneath you. You shift in his arms, folding your legs up in a way that makes the hem of your shorts ride up, exposing the curve of your thighs all the way up towards the swell of your—well… It would be so uncouth for him to look there.
It never occurs to either of you that the hardest part of the process is done. The feeling returns: the feeling that arises in you when he looked at you from across the room at those parties all those years ago. The feeling of knowing that person so incredibly well. Of sharing a secret together, and letting that secret grow bigger and bigger until it takes on a life of its own. Of sharing that life together. These things do just sort themselves out, but you would never know until you speak of it.
You are growing increasingly needy. There’s no other way to put it. You’re fucking dying. The heat of the dry, punishing Australian summer is starting to get to you, even with how skimpy your attire has gotten, and having him around twenty-four seven is starting to feel more like divine punishment than intervention. You were wrong all along: Oscar is not an angel, but a demon sent to terrorise you all your life until you give in and the Devil can steal your soul for all of eternity.
He works out every other day. That’s at least three days where he’ll disappear into another room in the afternoon for hours, slips right out just to slip into the bathroom, and then waltz back into the living room as if nothing has happened. But something has happened.
Oscar has a very basic wardrobe at home. He likes his soft, mild colours—dark greys and soft whites, beige tones, navy and olives… It’s very on brand for him, yes. And here he is again, today, emerging from the bathroom, a cloud of steam following him out the door as he runs a hand through his slightly damp hair. He’s wearing a crisp heather grey t-shirt, fresh from the pile of laundry you’d folded yesterday. The sleeves can barely withstand the size of his biceps; he’s just gotten new dumbbells in. And god, the smell of his skin, the musk of him mixed with the soft clean scent of soap still radiating off of him. It’s like crisp hot white bedsheets, fresh out the dryer, already crumpling under the weight of two lovers, bodies sticky from tangling into each other; like soft detergent left out in the garden, where the grass is freshly cut, and the warm sun hits your skin.
This is as close to a primal urge as it will ever get for you. The first few times you could just tell yourself to look away, but now the smell of him is unavoidable, overwhelms your senses, and lights your entire body on fire. You stick your nose into your book the entire time and pray he goes away. Oscar retreats into the kitchen and wonders if your book is really so good that you’d be that engrossed by it. He’ll have to start reading again soon.
“The worst thing a woman can do,” you say, hand in the air with great feeling, “is be cut down in her prime by a man.”
Three beers in and you’re starting up your great tirade already. Oscar watches with an amused smile as he sits on the grass, green Peroni bottle in hand. “I know it sounds so pathetic and untrue, but it is true,” you continue, pacing back and forth with a giggle. “It’s true! I’m so much better off now. No offence, Osc, you’re one of the good ones.”
“I’m very flattered.”
“You should be,” you nod.
He reaches over and grabs a fresh beer from the esky, flicks the cap off with the belt he’s taken off, and hands it to you. You thank him; “just trying to stay in your good graces, missy,” he chuckles.
You sigh, taking a swig of it as you look up to the sky. “Frankly, I’m glad that part of my life is over already,” you say. “I’m not happy to admit it, but for a long time, I had just thought of myself as undesirable. Invisible.”
Oscar furrows his eyebrows with great concern, an ocean tide of emotion threatening to wash over him. “Impossible.”
“Possible,” you nod, with a bitter smile that’s less regretful than accepting of your past. “You know. Surely you remember.”
Of course he does. He remembers every little thing, because they’re not little to him. He remembers it all, how he’d scare off sleazy, drunken boys from approaching you at parties. Even after he graduated, the threat remained: you mess with her, you mess with Oscar Piastri, the F1 big shot. Boys never looked your way because of that; he used to hold you by the end of the party, sitting on the porch of whatever house you’re at, you latching onto him in your drunken half-slumber, both of you silently wallowing in your desires. Drowning, suffocating in each other’s warmth. Then he’d stay over at your house and wait until your brother fell asleep to press his ear against the wall, listening to your muffled sobbing. You were always too eager to suffer alone, to make a martyr of yourself and accept the cards you had been dealt.
But you stand tall now, a soft smile on your face suggesting a great deal of growth. It’s what he’s always found so beautiful in you. Beauty, he thinks, lies in the spirit, an ability to have infinite love and bliss in the face of the frustrations of one’s life. You are a complete soul, whole in ways he may never be, capable of learning to love over and over again and of light-heartedness in the face of turmoil. He knows he cannot truly achieve this because you are his Achilles’ heal. He cannot bear to think of you off on your own without him, doing things with other slimy ratty boys, going places he may never know of. Having a life without him in it. Oscar frowns; had he been too selfish in denying you all your opportunities? You had graduated high school without losing your virginity, without ever being in a relationship, and he wasn’t sure your first kiss would even count as a kiss. He can’t imagine how much that must’ve crushed you—and he was away, far away on his stupid little racing circuits instead of being at home, comforting you, as he should’ve been.
You wave it all off, as if you could hear his thoughts. “Well, I’ve done all of it now anyway, and I’m happy to report that it’s not for me.”
He cocks up an eyebrow. “And what exactly is ‘it,’ Tiny?”
“The hookup thing,” you shrug.
Oscar’s chest feels like it could explode; cold flashes wash all over him. “Oh?”
You playfully shush him. “Don’t tell my family, okay?” you chuckle. “But, yes. I tried it. It was good, until it wasn’t. Very quickly I realised I’m kinda, like, spiritually forty. I need to stretch in the mornings and tuck in by eleven.”
“And kick-ons aren’t until at least one,” he tuts. “You’re always been a sleepy girl.”
“That is true,” you nod, taking another sip of your Peroni. “Anyway, it was worth it, at the very least just to get it all out of my system. I’m very comfortably single now.”
The sky is darker than it should be. The sun has already tucked itself away, and it’s not even evening time yet. “You know, it’s so cliché,” you continue. “That Sally Rooney quote, it’s just like that. I went to uni and got pretty. And all of a sudden men saw me—I mean, I was pretty much invisible before. Before in school, when you and my brother were still around, guys used to do this stupid, horrible thing where they wouldn’t speak to me, they’d just speak to you instead. Even when the topic was about me. Well, no one knows I grew up with Oscar Piastri when I’m at ANU. I’m just me, and I’ve got a nice haircut and a decent rack of tits. And they see me, they see me now and I realise now that they’re all just sort of stupid. I’m very sorry, Oscar, but boys are stupid.”
“No need to apologise,” he snickers softly. It makes you smile a little wider. “But surely they were not all so bad?”
“No, I really don’t know how to pick ‘em. They really were all that bad,” you chuckle, eyes creasing as your cheeks push up in laughter. “Think the best one might’ve been the guy I lost my virginity to.”
Oscar’s eyes widen. He hums, pretends to be normal about it. “Tell me more,” he says.
You nod and oblige. “It was early in the school year. I went on four dates with him,” you start. “He seemed right on paper. Double major, worked for a diplomat, spoke two languages and was well-travelled. Maybe a bit pedestrian in his taste in music and films, but it didn’t bother me so much. We talked okay. He knew what to do, how to be courteous, held doors open and shit—I didn’t know what the whole dating thing was meant to be like, and I was easily impressed. He took me back to his after the fourth date and we listened to his vinyls: corny 70s Greatest Hit compilations and his favourite Kanye albums.”
You take a break, pulling out a thing of lip balm and unscrewing the cap before squeezing it out. “He told me he used to take ballroom lessons for some weird high school thing he did, and he twirled me in his arms, and it made me feel so light and small and girlish that I felt like I was floating.” Your finger spreads the balm over your lips, the feeling cool and tingly on your skin. “He told me I was funny. He kissed me, and his stubble was so sharp and gritty against my skin that it gave me traction acne the day after. He held my hand the whole time. He was an awful kisser. Just kept jamming his tongue in. But it was sweet enough. No one’s first time is good, anyway.”
Oscar tries to swallows down the lump stuck in his throat. His fingers and toes are tingling, chest tight and contracting still. You take another swig. “I’ve had too many of these,” you say.
“You’ve had three, Tiny.”
“That’s more than enough for me,” you shrug, yawning as you set the bottle down on the wooden table outside in your garden. “I think I’d better fuck off to bed now. Sleep tight, Osc.”
He doesn’t sleep in your brother’s bed that night. No, he takes out the spare mattress again and drapes the spare velvet blanket over himself, because he could never forgive himself if he jerked off in his best friend’s bed to the thought of his best friend’s sister. No, there would be no good excuse for that, but tonight is one of those nights where a man simply cannot hold himself back anymore. The alcohol is still burning in his stomach; when Oscar shuts his eyes, all he can see is these elaborate images crafted by his mind’s eye of you, placed in all the scenarios you’d described to him, only replacing that dirty fucker was him, being so gentle and delicate and loving, just how you deserve it. It should have been him there instead to do it all right; it is true that losing one’s virginity is often an awkward affair, his own experience was no less lousy, but if anyone were to have a perfect instance of it it should be you. Oscar can see it all now, how he’d go about it. Holding onto your soft curves as he pushes himself in slowly, the little gasps that would escape your honey-sweet mouth, so warm and wet on his lips. He would die happy, he thinks to himself, as his hand roughly palms his length, hair dampening from sweat in the blistering summer night heat. Cicadas sing outside his window; he heaves wildly, chest rising and falling dramatically as his hand gets slicker with each stroke. He had no idea he could even leak that much.
Thank god you’re sound asleep. He grips tightly onto the soft blanket, balling it in his fist as his eyes shut again tightly, the guttural noise he lets out much louder than he intended. Then Oscar collapses; his limbs go slack, heart beating out of his chest still as he lets out a long, drawn-out sigh, hand now sticky with his spent. The mattress is damp with his sweat. If he wasn’t before, he’s royally fucked now.
Your parents called; they’ll be home on Christmas Eve, but only in the afternoon, and they’re picking your brother up as well. Which means the two of you have some shopping to do; the house should be looking festive in time for their arrival. Oscar pushes the shopping cart, following you deep into the maze that is Kmart. He helps you haul the Christmas tree box in and out of his car. And he watches as you pull its branches down, giving it shape before littering it with baubles and tinsel. And when it comes time to finish the tree, you look him with bright eyes. He smiled at you, takes the Angel Gabriel out of your hands and places it on top of the tree carefully. You put on your silly little Santa hats and poorly bake gingerbread men.
You never end up throwing the rager Oscar jokingly suggested, but you do hold a small get-together after running into some old schoolmates at the shops. So it turns out that a few girls you used to do drama class with are in town, and of course anyone Oscar invites is going to show up—he’s Oscar fucking Piastri—so here you are, with a decent turnout of people currently congregated in the back garden and the living room. You’re thankful enough of them showed up on such short notice, with Christmas Eve only a few days away, and you’re thankful everyone seems to have gotten more civil and mature since you’ve left school.
The doorbell rings more than once, and you peel yourself off of the couch to go answer it, Balter tinnie in hand now that you’re all out of Peronis. Your eyes widen once you fling the door open, revealing a familiar face, standing with a smile on his face and a couple guys behind him.
“Surprise,” Jack chuckles.
“Doohan in the flesh,” you quip with a smile. “You cheeky boy. Since when were you in town?”
“Since yesterday,” he shrugs, and the guys behind him file past you into the house at the sight of some of their mates. “Heard you were throwing a thing with Big Shot Oscar. Hope you don’t mind that I’m crashing—I come bearing gifts.”
You shake your head. “Of course not, no, I’m glad to see you,” you say, though you sigh at the sight of the twelve-pack he’s got in his hands. “Mate, Strong Zero? It’s not that kind of party.”
“Some of us can handle our liquor,” Jack laughs, putting the pack in your arms before smoothing his hair back. “Don’t spoil the fun for the rest of us.”
You roll your eyes, turning your back to him as you walk down the hallway back to the kitchen. “Congratulations, by the way,” I say. “I’m glad to see two of our finest graduates succeeding.”
“I can tell. You’re beaming, clearly,” he jokes, following you in. “It was never in doubt for Oscar, anyway, so I think I deserve a bigger congratulations for making it, no?”
You peel apart the drink packaging, the tins of drink coming loose on the kitchen counter. “Let me get this straight: you want me to be more proud of you for being a worse driver than Oscar?”
“That’s not what I said.”
“I’m just repeating your words, Jack-Jack.”
“Never said I was a worse driver,” he snickers, shaking his head as he folds his arms over his chest. “You snuck that in yourself. But I always knew you were biased, so I won’t take offence to that, Tiny.”
You turn over your shoulder, glaring at him. Dramatically, he throws his hands up in a display of surrender, but your conversation is cut short.
“Well, well, well,” Oscar grins, strolling into the kitchen and approaching Jack with wide arms. “Fancy seeing you here, F1 driver.”
“Fancy seeing you here, F1 driver,” Doohan beams, dapping Oscar up before pulling him into a hug. “How you been, mate, good?”
“Nah, yeah,” Oscar chuckles, glancing back to you with a smile. “It’s been a splendid break for me. You been good? Didn’t realise you were back.”
“Yeah, just landed yesterday,” Jack nods, a hand on the back of his neck. “Heard you two were doing a thing, thought I’d be jet lagged out of my mind but nah. Wouldn’t miss this.”
You notice Jack’s a little taller than Oscar, who’s having to tilt his head up a little. “Appreciate you showing up, mate,” the older one says. “I’m gonna go catch up with some of your mates, but stick around, yeah?”
“Absolutely, man,” the younger one says with a smile. “Good seeing you again.”
Then Oscar leaves, fingers gliding over the skin of your cheek in passing, a gentle action of tenderness, as if to say goodbye wordlessly. Doohan wiggles his eyebrows. “What the fuck was that?”
“What was what?” you exclaim, eyes avoiding his gaze as you snatch a Strong Zero for yourself.
“That,” he presses on, finger extended now to point to where Oscar had put his hand on your cheek. “The little hand-cheek-look thing. The fuck? Do you have something to tell me, pal?”
You sigh, shaking your head. “Please mate, just be normal—”
“Don’t gaslight me,” Jack says, as stern as he can be.
“He’s been living in my home!” you gasp. “Of course we’re a little close!”
“Living in your home—”
“Not by choice,” you roll your eyes. “Just—my family’s all out of town right now. He’s kind of all I have at the moment.”
“Agh!” Jack groans, smacking himself on the forehead. “Genius move. Fuck, I should’ve locked you two in a room myself years ago—”
You put the tin back onto the counter and slowly turn to face him. “Excuse me?”
He frowns. “Oh, man,” he pouts. “You don’t mean to tell me you two are still doing the thing?”
“What thing?” you furrow your eyebrows.
“You know, the thing,” he says, eyes innocent and wide as if it is the most obvious thing in the world. “The weird game you two play. I thought you guys would have gotten over it already.”
Your breath hitches in your chest, making you stammer and go red in the face as your confusion worsens. Jack notices this. “What, you really don’t know?”
“No, Jack, I do not,” you manage to breathe out. “Please, enlighten me.”
He shakes his head, lets out a strange chuckle as he leans back against the wall, having taken a tinnie off the counter. “This would be funny if it weren’t so tragic,” he starts, grimacing. “Oscar used to push guys on the soccer team around for talking about you. He’d go silent whenever you were around and get clammy in the hands. He got weird whenever he’d even hear your name. And I’m sure I don’t have to list out your incriminating actions.”
Needless to say you’re taken aback by this. Eyes wide and blank, you look at him with shock as your mind oscillates between delight and horror, hand resting on your chest as if your heart needs the help. Jack sighs, and after a moment of tense silence he speaks again. “I take it that’s enough proof for you.”
“Why didn’t you say?”
“We thought you knew,” he shrugs. “And it wouldn’t have been my place to meddle, and also, it was kind of amusing to watch.”
You scoff bitterly. “Amusing.”
“Well, not so much now,” Doohan nods.
Silence fills the kitchen again, the chatter outside quiet against the deafening quietness inside. “You do like him, don’t you?” he asks earnestly.
You don’t answer, but all he has to do is look at your solemn face and see the emotions threatening to spill out of you. He comes closer, puts a comforting hand on your shoulder. “Hey. Just take your time, mate.”
You nod, but you hear Oscar’s distinct timbre in the distance, speaking rapidly to someone. You turn your head and see him standing in the living room near the couch, and then—like magnets—he seems to feel your eyes raking over his figure, and meets your gaze as his head turns a little. Suddenly you’re sixteen again. He’s smiling at you like he used to, so fondly and sweetly, all the way from another room. Everything has changed but this feeling is the same. Oscar nods his head gently, as if to tell you ‘I’m doing okay over here, and I hope you are too,’ and you realise he’s dropped out of his conversation now just to look at you. He has always done this.
The hard part is over, but you didn’t know until it was spoken of.
You sweep the crushed cans off the table and into the garbage bag, back starting to hurt from all the cleanup you’ve had to do. Thank the lord they all left early; you haven’t been able to enjoy yourself fully since that talk with Doohan. Since then his words have just been eating away at you the whole night, but you can speak to Oscar just fine, you think. You’re trying your best, at least.
“Jesus, have the lights always been this bright?” he says, and by the way he’s stumbling onto the couch and slurring his words a little, he’s probably more tipsy than he’d like to admit.
You shake your head, turning around to face him. The cans inside the bag you’re holding clank against one another. “Fun night?”
“Not particularly,” he says, eyes shutting as he throws an arm over his face, lying down flat on the couch. “Just, those fucking Strong Zeroes, man.”
“I told Doohan he shouldn’t have!”
“He really shouldn’t have.” Oscar groans, eyes shutting tighter as he tries to push his face into the couch, and you chuckle before going back to cleaning up, moving towards the pile of cans on the kitchen island.
“Don’t leave,” you hear him say behind you.
You turn around, eyebrows furrowing in confusion. “What?” you say. “I’m not. I’m just going into the kitch—”
“No,” he whines quietly, muffled by the fabric of the couch. “That’s too far. Stay.”
You stand still, still holding the bag in your hand, visibly confused.
“We should always be in the same room,” he continues. “I don’t want to be away from you.”
You flush at his words. You’re not sure if he quite grasps the implications of what he’s saying, but you chalk it all up to his current state—surely he’s just a clingy drunk. You put the garbage bag down against the wall, approaching the couch as he pulls his legs back to make room for you.
You sit down. “Are you feeling alright, Osc?”
“No,” he replies, too quickly for your liking. Oscar shuffles back onto his back, eyes still shut as his tone is reduced to grumbling. “I had this really awful thought the other day that we’re so far apart. I’m off doing my races and now you’re off at uni doing whatever.”
You cock your head to the side, clearly about to protest, but he starts up again. “I just want to know what you’re doing all the time,” he admits. “And how you’re feeling. I miss you all the time, and I wanna know you’re okay.”
“Oscar,” you frown, putting a hand on his arm tenderly. “If you want to stay in touch more, of course we can—”
“No,” he shakes his head. “I don’t want to stay in touch. I wanna be with you.”
You pull your arm back. He winces, missing your touch. “Tiny, this must sound so crazy.”
“No,” you assure him, though you’re struggling to comprehend his words. “I just don’t know what you me—”
“I think I’m in love with you.”
Your blood runs cold even as your stomach shatters and explodes into a million butterflies that feel hot like lava inside of your body. “I know it must sound so crazy,” Oscar chuckles bitterly. “I know it must be so crazy…”
“No,” you shake your head. “I don’t think it’s crazy. I just, I wonder how you’ll feel in the morning.”
“It’s not the alcohol.”
He opens his eyes only to look at you, pupils darting around slowly to find you, the only soothing sight when the lights are still killing him. Oscar smiles a little at your familiar face. “I spoke to Doohan,” he explains.
“Ah,” you mumble, flushing. Of course he did.
He pauses a bit, tries to find the courage to speak again. He finds it in how your eyes seem to shine a little brighter where you’re sitting, mesmerised by how beautiful you are tonight. “He’s right, you know. I feel a bit silly, or stupid rather, like I don’t know how to explain myself.”
“Well,” you chuckle timidly, looking down at your hands. “I would have some explaining to do myself, too.”
Oscar smiles to himself. He takes a moment to catch his breath; he didn’t even realise he’d been holding it in this whole time. “You don’t know how happy it makes me to hear that.”
At his words, you look up to meet his eyes again, to see how he’s smiling now, and it makes your chest expand with warmth, heart pumping fast. “I’ll feel the same in the morning,” he says, sitting up clumsily now just to look at your face better. He doesn’t want to look away ever again. “I promise you that. I’ve felt this way since forever—I just didn’t know the word for it yet.”
Your eyes widen just a little more at his words; you don’t recognise the inexplicable feeling that’s captured your body, but you think this is what he means. The thing he didn’t know the word for. But you know the word for it now.
“I think I love you too,” you say.
Oscar lets out a quiet noise of relief. He finds your hand in your lap, takes it in his, and just holds it. You look at each other for a long while, taking in the details of one another’s faces. “You don’t look a day over seven,” you chuckle, and it makes him grin softly.
“That’s alright. Did you feel then how you feel about me now?” he asks.
“I think you sealed the deal when you helped me get up on my feet after falling off the slide,” you quip with a smile, and he squeezes your hand a little approvingly.
“You remember that.”
“The little things aren’t little to me, either,” you say, and his heart soars at your words. Oscar can’t resist it anymore; he tugs on your hand a little and pulls you into his arms, hands latching onto your waist as he holds you tightly. You fall into each other like magnets. It just feels right, like it’s the most natural thing in the world, but nothing in this world is truly given this way. You had been working for it your entire life, but you’re only knowing this now.
His lips hover over your cheek, and it makes you shiver, but it shouldn’t be like this. “I don’t want our first kiss to be when you’re drunk,” you tell him, pulling away from his flushed face. “It’s… You don’t know how long I’ve wanted this. It just has to be right.”
Oscar swallows dryly, but he nods. “You’re right,” he says, with a gentle smile that tells you he’s being sincere. “You’re right. Not like this.”
He pulls you in again, holding you even tighter this time. You feel his heart beating out of his chest against yours, his warm breath against your skin, the warm his arms keep contracting as if he’s afraid to let you go. A warm waft of air filters through the window, left ajar, and swirls around the two of you, bodies now entangled. Neither of you can find a reason to leave, so you don’t. You never end up cleaning the kitchen that night.
The sun’s starting to filter through your blinds now, and you know you have no excuse to stay in bed anymore, but you don’t have the heart to wake him up. Your brother’s bedroom is probably collecting dust already; ever since that night, Oscar’s been sleeping in your bed now, and you both sleep so much better with a cuddle buddy by your side. He likes to be big spoon, but he’s happy to hold you face to face as well, duh! Why would he upset with getting to see your face, eyes shut so peacefully in slumber? He likes to wake up before you because of this, just so he can catch a glimpse of you so soft and pliable in his arms, comfortably happily asleep, but today you’re the one who wakes up first, stirred awake by the birds chirping outside your window.
You try to slip out of his grasp, but he just tightens his arms around you, furrowing his eyebrows in his sleep. You try again and he does it again, this time with a grumbling noise that makes you chuckle.
“Oscar,” you smile, press a gentle kiss onto his forehead. “They come home today.”
“So?” he grumbles back, eyes still shut as he pulls you in, tucking your head under his chin. “What’s it got to do with us?”
“We’ve got to make them brekky, babe,” you chuckle. You press a kiss to his neck now, before deciding you can’t really resist littering them all over his skin. “They’ll be starving by the time they get here.”
Oscar makes a strange, hushed noise. “Well, doing that certainly won’t get me out of bed.”
You’re confused, but then you realise something’s been pressing up against your thigh, worsened by how he keeps pulling you back into his arms. “Oh my god, Osc,” you yelp. “Just from a few kisses?”
“And maybe a very good dream,” he mumbles back. If he were awake, he’d surely be laughing, pleased with himself.
“You dirty, dirty pervert,” you snicker, but you’re tutting at him in a way that sends a tingle down his spine, and your fingers inching down the trail on his stomach is making him shiver. “You’re shameless.”
“Yeah, but something tells me you like it,” he says, but he can barely finish the sentence before you tug at the waistband of his sweatpants, shimmying them down. His length springs free; your eyes beam a little too brightly at the sight of it, making him laugh.
“Someone’s eager.”
“Yeah, well, I’ve been dreaming about riding you into the bed for actual years,” you chuckle, long fingers wrapping around him. “You look delicious in the morning, you know that? All sleepy and dishevelled. It’s very sexy, Osc.”
“Ah?” he says, a moan disguised as a word. Your hand starts to move and he can barely hold himself back. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
Your mouth is hovering over his cock now, warm breath making him shiver before your tongue makes contact with his tip, swirling all around the head in a way that makes his eyes roll back. “Holy shit,” you hear him mutter to himself, and you smile as you drag your tongue all over the length of him.
“Babe, I love the teasing,” he breathes out. “But I don’t think I can quite take it this morning.”
You hum to yourself, biting back a cheeky smile as a thought pops up in your head. “You know, you’re right,” you say. “We’re running on a tight schedule. And we could use something that saves time, so… if you’re getting head, you could give it too, no?”
Oscar’s face lights up at your words. “You wanna sit on my face? Is that what you’re saying?”
“I mean, if you’re offering.”
“Fuckin’ hell, any day of the week, missy.”
With that, he puts his hands on your head and pulls you up for a kiss that deepens into a little more. His lips are soft, mouth hot and wet; you feel yourself dampen a little against the cotton of your panties, something he feels too as his hands travel all the way down to your ass, fingers reaching past the fabric of your shorts inside to find the wet patch growing at your cunt. Your fingers hook into the waistband of both layers, tugging them off eagerly as he steadies his hands on your hips again. You turn around, and now Oscar’s got your pussy hovering right over his face. He think he’s salivating at the sight of it. Is that too crude? Jesus christ, it’s just so much fucking better than he could have ever imagined, waking up with you by his side, having the girl of all of his dreams with him now, eating your pussy first thing in the morning.
“You’re not so tiny anymore, hey? You’re a big girl now.”
You flush at his words. “Just get to it, Piastri.”
He needs no further encouragement, hands on your hips pulling you down to his face, tongue flicking a long stripe all the way down your cunt. You cry out at the sudden contact, and you realise very soon that he is very good at what he is doing, soft wet tongue sliding between your folds carefully, lips wrapping gently around your sensitive clit, hands gripping onto the meat of your ass, an action that signifies a clinginess you’d never know from how soft-spoken he is. He eats you out like a hungry man, lapping up the wetness that soaked your panties before eagerly. When you wrap your lips around his cock, taking all of him in until he hits the back of your throat, it makes him groan against your pussy, and it feels so strangely good that you keep throating him just like that every once in a while, just to feel him shift underneath you and thrust into your mouth a little. He wants to be gentle with you so badly, and he is, but he just can’t resist it when you’re doing that.
“Fuck, babe,” Oscar gasps out, pulling away as his fingers continue to rub at your clit. “If you keep doing that thing, I won’t last very long.”
You can tell by his tone he’s slightly embarrassed about taking such little time to get there. “We’ll get there together, I promise,” you say. “Just—ah!—keep using your fingers.”
He smiles, happy to oblige. This time he dips a finger inside you, tongue now swirling around your clit as his finger curls, finding that cushiony spot inside you that makes your back arch a little. There it is. He slips another finger in, tongue flicking fast against you, fingers pumping at a steady pace as you suck his cock sloppily, drool pooling at the base, fingers still wrapped around his length, lazily moving up and down. It’s all too much for the both of you, both moaning and whimpering against one another as your bodies start to get more and more sensitive, responding to each motion with a little more volume. Your back arches, his hips thrust; you know you’re both getting to that climax.
“Babe, fuck—”
“I know,” you gasp, a long mewl drawing out of you as his fingers, soaked in your slick now, keep thrusting in and out of you. “I’m—hah—almost there, too.”
He nods his head eagerly and latches his wet mouth back onto you, eating you out desperately as his hips start to move on their own, filling your mouth and muffling your increasing cries of pleasure as your eyes shut and roll back.
“I can’t take it,” he moans loudly. “Babe, I—oh my god!”
Just as Oscar starts to flood your mouth, you collapse onto him as your orgasm washes over you, leaving you breathless, body slack and limp. “Jesus,” you heave out, flipping onto your back off of him, swallowing all of his load down your throat. The sight of it makes him whimper. You take a good look at him; he’s got your slick all over his face, glistening from his lips down to his chin.
“Christ, I made a mess of you,” you chuckle, embarrassed, but he seems proud of himself.
“A souvenir, yeah?” He jokes, and you push his chest, rolling your eyes, but he pulls you into his arms. “God, that was fuckin’ amazing. You’re fuckin’ amazing.”
You pull the duvet back up over the both of you as you lie down once again, resting your head on his chest now as you look up at him with a smile. You wipe at his mouth with your hand. “There.”
“Aw,” he frowns playfully. “I quite liked it.”
“You fuckin’ pervert,” you say, going to push his chest again but he catches your arm with his hand.
“Don’t get feisty,” Oscar chuckles, shaking his head before pecking you on the forehead. “Let’s just lay here for a bit. And you know, I’ve been thinking.”
Your finger traces shapes on the freckled skin of his bare chest. “About what?”
“About you, coming to see me,” he says. “You know… I was thinking, maybe you could schedule your classes with me in my mind? You know, money’s not an issue. Transport, accommodation, passes, I can take care of all of that. I just need to know you can see me. Not for every race, obviously. But some of them. It’d mean so much to me, Tiny.”
You look up at him now, smiling. “Of course I can,” you nod gently. “It’d mean everything to me too, Osc.”
His face blooms into a smile, eyes raking over the details of your face, savouring it as if he hasn’t a million times before. “Then it’s done,” he says, bringing your hand up to kiss it. “You can’t escape me now.”
“Like I’d ever want to,” you roll your eyes.
Before Oscar can counter with a snarky remark, the door flies open.
“Piastri—seriously? My fucking sister?”
That’s the end! Thoughts? Comments? Suggestions? Leave em all in my askbox, and again, thank you so much for reading!
#oscar piastri fanfic#oscar piastri x you#oscar piastri imagine#oscar piastri x reader#f1 x reader#f1 imagine#f1 x you#f1 fanfic
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irritable. ~ s.r. x fem reader.
MDNI 18+ ONLY
- told from spencer’s pov
prompt: Spencer accidentally sees y/n secret nsfw twt account and is struggling dealing with working along side her now.
warnings: angry Spence, nsfwtwt, mentions of sex, sex toys, perv! Spencer if you squint your eyes, age gap, lmk if im missing anything :)
a/n: BLURB! not a v long story. my first Spencer fic AND my first time writing smut. NOW reader and Spencer don’t hookup in this but it’s talked about quite a bit so proceed with caution loves. gimme feed back pls!!!! Lmk if you’d want a pt 2!!!
“i can't fucking do this, y/n. We have a lot of work left to do on this case.” I say getting out of my seat and walking towards the office door. It’s just too much right now. We’ve gotten nowhere close to finding this god awful unsub. Then here is y/n smelling like cocoanut and vanilla. Looking at me… no searching my eyes for answers I don’t have. And her hair? God. It’s down. Unlike most days where she wears it pulled back.
“Spencer! What the fuck? You told me if i needed to confied or talk to someone to go to you? If thats no longer okay then just tell me. You don’t have to talk to me like this.” She says getting out of their chair and stepping in my path to the door.
Shes right. I am being a complete an total ass right now. It’s not her fault. When she started last year I did tell her to come to me and she has taken me up on that offer lots of times and I've never minded it. I don't mind it. At Least I didn’t before… I look down defeated and sigh before looking at her. “You’re right. I apologize. Please, excuse me.” I take a step to the door.
“Reid…” She grabbed my arm looking up at me. “Please. What’s going on?”
I jerked off and came multiple times to your secret twitter account, y/n. I have your body engraved into my brain. I know exactly what i’d have to do, where to touch, how to touch, where to lick and suck now from watching the videos of you playing with yourself. I cant look at you let alone work with you, without wanting to take you into an empty office and showing you all the many things about your perfect fucking body I have learned and memorize. God even now during this stressful case all I can think of is fucking you so hard over this table that you cant remember what you came in here to ask for in the first place. But I can’t say that.
“I’m… fine. Okay? Many daily things in our lives especially in this field can cause irritability, for example: we’ve been on this case for 48 hours, we’ve gotten nowhere close to a profile, no idea how to stop this unsub, exactly how many victims he has so far, which means there's gonna be more innocent people dying. So, if I'm irritable that may be the reason. Now if you excuse me i need to go look the files we found on Amy Cassandra and Olivia Hidmen.” And with that, she let me go and I made my way out.
—------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
After a long week we are finally back home. I avoided y/n as much as I could which is the only way to deal with this until I can figure out how to move on. Then of course… once we get home going out to “split” the teams favorite local bar was suggested. We all agreed to meet up in an hour, giving ourselves time to go home and get ready.
I was sitting at our usual table with Derek and Emily when y/n walked in talking with Hotch. Fuck. me. She was wearing a short, silk, black dress that was hugging her body perfectly. Her hair was down framing her face perfectly and she was wearing her glasses. Last time i saw her glasses, they were on her bed side table in the background of the video she posted, showing off her new toys a sex toy company sent her. My thoughts are interrupted by her looking at me. I can't. I turn to Emily and Derek asking to be excused before walking past y/n and out the bars glass doors.
She’s your coworker, spencer. Not only is she a coworker, shes damn near 10 years younger than you, sees you as a mentor, and trusts you. What the fuck have I done.
“Reid!” i hear yelled from behind me.
No no no no… I turn to see her jogging towards me.
“y/n please go back inside.”
“No.”
“y/n…”
“Spencer, please stop.”
“No. y/n. You. please stop. Leave me alone and go back inside with the others…” I turn to walk away. After a few paces I hear:
“I saw.”
I pause in my tracks. Looking down at my feet. I’m fucked. I take a deep breath before turning and walking back to her. “You saw what?” I say looking down at her. My voice coming out deeper than intended.
“You liking and unliking one of my post on twitter.” She says softly and almost unsure.
I dont break eye contact. I’m frozen. What am i suppose to say to that?
“Spencer, please don’t tell anyone. I’m-”
I shake my head. “I wasn’t planning on talking to anyone about this.”
“Oh… okay…” A few more moments of silence. “I’m really really fucking sorry you saw that, no one i know in person was ever meant to see it. I just do it for fun and…”
‘I cant be having this conversation right now.’ i think to myself as she continues to ramble. “y/n. Stop.”
“... i know youre probably mortified…” she continues.
“Stop.”
“... I just dont wanna lose you-”
“y/n!’ I say louder than intended as i grab her shoulders trying to get her to listen to me. Shes staring wide eyed at me, silent. I losen my grip and lead her to a near by empty stairwell. I let her go and brush her hair off her shoulders and try to straighten the straps of her dress that was underneath my hands.
“Now…” i start calmly. I see her relax more and start looking at me with curiosity. “y/n, you have no reason to be apologoizing to me. You-” i stop myself to think before i let more rambling come out of my mouth. “I should be the one apologizing to you.” I say taking a step back attempting to give her some space.
“For what?” She asked genuinely.
“For invading your privacy. I saw your account and I was intrigued then after a few moments of analizing i realized it was you. I shouldve clicked away immediately but I didn’t, I kept scrolling and looking and I’m so sorry, y/n. You’re an amazing person, agent, and friend and I’m someone you trusted and i-”
“Did you like them?” she asked bluntly looking up at me.
Spencer. Stop. you cannot entertain this.
“Yes.” I answered searching her eyes for any signs of regret or disgust.
None to be found.
She takes a step closer to me making our hight difference extremely noticeable. “Spencer,” she started softly. The sound of my name on her lips going straight to my cock. “Did you touch yourself to me?”
“I did.”
She searches my face almost the same way i did hers moments ago before she yanks me into her by my tie our lips meeting and her pulling away before I could even register what happened. I look at her as if asking if she's sure she wants this before we quickly grab each other crashing our lips together again. Our bodies moving together and our mouths hungry.
“Fuck, I need you closer.” I moan into our kiss before softly pushing her against the wall of the stairwell. My hands roaming her body until they find their way to her beautiful thighs. I yank one of her legs up by her knee taking the opportunity to get my body closer to her. I can feel her hot core against my aching cock. My hands now resting on her ass and I leave kisses along her neck.
“Fuck, I’ve wanted you to touch me like this for so long, Spencer.” She moans softly into my hair.
“Is that so?” I ask, looking up at her as I slowly drop down to my knees.
“Oh my god.” She whispers as she realizes my intentions for getting down here.
‘She’s definitely gonna believe in a god when i'm done with her.’ I think to myself as I start leaving kisses along her thighs.
“Y/n??”
We jump at Penelope’s voice we hear from around the corner. FUCK.
I immediately get back up and look at her attempting to straighten her dress and hair up. “We’re just having a conversation. Okay?” I whisper to her searching her eyes trying to keep her calm
“Okay.” She whispers back.
I nod as I take a seat on the steps crossing my arms over my knees in an attempt to hide my boner from Penelope.
“Oh my god! There you two are!” Penelope said relieved once she saw us. “Is everything okay with my two favorite nerds?”
“Yeah, just kinda debriefing the past week. It was a lot for me.” Y/n spoke up.
“Awwww okay pumpkin. If you need to take time to yourself it’s okay, everyone would understand.” She said as she pulled y/n into a hug.
“Yeah that’s probably what i'm gonna do. I need to decompress.” Y/n says in response, hugging our friend back.
“Okay baby cakes.” Garcia responded by pulling away. “What about you, my handsome wonder boy? You okay?”
“Yeah i'm good. Just got a bit overwhelmed. I’ll probably head home as well.” I say in response looking up at her from my seat on the stairs.
“Okay then my loves. I’ll go let them know.” She says as she starts to back up. “Reid, be a gentleman and make sure our sweet y/n gets home safe.” She turns and sends a winks to y/n before turning and making her way back to the bar.
“You um… maybe wanna come over and talk about everything?” I ask looking back to the beautiful woman I had in my arms moments ago.
“I would like that.”
#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid#criminal minds#spencer smut#spencer reid x reader smut#age g@p#twitter
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My Own Galatea- Crybaby x Top Male Reader
cw; (C/n) is Code name, manipulation, abuse, unethical science, dehumanization, Crybaby is @yanderefarm's character
You were probably too young to be involved in such an experiment, not even proper college age nor finished with your classes. But, you were very advanced in your studies, you were still top of your classes despite moving up several grades when you were younger, and they were getting desperate. You remember sitting in the meeting, this company had really only planned to discuss simple matters as a way of showing you how you were expected to interact once you finished school and they actually hired you. They got caught up in more urgent matters and forgot you bore witness to their panic and desperation until you raised a hand to silence the room and flatly announced.
"I have the darling gene... I could probably further his infection. He'd listen to me, I promise" They weren't happy about it, but they were truly desperate, so you were hired.
You first met him in the facility's basement, he was in a large glass room, a small hole cut into the bullet-proof glass to keep you safe when talking with him. You had several psychology classes and so you felt confident in your scheme to make him obedient.
"Hello" You spoke softly and he turned to you, clearly upset, "It's nice to meet you. Do you have a name?"
He glared at you for a bit before walking towards the hole in the glass and quietly grumbling, "I do... A real one..."
You smiled at him, he was only a year or two younger than you, but you would have to treat him more like a child until he knew you were safe. You approached him, ensuring you looked as confident as you felt, you weren't scared of him and he had no need to fear you yet.
"Give me your name, then. We can't be friends unless you tell me at least that much" Your words were laced with honey, he eyed your sweet smile with suspicion and you watched his eyes shift. He was coming around to the idea.
"Elias... I think... no, I am right... I am named Elias..." Even just at the confusion of his name, his eyes were round and damp. You held back the tug of a grin to give him a gentle smile instead.
"You can call me (Y/n). Elias is a beautiful name. It suits you" He looked at you with awe now, like it was the first compliment he'd ever heard, "You know, the people here call me (C/n), isn't that a funny name? Do they call you something like that?"
"Yes. Crybaby... I don't like it" He'd looked so adorable, crouched on the other side of the glass, confessing his thoughts like deep secrets, and watching you with those wet eyes.
You had been completely correct in your assumption that you could further his infection, when you next saw him, his irises were clear heart shapes and he hopped up to greet you at the glass.
"Good morning, Elias~ You seem energetic" You mused as he fidgeted a bit and nodded. "I'd like to play a game today, if you're up for it"
"A game?" He was clearly wary, surely experiments had been done to him in the form of 'games' previously, but he had to trust you.
"It's like simon says. Do you know that game?" he shook his head slowly, "Well, I'm going to tell you to do things, but I only want you to listen when I call you Crybaby, Ok?"
"Why?" He whined
"Because, It'll be fun. Friends play games all the time and we're friends now! We'll start easy; Crybaby, sit down," He sat with little hesitancy, "Very good. Stand up, Crybaby," He stood, "Elias, please come closer"
He walked toward you and you made quite a show of disappointment, causing him to scramble back into place and apologize, already welling up with tears.
"No, no, it's ok. You forgot the rules. Like I said, we're starting easy so it's not a big issue. Crybaby, come here" He hesitated before scrambling to the glass window, tears streaming down his face already.
The games continued each day, once he was good at listening as crybaby, you started referring to Crybaby and Elias as different people, even giving them rules.
"Crybaby doesn't know my name, you only know me as (C/n), right? You pet his head, watching him nod along to your words. "Who am I?"
"(Y)- no... (C/n)..."
"Good boy, you're really learning. I'm sure Elias would be proud of you as well, Crybaby"
You also had begun entering his cell, he adored when you did and would cling to you until you demanded he stop. With becoming so close to him, you also had to begin enforcing all of your rules more strictly.
"(Y/n) I don't kno-" He crumpled to the floor the moment you hand landed on his cheek.
"That's not what you call me, is it, Crybaby?" You sneered as he cradled his cheek and began to tear up again.
"I'm sorry I'm sorry I'msorry- mhhn, Please don't be mad! (C/n), sir, please!" You placed a hand over his own, silencing him.
"I know you didn't mean it, but we can't have you being bad, can we? No, Crybaby, you have to be a good boy and listen to me. Now, you remember where it is, mark the artery I told you to."
He shakily got up and made an x on the mannequin's neck, precisely where you told him to.
"Good boy" you smiled a bit, " We'll have to work on your crying. as much as your name is apt, no one will like you crying so much when you start to actually work..."
There will be more of this fic but I am stuck.
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Fake girlfriend, Fake boyfriend, silly! - Choi Seung Hyun/T.O.P x reader
Summary: After your manager plotted a fake relationship between his two biggest signed rappers, you and Seung get very close, as best friends, but tell me this...would friends treat friends like how Seung Hyun treats you?
Warnings: None :)
Whenever you were first asked by your manager to start a fake relationship with a guy from one of his boy groups you were complexed, Not recognizing any K-pop idol named Seung Hyun. The first time met him was out at a meeting with your shared boss, Seung Hyun was secretly excited about meeting you, while he found it irritating that his boss felt the need to fake a girlfriend for him, he liked the idea of having someone as cool as you around.
"Seung Hyun, this is Y/n, she's going to your show girl, Y/n, this is Seung Hyun, also known as T.o.p, he'll be your show boy" You manager stated, after that you two became close, using the excuse of having to make it believable to spend almost every minute you could with each other. While you were close with all of BigBang, you and Seung Hyun just clicked together, often sharing a hotel room whenever you'd tour with him for your collaborated shows or songs. It didn't take long after the announcement of your fake relationship for people to immediately either hate or love it, you weren't a rapper like your fake boyfriend, but you did rap in some of your songs, even having a few verses with him where you rapped together, but your manager liked to utilize your voice more, liking the way it wasn't too high pitched but still feminine and calming. You had been 'together' now for almost a year, getting ready for your first full tour with BigBang, you were nervous but also excited, this was big for you, hopefully.
Waking up in your hotel bed you groaned, stretching your body as much as you could before slowly crawling out of your bed before slipping on one of Seung Hyun's hoodies, you weren't sure what time it was, but the sun wasn't up yet, so you knew it was sometime in the middle of the night. You attempted to fall back asleep, but everything was making you uncomfortable, the airport lost your luggage, so nothing in the room made you feel like home, no pillow, blanket, nothing, just the smell of the half ass detergent the hotel used to wash the linens, standing up for the second time you slowly made you way to the connecting you, knowing beyond the door all four guys were most likely asleep, you contemplated on going on, not wanting to risk waking anybody up, but right as you started to turn around Seung Hyun's words echoed in your head 'Don't worry about some silly pillow, if you need something that reminds you of back home, we're all a door away' Turning to face the door again you slowly twisted the knob, watching as it slowly opened into their dark room, all the lights were off and from the faint glow from your bathroom light you could faintly see where everybody was. Ji-Yong and Seung Hyun shared a bed, and Dae-Sung and Tae-Yang shared the other. You pressed Seung Hyun's hoodie to your lips slowly making your way over to whom you hoped to be your fake boyfriend and best friend "Seung hyun" You whispered, feeling your anxiety start to creep up inside of you as he turned his back to you, forcing Ji-yong to stir as well. It wasn't that you were scared or scared of the dark, but ever since you were a teenager you would have severe anxiety in the dark if you sat too long, so standing in the basically pitch-black room wasn't helping your anxiety with not wanting to wake anybody or being in a new weird place.
Trying to stifle your whimpered you felt your hands start to shake as you tried to wake your friend up again "Seung Hyun please...I really need you" You whimpered quietly, instead of your intended target, Ji-Yong slowly sat up, turning his head around confused letting his eyes focus on you "What's up, y/n? Are you okay?" He asked, you bit your lip, trying to swallow the lump in your throat in your throat, sitting up more due to your silence, Ji-yong grabbed his cell phone using the screen brightness to see your face. Seeing your upset state he frowned, catching on to what you were trying to do, he tried to help you, and eventually after about five more minutes, you finally woke Seung Hyun up. As he woke up he shot you both a nasty glare, not wiping it off of his face until his eyes focused and he saw your shaking frame slightly in the dark, without saying anything Seung Hyun just motioned for you to go back to your bed, following behind you with his pillow under his arm. "I-I'm sorry" You whimpered, holding onto the cuffs of the hoodie sleeves, trying any way possible to calm your raging anxiety "Don't. Just lay down, dalkomi" He whispered tiredly, as he pulled the blanket back for you, for a moment you thought he was going to go back to his bed, but instead he just shut the connecting door before laying down next to you "Don't steal all of the blankets again" He warned before wrapping his arm around you pulling you close to where your head laid on his chest, his fingers caressing your spine as you rested your hand on his chest, the more he moved his hand on your back the more you could feel the anxiety slipping away and the tiredness starting to slip in. It didn't take long before Seung Hyun felt your slow relaxed breaths, and the way your hand barely rested on his chest anymore.
You both woke up with a startle, your bandmates standing in your room cooing with their phones out "Sooo cute!" Dae-sung cheered as Seung Hyun groaned slamming his head under the pillow, you just shot them all a tired confused look "Come on Lovers! We have an hour until rehearsals!" Tae-yang reminded as he placed two coffees down on the table, before ushering the others out. Tiredly you turned to look at Seung Hyun who was still hiding under the pillow, you absent-mindedly traced your nails up his back "Aein...handsome, come on" You called sweetly, it wasn't odd for you to call each other pet names, you were actually quite flirty with each other even outside of pretending to be together, you weren't sure about Seung Hyun, but you just liked the way you clicked with him, and you liked the way he'd blush anytime you'd call him into another room by calling him Aein. You watched as he slowly lifted his head "Do we have to?..I'm comfortable" He complained, you just laughed offering him a sympathetic smile as you patted his back "Yep, we have to, now come on, handsome" You replied before climbing off of the bed going towards the large costume bag your manager had dropped off earlier "ooo We're going to look hot, Aein" You cooed as you opened the black bag, seeing the deep red fabrics of a suit and dress, on top of other things, giggling as every outfit was coordinated together, Seung Hyun moved to where you stood smiling "You're going to look amazing" He agreed, you blushed slightly as you pulled out your first outfits, handing the suit to Seung Hyun before you disappeared into the bathroom. After a few moments you both called out "Aein?.." "Dalkomi?" Giggling you opened the bathroom door stepping out "Zip me up?" You asked playfully, he walked over, carefully placing his hands above your waist to hold the fabric of the dress, zipping the zipper up and clasping the small latch he smiled "Tie this damn thing for me?" Seung Hyun asked, playfully pouting as he motioned to the black tie "Of course, handsome" You teased tying the tie effortlessly. As you pulled away you both stopped, staring into each other's eyes before hesitantly pulling away, what was that?
As the show started you stood in the center of the boys, the smoke machines layering a thick smoke over the floor of the stage, as you all dispersed you waited for your cue to start singing. You were having fun, completely forgetting all about your moment with Seung Hyun until Fantastic Baby, you had sat down more to the back of the stage to watch considering you weren't singing and weren't required to preform currently, As soon as Seung Hyun started his first verse he made his way to you pulling you to your feet as he rapped, bringing you close to him before finishing, nodding his head along to Ji-Yong, smiling as he followed to chorography facing you, you just laughed at him starting to mimic his movements, he brought the microphone close to his mouth cheering into the mic before moving back to the center of the stage to continue his second verse.
After the song came to an end you smirked hearing you voice layover theirs, the song transitioning into one of your favorites of yours. As you rapped along to it you took notice of Seung Hyun nodding his head along to your words, throwing some of his own chorography in, Seung Hyun rushed over to you, spinning you around before shaking his hips as he jumped around you, obviously having fun with his free time. As the song ended you panting attempting to catch your breath, Ji-yong circling the stage talking to the crowd as you regrouped with Seung Hyun and the others "Fuck it is next, ready for it?" Tae-yang asked, knowing that was the song that required the most interaction and movement between you and Seung Hyun other than Bae Bae and your back dancing with Seung Hyun for Zutter. "I'm already so tired" You mumbled as the track started to play, Seung Hyun just smiled, kissing your cheek as he rushed past, grouping with the guys for the beginning of the song. Other than your small verse towards the end, your main focus during this song was moving with Seung Hyun and the boys, basically bouncing between them all as a long interest.
Whenever the boys preformed If you, you used your opportunity to take a break, sitting down and taking a drink of your water you smiled in awe. You never heard Seung Hyun actually sing often, but you always loved it, you thought it sounded exactly how you manager described your voice. Whenever Zutter came on came on you were proud of yourself, hitting every move and mark perfectly with the music, and even whenever you'd throw you own little moves in with Seung Hyun, he still always knew what to do somehow, you watched as he pointed at you while rapping, you just rolled your eyes as you danced, giggling whenever you felt Seung Hyun press his hips against yours from behind, bouncing his hips with the beat of the music, your face immediately broke out in a blush as you smacked his chest in shock.
Whenever it came to your last song you purposely saved the most sexual and vulgar for last, you liked the chorography a lot, liking how confident it made you feel as you slid on to your knees at the end of the stage, bouncing on your knees for a moment as you sang, letting yourself slowly fall back you slid back arching your back away from the cold stage surface, silently thanking the spandex shorts under your dress, your head arched just enough to see Seun Hyun running his hands up his body and neck, mimicking your song from his spot at the far with the other boys. As the song ended you stayed were you were, waiting a moment for Seung Hyun to make his way helping you to your feet "That move was new" He stated on your walk back "You think the boss is going to like it?" He teased, you just rolled your eyes "I don't care, I did it for you, Aein" You smiled teasingly watching his face go red, as you all made your way to the end of the stage you smiled, standing on your mark on the platform waiting for the boys to reach theirs before you posed, you immediately kneeled down, using your hands to stabilize yourself Seung Hyun moved forward, pressing his fingers to your cheeks for you, causing you to giggle as the bass to Fantastic Baby played one last time before you all made your way towards the exit of the stage. As you approached the mark you slowed down, blushing brightly whenever Seung Hyun's hand quickly touched your ass, you turned around pretending to storm off stage, Seung Hyun looked towards the ground one last time before winking and running after you.
As you got off stage you were a blushing mess, Seung Hyun quick to find you, a bright smile on his face "I knew you'd be amazing! That's why you're T.O.P Best friend" He said proudly, never noticing your face falling as he called out your real title.
Right..Best friend
---
Ooo we love a slow burn with a fake relationship concept PLUS a clueless but cocky Choi Seung Hyun AND the rest of the band loving you? I dunno about you lovelies, but this gal likes a lot.
--
Taglist!!
@ag022123
@acehasmyheart
@heartz4rubyy
#thanos x reader#choi su bong x reader#squid game#squidgame#top x reader#thanos squid game#squid game thanos#choi seunghyun#t.o.p x reader#choi seung hyun x reader#t.o.p bigbang#top#tech#t.o.p icons
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People could like or dislike any fictional characters, even real people, as they please. No one is the regulator or the gatekeeper of that, as long as people's behaviors don't cross the lines.
BoBs hate Tommy Kinard. They even use what I think as hypocritical reasons to justify their hate, like saying how Tommy is a racist while ignoring his redemption arc in Season 2. I might respect them if they were just being honest by saying "I hate Tommy Kinard because he's the obstacle of my ship," but they weren't. So, eventhough I roll my eyes everytime I read that reason, it's still their right to do so. They don't cross the lines.
However, they cross the lines when:
they harass other people who disagree with them,
they do not use appropriate tags on Tommy bashing posts, or even use BT tags on their Tommy bashing posts,
they write negative comments about Tommy/Lou on Tommy positive posts, or even on unrelated posts.
they harass Lou and/or other casts and crews.
Those behaviors are crossing the lines between their community and our community, even between viewers and actors. They are not welcome. Their actions scream "I'm begging for attention", and it makes them look pathetic.
Similar principles apply within Bucktommy fans. A lot of us blame 118 family for not encouraging Buck to reach out to Tommy. Some of us put the blame on our fics, and that is fine. That's within our right as writers. Don't like, don't read. However, we might need to put it on the summaries/notes/tags/warnings, so readers know what's on the fics.
Some of us like Tommy more than Buck, and that is also fine. We might relate more to Tommy than to Buck, and it is our right to feel how we feel. No one has the right to regulate whom we like or dislike, or whom we can or cannot relate to.
Some of us might even only support Tommy and Buck but not other couples, or watch the show only for Tommy/Lou. It's also fine. Likewise, no one has the right to regulate who we support or not support, or why we watch the show.
If anything, it's similar with how Ryan Guzman might have refused to play a queer character. It is his right to do so. No one has the right to force him to play a queer Eddie if he didn't want to.
probably gonna ruffle some feathers with this, but i've seen quite a bit of ~discourse~ the last few days and uh, people in 9-1-1 fandom DO understand that while buck IS a main character, tommy become as popular as he is because he was the OTHER HALF of a canon male slash ship, yes? and people DO understand that, even if it doesn't apply to you, some fans are going to feel more strongly about tommy regardless of him being a side character because they relate to him more than the 30-something still trying to figure out whether he should be calling himself bisexual, yes?
"making a mountain out of a mole hill" vibes around here as of late, ngl. YOU can feel how you want about buck while acknowledging that bucktommy is what REALLY left an impact considering buck's sexuality has solely been tied to tommy thus far. (and that's why people are still pissed. because they cared about THE RELATIONSHIP.)
#bucktommy#buck x tommy#buck tommy#tevan#kinkley#anti buddie#antibuddie#911 discourse#911 negativity#911 wank#911 fandom#911#911 show#911 abc#911 on abc
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Can you please do headcanons where you work at a restaurant as a server/bartender and Art is your S/O and he comes in? OMG PLEAAASE this would make my heart so happy 🥺
It took me a while but these headcanons are finally complete, thank you for your patience! At first it started out as a more traditional headcanons list but as I was writing it, it kind of turned into a fic but I liked the headcanons format so I just stuck with it lol 😅 I hope you enjoy 😊🥰💕
Word count: around 1.5k✍️
No warnings for this one btw, this is all just sweet fluff 😇💜
(Also credit to @hauntedfoodie as well for coming up with the cocktail recipe! 😄🫶)
✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨
-Working as a bartender and server was an extremely tiring job, ESPECIALLY when you had to work around the holidays
-It seems like the restaurant would go into holiday mode earlier and earlier every year, your manager already having made your coworkers put up multicolored string lights and an assortment of glittery holiday decorations all over the walls and in the windows ✨🎄🎁
-You would be lying if you said that the decor didn’t brighten up the place and make it ever so slightly easier to bare, but it was definitely still a draining job as it would usually be so much busier around this time of year
-You were working on one of the rare slightly-more-manageable nights when suddenly, you noticed your boyfriend Art strolling up to your bar casually, wearing his Santa suit so he could better blend in ✨
-Usually, even though you loved to see him, you preferred that he stayed home or just didn't come in to your workplace to visit you, not wanting to draw too much attention to your boyfriend as to not make anyone suspicious of a clown constantly showing up on the premises, but you suppose the Santa suit helped a bit. You watched as he comically shimmied into his seat, the harsh clang of his heavy trash bag still able to be heard amongst all the commotion of the restaurant; it didn't take long for the few people sitting on either side of him to get up and walk away without another glance back 🤡🎅
-Trying not to make it obvious that you had any relation to him, you walked over to the clown like you would any other customer; Art’s eyes lit up instantly, his slender fingers giddily waving at you and blowing you a heavily exaggerated kiss as he noticed your presence 😙
-You leaned over slightly and whispered “What the hell are you doing here? I thought you were supposed to be laying low for now”, concerned that his behavior seemed to be getting bolder and bolder as the days progressed closer to Christmas; you had come to terms with having to accept Art's lifestyle, but you were just worried about him getting in trouble or hurt- he's reassured you many times that everything's under control and that he'd be fine, but you still worried about him occasionally 🥺😓
-Art shrugged his shoulders playfully in response, pointing at himself and then back at you followed by a heart shape with his hands as he smiled at you innocently :3 🫶😃😋
-You sighed and shook your head. “Well, if you're gonna stay here for a bit, you're gonna at least need to have a drink so my managers don't get suspicious and kick you out for loitering on the property"
-Art pouted and folded his arms, the thick fabric of the Santa suit bunching up around his thinner frame, his tongue sticking out in disgust 😒
-You rolled your eyes. "I know you think alcohol is gross, babes, but I think I might know something I could make for you that you might actually like.” Art gave you a look as if to say “I don't believe you in the slightest- but good luck” and moved to rest his arms along the dark wooden bar, his focus shifting to absentmindedly running his fingertips back and force over its smooth surface
-You leaned over and grabbed a clean glass. “Alright, just give me a few minutes, I've got a couple of drink orders I need to fill first and then I'll bring you yours.” Art huffed silently, forever the impatient baby, but ultimately nodded in understanding 💖
-You turned and wandered back to the other side of the bar, grabbing a few extra glasses and placing them under the taps for the other patrons. Once their orders were fulfilled, then you got started on Art’s special cocktail 🥂
-You decided to go for something festive and classic, something very fruity and sweet that you knew would mesh with the clown’s tastebuds in a more pleasing manner than the hard liquor he had been offered in the past
-You decided to craft Art a cocktail made with moscato wine, white cranberry juice, lemon lime soda, and a smattering of whole cranberries on the top; perfect for the holiday season, and perfect for your clown boyfriend who loved his sweets 🥰🍹
-Strolling back over to his seat, you found Art reaching over the bar, trying to grab a handful of the little sharp wooden skewers you would use for fruit in certain drinks- when he noticed you a few steps away, Art quickly pulled his hand back into his lap and tried to feign innocence once more, pretending to whistle and look back and forth ⚔️🙄🤗😁
-You shook your head and smiled at him, placing a napkin down in front of him with his drink on top
-Art’s eyes went wide with curiosity at the sight of the bright cranberries floating atop the bubbly liquid, his eyes soon meeting yours again as he cocked his head slightly in heightened interest 😲😍
-”Trust me, you'll love it. I made sure it was extra sweet for my sweet-loving clown” you told him with a grin as you leaned against the counter, saying the last part in a hushed tone so only he could hear 😌💖🍬🍭
-Art tapped his finger against his temple and pointed back at you with it to signify he understood, his grin blossoming wider across his features bashfully at your words before glancing back down at the drink and wringing his hands together in excitement
-Before you could wait to see if he liked it, another patron across the bar waved you down. “I'll be back soon, I hope you enjoy it!” you told him, heading back to attend to your other customers
-You couldn’t help but watch out of the corner of your eye as you worked from across the bar as Art lifted the glass to his mouth and took a big sip, chugging the entire thing down in one go (he always drank way too quickly, you made a mental note to remind him to savor his drinks in the future lol)🍾😂
-The glass made contact with the bar, clinking pleasantly as it did so, Art’s eyes meeting yours again as he motioned for you to return to him when you could get the chance
-”Sooo, how was it? Have I finally found an alcoholic drink that you can actually enjoy?”, you asked him. Art’s smile grew as he nodded in rapid succession, patting his tummy to indicate that he thought it was delicious 🤤😋
-Your smile mirrored his as you leaned over to grab his empty glass, giving the counter a quick wipe to get rid of any condensation left behind with the cleaning rag in your other hand. “Good, I'm glad you liked it! I had a sneaking suspicion that you'd prefer something much sweeter.”
-Art nodded again and motioned with one finger up for you to wait a minute as he leaned over, grabbing his red spray painted garbage bag and rummaging through it 🎒
-Resting your elbows on the bar, you realized that Art was trying to give you money for the drink; an array of dirtied coins was plopped onto the bar top as he began counting out the loose change piece by piece (most of it consisting of primarily pennies) 🪙💰
-”Baby, don't worry about that, it's on the house. It was a practice drink for me anyway, and I don't mind buying a drink for good ole Saint Nick- especially for a super cute one at that.” You winked at him with a smirk as you placed more glasses under the taps, beginning to fill them up with various golden hued lagers for the other patrons' seemingly never ending slurry of orders 🍺🍻
-Art’s mouth opened in surprised shock before grinning again, waving the compliment off cheekily and kicking his feet a bit. With one swipe, he pushed all of the loose change back into the bag, the tiny circles of metal clanging around as they fell in amongst the array of other interesting items that he carried around with him 🤭
-The clown motioned to his wrist as if he was wearing a watch, silently asking you how much longer you had to be here for until your shift was over. “I’ve got about 2 more hours, love. And then I'll meet you back at home and we can cuddle and watch some movies, sound good?” ⏱️⌚️⏳
-Art smirked and nodded, satisfied as he stood up from the bar stool and stretched dramatically 🙆
-He grabbed his trash bag and ceremoniously slung it over his shoulder, blowing a kiss to you slyly before turning to leave the restaurant 😘💋
-You pretended to wipe down the bar as you watched him walk away, the bright red backside of his jolly disguise slowly becoming smaller in view before disappearing completely into the holiday hustle and bustle 🎁🎄🎅✨
Extra post bar scenario:
-When you arrived back home later that evening, you were surprised to find about 30 bottles of moscato and a huge pile of bagged cranberries that had definitely seen better days all lined up on your kitchen counter; you found Art sitting cross-legged on the couch in the living room, still wearing his Santa outfit and pretending to intently read a book, miming laughter at certain parts as his finger skimmed across the page he had randomly opened on 📚
-You confronted the clown about the bottles of wine, to which he simply put his hands up and shrugged his shoulders, the start of a signature smirk playfully skirting on the corners of his black painted mouth 😏😁😋💖
#I really hope you enjoy these! Sorry it took me so long to get these done lol ily! 💖💖🥰🫶💕#a little late for the holidays/new years but that's ok lol art is cute anytime of the year🤭😋🥰#art the clown#terrifier#david howard thornton#terrifier 3#art the clown x reader#art the clown headcanons#slashers x reader#art the clown x you#slashers x you#art the clown fanfic#Art the clown fanfiction
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May Osewai - Crippling Case of the Cringe
you better hope to god she isn't actually sadako, because she will judge you on your search history on her way through your browser--
Mayumi “May” Osewai [09/09/81] Secretary of Manga AOL / Online Users : [sadako_chan] Theme Songs: Living Dead Girl - Rob Zombie | She’s Out of Her Mind - blink-182 | FUNERAL GREY - Waterparks
Favorite Shit: Anime Adaptations, Visual novels, Horror / Gore, Battle Royale(s), Monster Movies, Slasher Flicks, Acrylic Stands, Hard Covers, Asian horror, Foreign Films, Evangelion : Neon Genesis, Ghost in the Shell, Corpse Party, Torrent Sites, The X-Men, Spawn, Teen Titans, Accurate Translations, Uncensored Doujins, Silent Hill, Serial Experiments : Lain
Dude get this girl a therapist and someone other than a rabid werewolf for a brain-worm weird fluttery thought friend GUEHAKL. please. please. With literally no other friends and no longer in an environment surrounded by.. "peers", she kind of has no choice but to keep putting up with Bill despite how much of a creep he gets sometimes. They're like a family.. A horrifically disfunctional family that should maybe only meet every other christmas, and yet they're glued together despite it all. It has to be karma punishing them, right?
We are the weirdos, Mister.
This poor girl has a really bad anxiety problem and is also horrifically oblivious to a lot of things which is not a good combo. She hates the thought of missing something or making someone upset by having to make them explain, but good god she cannot read a room sometimes--
She also maybe most definitely has autism. that might have something to do with it..
She masks well enough that she genuinely just thought she was "weird" and just kinda accepted it when she moved to the states. She didn't even start to think about it until Jerry started bringing up the shit he learned in therapy.
She honestly is just kinda.. Blunt? good or bad, though she does have enough forethought to keep the bad thoughts to herself most of the time. It's more in a quiet "wait, what did she just say?" kind of way.
She struggles to express actual internal monologue, her actual emotions and thoughts on the boys, but she shows it in.. other ways.
She genuinely cares about the boys, yes even bill, though he's like.. Like if Jane and Bill were closer in age and Bill actually wouldn't leave her the FUCK alone.
Though it's not like Pete's any better-- he always so weirdly macho and it's... kinda funny? Weirdly endearing? Like a little terrier going going absolutely ballistic on the screen door. Heh. cute.
May has designed entire pokemon decks and trainer teams for the boys. They'll get posted eventually I promise vuv
She absolutely tries to play card games with Jerry and Matt, though she really only likes the play Pokemon and Yu-Gi-Oh, but she'll happily watch the two smears duke it out.
its kinda funny seeing Matt lose every once in a while.
May and Josh argue about Evangelion ALL THE TIME and it's honestly annoying but it's also very funny to see Josh get flashbacks about asuka--
She is also one of the first people Josh goes to to hang out with, even if it's just over a phone call.. well, at least for a while. He likes to talk, so she just kinda doodled mindlessly or painted her figures while listening.
... she could tell he needed it.
ALso girls omg she is still the clumsiest woman I have ever seen. She might need a new prescription like seriously.
May got a job at the local family video, so you bet your ASS Pete harasses her at work whenever he can sneak out of his own work duties. He's lucky he's cute...
She may be oblivious to some emotions, but she's not stupid.
She collects stuffed animals, but mostly pokemon plushies and assorted horror mascots. She is still really embarrassed about having them, but literally can't sleep if she doesn't have at least one like it's a problem--
She is also like icy cold. All the time. like she just pulled her hands out of the freezer. Pete uses this as an excuse to hold her hands because he's a fucking smear I swear to god he needs to grow some BALLS
ALSO HI CAN I TALK ABOUT HER SHIRT FOR LIKE 10 SECONDS ITs an indie japanese-canadian band called "Rotten Cherries" and it does rock covers of japanese pop music and even some remakes of songs by The Cranberries and Boa
THanks guYs
Also I enjoy the reference pic for her pajama shorts LMAO
GUYH Have May.
Also sorry for repeat info at the top, it's to keep with the formatting fhdsjkafinfdsajhfkdlsfhl
#the eltingville club#the helltingville club#eltingville fanart#welcome to eltingville#eltingville oc#eltingville club#the eltingville club oc#my headcanons#my artwork#my art#my oc stuff#oc x canon#oc headcanons#nobody is allowed to ask why the fuck I suddenly drew toes
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So I rewatched Mastermind, specifically the court scene. It's interesting to observe this near constant back and forth between Andrealphus and Vassago. It's quite obvious they know each other. But it's unclear how well they know each other. Just how deep is the connection between them, I wonder?
When we first see them, Andre hasn't even started talking yet, and Vassago is already glaring directly at him. Andre might be looking at Vassago too, it's hard to tell, but it feels significant that they’re directly opposite from one another, on the opposite ends of the room. At this point nobody knows Andre is going to be in the spotlight, but Vassago certainly seems to pay attention to him. Therefore, he absolutely knows this bitch and he knows he's up to something. There is history between the two of them.
The "okay, Vassago, shut the fuck up" line is the most obvious implication about their familiarity. I also find it interesting how Vassago is the only one standing up to Andre and has no problem challenging him or yelling at him. And yet, after Andre's emotional burst, Vassago pretty much dismisses him, apparently knowing there's no point arguing with him. This also implies there is deeper familiarity between them.
After Blitz blurts out ”if I wanted to kill Stolas I would have done it myself” and unintentionally incriminates himself, Andre is looking directly at Vassago to see his reaction. And he smirks. At Vassago. Nobody else. Why does he need to convince Vassago of all people? 🤔 Sus. Also, when Satan sentences Blitz, it’s interesting how they show Andre and Vassago and their reactions almost back to back like that.
Idk it all feels very intentional. It feels like there’s a small story being told through these small details. At least to me it feels significant, because these moments show how they notice each other and watch each other throughout the whole scene, even when neither of them are in the spotlight.
So, what's up? Are they frenemies? Enemies to lovers? Lovers to enemies?? Lovers to enemies and back to lovers??? Ugh just fuck him and shut him up, Vassago.
Of course I might be reading too much into this (probably because I'm pretty desperate to see my silly ship together lmao), but I certainly hope the connection between them is more than ”they know each other from goetian social functions”.
Also, why confirm them as gay if this detail is not going to get explored in any way? Sure, the subject of their sexuality can be handled in many ways (and potentially never get "explored" in canon, as characters can just exist as gay without it being a big deal), and it certainly doesn't have to automatically lead to romantic storylines. I just find it interesting how out of all the goetias it's these two specifically that have been confirmed as gay (in addition to Stolas) - and Vassago's sexuality got confirmed before he even appeared in the show. Surely, that has to mean something?
....please?
tl;dr: I’m going to be really sad if there won’t be any sort of established (past or future) relationship between these two in canon. I really want to see more scenes between Andrealphus and Vassago.
tl;dr2: I really want them to fuck.
#helluva boss#andrealphus#vassago#vassalphus#icyago#blitzo#stolas#mastermind#helluva boss andrealphus#helluva boss vassago#my stuff#ruumiipersonal
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TreeHouse Chapter 4
"A gentleman always pays for the date."
Summary: Sienne gets more than she wants from her date with Matt
"The halls of high school may echo with love, but the future is rarely paved with it."
⚠️This Fic Series will NOT be for people with triggers. This Fic Series will have very descriptive moments of abuse.⚠️
Please Read At Your Own Risk.
Sienna's POV:
The basketball game tonight was on the outside courts because the weather was decent. Julia insisted I wear something super cute to impress Matt. I let Julia dress me up, unsure of what would impress Matt. She put me in the most uncomfortable skirt. The skin-tight long-sleeve shirt wasn't as bad, but the amount of cleavage it showed was unnecessary. The best part about the outfit was my black high-top boots. They were comfortable, and they were actually mine.
"I don't see Matt."
"Nick, either." AK was also looking.
"Are you sure you're not -"
"Everyone knows Nick is one inch taller than Matt." Both Julia and I stopped and looked at him with the same expression.
"Everyone?" We both said in unison.
"He's the oldest too. Did you know that?" He ignored our judgment.
"Anyways... Keep looking for Matt." We went back to searching for him. He seemed to be all about me, but Julia was all about finding him. He was cute, and Nick was cute. I didn't know either of them well, though, other than whatever rumors were spread around school that I chose to listen to.
"There they are." The pair walking in was like a movie scene. Almost everyone was watching them, and Nick slowly threw his head back in laughter while Matt had a hot smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. The only thing missing was if people were taking pictures and flashing lights on them.
"Matt!" Julia was quick to get his attention in our direction. He head nodded at her, and she gasped.
"Julia, he's not a celebrity." Once he saw me standing in the bleachers next to her, he held up a single finger. I couldn't help but smile. He and Nick stood in the middle of the entryway with the concessions, talking for a minute, and then Nick headed to the stand while Matt headed towards us.
"Hey Sienna," he immediately grabbed me in a hug. His smell was fresh and clean, and I wondered what soap he used in the shower. I quickly reprimanded myself for being weird and broke the hug apart. "You look amazing," he looked me up and down. I suddenly felt self-conscious.
"Thank you." I blushed and looked down slightly, letting my hair cover it.
"Where is Nick?" AK wasn't subtle about his concerns.
"He is getting us all snacks. Might need help carrying them." Matt pointed over his shoulder with his thumb.
"Peace." AK started walking down the bleachers. The three of us sat down.
"So, you like basketball?" I asked Matt, trying to figure out something to talk about.
"Yeah, it's not bad. I could never play, though. I'm the worst." I giggled at his joke.
"I'm pretty good maybe I could teach you a thing or two?" I tried to be flirty. Having thee Matthew Sturniolo's attention was the best way to gain popularity in school. Not that I wanted it or cared but I knew Julia was hoping for a seat at the cool kids table so to speak.
"You play?" He leaned back to look at me.
"Yeah, I play a lot of sports." It was true. Whether I was good or not was a different story. I was pretty much mediocre at all of them except swimming. I have won a few awards from competitions at our school and outside organizations where I competed. Swimming was a freeing feeling. Being under the water, everything stopped.
"That's pretty cool." He wrapped his arm around my shoulder, and I saw Julia start to freak out. Nick and AK came back, holding everything haphazardly.
"Drinks. Candy. Popcorn." They started dishing it all out.
"You didn't have to buy us anything." I started saying.
"Of course I did. A gentleman always pays for the date." He smirked that intoxicating smirk.
"Date?" Julia whispered behind us while looking at AK.
"Thank you, Matt. That's so sweet of you." I glared at her since she wasn't very quiet. The game started, and Matt paid more attention to that than me. I wasn't complaining, though; his attention made me nervous. He stood up and cheered when someone's shot went in. "I'm gonna go to the bathroom." I stood up and looked behind me at Julia. She nodded and stood up to come with me.
"He is so into you." She gushed as soon as we were further down the bleachers.
"I know, but... why?" I asked, holding the door for her.
"You are so cool and hot. Maybe Ms. Williams did you a favor." She had a smug grin.
"I still hate you for that."
"Hey, Matt doesn't seem to mind," she winked as she came out of the stall. As we washed our hands, I looked at myself in the mirror. I just didn't feel like myself. I felt like I was forcing it, whatever it was. "Coming?" she asked by the door. I looked down at the water running over my fingers, with no visible soap left.
"Yeah. I'll be out in a minute." I forced a smile. I dried my hands and scrolled ConNext. I let out a sigh and smiled at myself one time in the mirror. Matt was so attractive that there was no point in being with me, but we would see how the night went. I pushed the door open and started walking down between the brick wall and the gate around the sports complex.
"Hey." Matt approached me, meeting me in the middle.
"Hi." I smiled and flipped my hair over my shoulder.
"You enjoying the game?" He looked fidgety.
"Uh, yeah." I lied. I didn't really enjoy watching it as much as I did playing it, and I couldn't stop wondering why he was suddenly showing interest in me the whole time, so I was just distracted all around. "What about you?"
"It's good. Wish we could talk more." He leaned back against the wall.
"About what?" I asked, skeptical.
"Just in general. I wanna talk about anything." He shrugged.
"Okay, let's start with why you are suddenly interested in me." The words left my mouth before I could make them sound flirtatious.
"Oh." He straightened up. "I guess I always kinda had eyes for you. You're really nice, and I like your style." He looked me up and down and wasn't afraid to make it obvious. I felt my cheeks get hot at his actions.
"Really?" I asked, a little shocked. I had no idea I had been on his radar for a while or even at all.
"Of course." He stepped closer to me and tugged me into him. "Why not?" He whispered. He pulled me into him, and I didn't hesitate. I felt his lips press on mine, and I melted into the touch. He was definitely experienced. His motions were swift and sensual. He moaned a little as his long fingers worked their way down into my skirt from my hips.
"No." I pushed back a little. He gripped me and pulled me in. Gripping me tightly.
"No?" He asked, looking into my eyes. His eyes gave me that sense of comfort again, but I knew my own personal boundaries.
"N.. no..." I stuttered. I was sure of my answer but unsure of his harsh actions holding me still.
"Come on." He started sucking on my neck, and his fingers played with my underwear band.
"No, Matt." I pushed myself off of him again. I made it free from his grip and marched back to Julia. Matt wasn't far behind me.
"Hey." She was unaware of what had happened. Matt awkwardly put his arm around my shoulder again, holding me close to him. I didn't want to ruin the mood for the rest of the game, so I didn't say anything then, but I planned on telling her everything tomorrow.
A/N I accidentally posted Chapter 3 instead of Drafting it like I wanted to and then @chriss-slutt was so so sweet tonight I decided why not just post the next chapter for her too?
TreeHouse Taglist:
@trevorsgodmother @mintsturniolo @wysmols @chriss-slutt @middlepartmatt @blushsturns @shadowtheism @fratbrochrisgf @forgottxen
This fic is TAGLIST SPECIFIC, meaning in order to be tagged in this, you HAVE to be on the list. I'm doing this because of TRIGGERS.
REBLOG INSTRUCTIONS: I don't mind just please stress the trigger warnings so no backlash comes back to me!
Enjoy Matt and Si cooking 😏😘
#victim!chris treehouse#victim!chris x nessie#victim!chris#nessie treehouse#nessie#treehouse#juno characters ✨#christopher owen#chris sturniolo abuse#chris sturniolo#chris sturniolo au#christopher owen sturniolo#matthew sturniolo#matt sturniolo#matthew bernard sturniolo
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Some smut please. A shy fem reader getting beckoned by a succubus into a secluded, private booth to share drinks and pleasant conversation with her. The succubus is slowly pumping pheromones in the booth making her hot n bothered and giving her a drink that makes her breasts expand and lactate uncontrollably.
Warnings: Sex, Sexual Situations, Lactation Kink, Semi Public Sex, Succubus, Pheromone/Aphrodisiac Play, Reader Approved Drugging, Finger Fucking, Milk Drinking, Monster x Reader
You don’t know why you follow the delicate hand into the covered booth. You know most people who slide into booths don’t come out for a while; these are the ‘sex booths’ after all. Her nails are so pretty, glittering like golden stars and you follow, for once not giving a fuck. You’ve had a long week and you want a drink and if a pretty lady wants to give you one, why not?
She’s gorgeous, long black pin-straight hair and magenta eyes that glow in the dim light. She smiles and you smile back, face going hot. Normally you’re not this bold, not this eager but tonight you’re going to try.
“Hello darling, staying for a while?” Her voice is smooth like silk and you nod, not able to look at her directly as you sit. She laughs, not at all bothered and settling in across the tiny table. You watch out of the corner of your eye as she crosses her legs, long tan legs leading to a tiny black dress.
“If you don’t mind me sitting with you.” You finally remember how to speak and the woman coos, nails trailing over leather seats delicately.
“I would love it if you stayed.” She sticks her hand out of the booth again and snaps her fingers once. Immediately there’s a tray pushed through and she hands you a glass of something bright purple and full of glitter. You take it with a smile and sip; it tastes like your favorite flavors and only slightly on alcohol.
“I’d like to stay too.” Her smile feels a little more genuine at your words and she leans forward, showing an impressive amount of cleavage.
“Wonderful. Call me Mimi.” You respond back with your name without thinking and Mimi smiles, pushing her hair over her shoulder. “What brings you in tonight?”
The drinks she gives you are stronger than you thought. You’re not a lightweight but your head is pleasantly spinning after a glass and you begin to tell her about your shitty week. Mimi listens sympathetically, offering a joke here or there that make you giggle. You slowly begin to relax, settling into the booth as Mimi does the same.
You noticed a few things an hour later, on your third glass of ‘Purple Rain’ as Mimi called them. One, the club noises seemed farther away now and you could hear someone moaning in the booth next to you. Second, your chest and shirt felt tight, rubbing against the fabric hard. Third, you’d moved next to Mimi, leaning so close you could kiss her. She doesn’t move closer, watching you with bright eyes and you seem to come back into reality.
“Something wrong honey?” Her voice was teasing but not cruel, hand gently brushing against yours. You were panting now, mouth half open and you whimpered, chest aching. You looked down to see your breasts were at least two cup sizes larger and the buttons about to pop. The groan that left your throat was involuntary, Mimi giggling across from you.
“I-I feel hot.” You tried your best to form coherent answers, whimpering as your chest began to grow again. This time you felt it more, the strain painful against your button down. Mimi hummed, fingers moving to undo your shirt. You watched as slowly, one by one, she undid the buttons.
Your shirt didn’t need any more encouragement, the last few flying off as the pressure got to be too much. Your breasts were so large now your nipples and areoles were visible over your bra. Mimi didn’t even bother to take your bra off, squeezing your chest as milk began to bead. Your mouth opened wider into a moan, head hitting the back of the booth.
Your skin felt like it was on fire, every nerve singing in relief as milk began to stream steadily from your chest. You shuddered, breasts bouncing so hard you flushed again.
“So sweet.” Your eyes focused on Mimi as she talked, delicately taking a finger from her mouth. Her eyes were the brightest light in the booth, magenta making you squirm. She was focused on your chest, cooing as you gave another whimper. Your chest expanded again and you couldn’t take it, lifting a hand to squeeze yourself. Her tongue darted out, the forked ends sliding between her fingers.
Two groans filled the air, milk spilling onto the leather and all over your lap. You didn’t fight Mimi as she pushed you onto the booth, completely naked now. Probably succubus magic. The leather was heaven against your skin and you cried out as she pushed two fingers into your pussy. You didn’t realize you were this wet, thighs covered and clit throbbing in time with your heartbeat.
“What a pretty thing.” Mimi began to fuck you with her fingers, the steadiness of her thrusts causing your chest to bounce. You moaned, not caring about how loud you were as milk began to dribble out faster, rivets moving down every inch of skin. It smelled sweet and creamy, saturating every inch of the booth. You rocked into Mimi’s thrusts, the succubus never slowing down or stopping.
She didn’t wrap her lips around your nipple until you came, squirting as she began to drink. Your second orgasm was right after the first, like your nipple was connected to your clit. Every swipe of Mimi’s tongue, every suck, had your clit twitching and pussy tightening. Mimi moaned, still fucking you with her fingers. You closed your eyes and whimpered, pushing your chest closer to her mouth.
She wouldn’t stop until you were drained dry. It was the least she could do after all.
#original monster#succubus x reader#monster girlfriend#monster girlfriend x reader#succubi x reader#succubus imagine#original monster imagine#monster imagine
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hi love! for juicy january could i request fluff prompts 18 and 32 please
love the idea for your event, so very much may be back for another request!
Thank you! Please feel free to come back for more! As Always 18+
Butterfly.
Juice was sipping his beer as he did another lap of the clubhouse. He frowned, it was unlike you to no show for a club party let alone one that signified a big deal they had made. Maybe you and your late were running late? He thought to himself. While he was relieved a bit to not have to deal with pretending he was happy about this guy you were with a bigger part of him was worried. If you were running late you would have texted or called. Maybe the guy got cold feet about meeting your family? His eyes landed on Chibs as he sat with Tig and Happy. Making his way over he figured it wouldn’t be odd to inquire.
“Lassies not coming” stated Chibs the minute Juice came into view making Tig and Happy laugh.
“I …wasn’t…” started Juice as he looked away. Cheeks warm as he took a sip of his beer. “Was just coming over to say hi and chat” he added trying to sound casual.
Chibs snorted and shared a glance with Tig. “Uh-huh. What did you want to chat about then?”
“The weather” replied Juice as he scuffed his boot on the floor. “It’s been weird”
“Like you” stated Happy quietly setting Tig over again. Juice shot him a quick glare before turning back to Chibs.
“So why is she not coming? Car trouble? I can go get them?’ he questioned as he played with his keys. Truthfully he would rather just get you but he would be nice and pick your date up as well.
“Aye, shes got a little heartbreak and wasn’t feeling like socializing” answered Chibs as he sighed. “These young bucks just don’t know how to handle a lass”.
“Oh” replied Juice perking up. He nodded a moment before tossing his half empty beer and heading towards the door. Chibs and Tig shared another look as they watched him go.
You had just finished up changing into a pair of sweats and a SAMCRO tshirt you had stolen from Juice when you heard a knock at your door. Sighing you wiped at a couple tears that had fallen before looking through the peephole. Your heart rate sped up as your eyes fell on the guy you had had a crush on for forever. You had never acted on it because you didn’t want to make things awkward and he could have any woman he wanted. No way he would be interested in you, socially since your uncle was one of his brothers.
“Hey” you stated quietly as you opened the door.
“Hey!” greeted Juice enthusiastically as he held up a shopping bag as he stepped towards you. “I got ice cream, wine and popcorn”.
You laughed as you moved to let him enter. “You didn’t have to leave the party to bring me that” you stated as you watched him curiously as he kicked his boots off before heading to your kitchen. You had expected him to just be doing a drop off not staying.
“It’s no big deal. Club parties happen all the time. So many people there they won’t notice I’m gone” he called as he rummaged around in your drawers for your wine opener, spoons and ice cream scoop. “Besides you’re my best friend and need me.
“You cancelled your plans and are skipping the party for me?” you asked in shock as you grabbed bowls and set them in front of him as he began scooping huge chunks of ice cream into them.
“Yep” replied Juice as he glanced up at you briefly. Taking a deep breath he set the scoop down “You give me butterflies. Make me nervous and I just need to do this sorry” he stated before grabbing your face and kissing you gently.
“Don’t apologize” you replied as he pulled back before you pushed forward kissing him.
#RavennasJuicyJanuary#sons of anarchy#juice ortiz#soa fanfiction#ravennasmasterlist#juan juice ortiz x reader#imagine juice#juice fanfic#juice fanfiction#juice imagines#juice imagine#juice ortiz fanfic#juice ortiz fanfiction#juice ortiz fic#juice ortiz headcanons#juice ortiz imagines#juice ortiz x reader#juice ortiz x you#juice x reader#sons of anarchy x reader#sons of anarchy fanfiction#sons of anarchy fanfic
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Me versus a fanfic idea, trying to cohere
Having been watching some of "My Adventures With Superman" lately, and I have become kind of obsessed with a crack idea that came to me last night at fuck o'clock in the morning, that being: what if (in the MAWS continuity or any one in which the Kents are both alive) Jonathan and Martha got roped into briefly housing or fostering a teen after Clark was out on his own?
I mean. Like. Imagine you're this kid. You are staying with the most tragically uncool individuals on this planet, but they're honestly nice, they aren't bothered by all the stuff that got you labeled A Troubled Youth or the gender stuff you may have going on or any of that, they just seem fundamentally Able To Roll With It, and, okay, this is going to be fine. It's temporary anyway. Just keep out of trouble.
And they have an adult son who comes around sometimes? He's kind of nice too. Maybe twenty-one, twenty-two, he's built like a moose and you'd think he'd be imposing but he's kind of shy and awkward and somehow just fundamentally Not Like the people who beat you up before, so you're pretty chill with him. He knows all the good places on the farm to sit and think, or sit and draw. One time when he comes around he shows you the creek and you learn all about the frogs and the crawdads and the snakes. Tells you about the corn snake he rescued once. Stuff like that.
Only some things really don't add up.
Like, there's never a car in the driveway when he shows up. And it's not on weekends or anything like that, it's weird times.
And there's a note on the fridge that says, "If you drink all the milk please replace it THIS MEANS YOU," and before long you figure out it's gotta be meant for him, because he will take a gallon and finish it a glass at a time and who can even do that without throwing up? Wasn't there some kind of ghastly TikTok challenge about that?
And when you joked to his Dad and Mom that he seems to have a real superpower for figuring out whether there is going to be pie, you got such weird, almost nervous looks that you quickly dropped the subject.
And one time you swear he appeared out of absolutely nowhere to walk you back to the house because Mr. Peterson's bull broke the fence and is wandering this way. (He was the first one to realize this. How did he realize this? He's sort of guiltily evasive on the subject.)
And he reassures you one time that you don't actually need to fear the Kansas Mothman because he accidentally started that legend. How? He really doesn't want to talk about it.
What with one thing and another, you start wondering…
Maybe he's a ghost.
Maybe something awful happened and he can't move on. You don't want to suspect the Kents, they are honestly pretty top-notch for parental types (especially after some of the ones you've known) but other people in the town? You know personally how ghastly a small town can be to That Weird Kid. Maybe something really bad happened.
(Maybe it could happen to you too.)
So you've got to figure out what's going on so you can get justice for your friend. You start to investigate. Smallville does have rather more than its fair share of Weird Shit—like possibly a lot more—but you're not really getting anywhere. And it occurs to you that you don't really have the wherewithal to go and try to find—well, let's not put too fine a point on it, to find an unmarked grave—that could be anywhere.
Meanwhile the world has at this point in time started to see some Seriously Weird Shit, although at this point it's largely In Other Places because that's where everything in the world happens, there is absolutely Nothing Significant In Kansas and probably never will be, but it gives you an idea. Slightly insane and scary idea, but you've hit so many dead ends that it might be worth it.
You're going to try to contact Superman and see if he can use his rumored X-ray vision to figure out what happened to Clark.
…
Just to be clear, I have no idea what the ultimate punchline is for this piece of ridiculous meandering is, and it's the sort of thing that does require a pretty good punchline. So I don't know if it's ever actually going to get written. On the other hand, it is one of my favorite dishes, which is Canon Characters Helping Queer Kid, with a heavy helping of Following Logic-like Structures To Wrong Conclusions sauce.
So I thought I might post the idea, because I have this lovely optimistic belief that sometimes, I am in fact extremely funny, and tumblr is a place that often eggs me on.
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