#sleeping on the way back from the city is nice

[comfort-questing]

drifting in and out of consciousness throughout a journey, blinking eyes open and shut to fragmented sights of familiar scenery, wincing at bumps in the road or starts and stops as they go. someone's steadying them, maybe, putting a guarding hand to hold them upright ahead of them on a horse or next to them in a wagon or car seat. sun glinting in their eyes, perhaps, or streetlamps flickering past, faint beyond their closed eyelids. almost home now.

[earlgraytay]

So, you've probably all seen this post going around, about how The Chuds Want Gentleman's Clubs (but can't afford to go to the things called "gentlemen's clubs" today, so wouldn't have been able to in the past either). And I hate to say it, but that post isn't accurate.

The things we call "gentlemen's clubs" today and the things that were called "gentleman's clubs" in the past are not the same thing; the one is descended from the other, but they used to be a lot more common and served a purpose that they don't really serve anymore.

The modern equivalent of the historical gentleman's club isn't the thing currently called a gentleman's club; it's the premium airport lounge. And by losing the concept for all but the turbo-rich, I think we genuinely have lost something! Let me explain.

(NOTA BENE: This is mostly about England and from about 1880-1930, and most of my experience with this is from fiction written in that era. I know enough to know what I don't know, but I also know menswear guy is wrong about this.)

So- gentlemen's clubs started in *wiggles hands* the late 1700s, and mostly served a particular purpose: they were places you could stay in a city if you mostly lived in the country, instead of staying in lodgings or owning your own place. Finding a place to stay in London was kind of a misery at the best of times, and owning your own house in Town wasn't practical for a lot of people, even rich people. If you were, say, a young man, just starting out in life, and you hadn't inherited your father's wealth but also weren't set up to live on your own? Having a place you were guaranteed to be able to stay was a fucking godsend. And as time went on, even people who lived in London most of the time started joining clubs, because they served another important purpose- they were a place you could go if you didn't particularly want to be at home, for whatever reason.

The way that historical gentlemen's clubs worked is, you got recommended to the club by a friend who was a member, you paid dues to the club, and in exchange, you'd get to use the club's facilities. * Most gentlemen's clubs had, at minimum, a dining room (with waitstaff, natch), a library, a couple of nice places to sit and hang out, a game room, and a bar. Many of them also had rooms you could sleep in overnight, fitness equipment, or stuff related to the club members' interests. Most of them had a room or two where you could invite friends who weren't part of your club and spend time with them. In the era where phones were a thing, a lot of them had a phone. You could write letters there and get your mail sent there.

Here's the thing: in the period I know best, gentlemen's clubs weren't just for the turbo-rich. They were the province of rich guys, yes- you had to be a 'gentleman' and know the right people to get in. But men who were doctor/lawyer/software-developer rich were most likely members of a gentlemen's club. Anyone who was rich enough to travel regularly was part of at least one club, because having somewhere to crash when you were going between (say) London and Delhi and back again was worth the cost.

Most gentlemen's clubs were owned by their members- not an outside corporate body. The club leaders were elected, usually by a small committee.

And a lot of gentlemen's clubs founded around specific interests, as time went on. There were gentlemen's clubs specifically for Guys Who Were Really Into Radio. There were clubs specifically for men who spent a lot of time traveling. There were clubs specifically for dudes who wanted to talk your ear off and clubs for old dudes who mostly wanted to nod off in their chairs and talk about The War and clubs for dudes who did not want to be percieved at all.

There were clubs for men who were really into science, or the arts, or sports. And one perk of being in a club like this is that you had access to equipment that you might not have been able to buy on your own. You didn't have to shell out for an entire library of scientific and medical books; you could go to your club and read in the library there. If your club had, say, an art studio, you could go paint at your club and not have to keep a studio space of your own.

There were gentlemen's clubs specifically oriented around specific political or social views. There were socialist clubs. (And a lot of them admitted women, which was !!!SCANDALOUS!!!) Like, they were still the province of goddamn rich people, there were a lot of trust fund baby socialists and not many working people, but there were socialist social clubs.

...I don't want to pretend that gentlemen's clubs were some kind of idyllic haven. 99% of these clubs were For Men, and For The Right Sort Of Men at that; if you didn't have a friend who was a member, or you weren't "respectable" enough, you didn't get to join. There's a reason that most of these clubs are gone now. Part of the point was excluding the Wrong Sort of People, and that became gauche over time. After a certain point, being part of a club became a thing for stodgy, out-of-touch rich men- not just "men who happened to have enough money to be part of a club"- and so most of the men who could join one didn't, and people stopped forming new ones. Only Old Money assholes (who will continue to do what they've always done, current trends be damned) keep the concept alive.

But like... the thing that replaced gentlemen's clubs for 99% of the people who would have had one a hundred years ago... is the premium airport lounge, and the premium gym membership, and the ~coworking hub~.** Anyone can join, yeah, as long as they're able to pay. You pay a corporation a chunk of money for similar amenities, and the amenities are ... fine? But because the entity is driven by profit, most of the money you're paying them goes into running their other business concerns and paying their CEOs a fat paycheck.

I think... as exclusionary as gentlemen's clubs were back in the day, there's the seed of a good idea there. I think the guys who wish they were still an attainable thing for a middle-class person have a point, and I wish we could inject some fucking nuance into this conversation.

A community-owned space that gives you a place to crash when you need one, has community-owned resources for its members, and isn't beholden to a corporation is a good thing. Third spaces that don't have to turn a profit are a damn good thing.

At the end of the day, my politics are 'everyone should get to have the kind of luxuries that were historically reserved for the rich'. Everyone should get to have the best life has to offer- leisure, beauty, good craftsmanship, and community. And so, you know, if this kind of community space sounds like a thing you'd like to have, maybe it's something you could work towards creating, too.

*TBF, this is still how they work today! But the networks are much smaller.

**I do find it very funny that apparently one of the biggest problems facing the few remaining Actual Gentlemen's Clubs (TM) is that people are trying to use their space to telework-- a lot of them are trying to ban laptops and business talk to "keep the club's character" (read: "we're too rich to have to work here").

[noxitsnox]

I can’t fall asleep without you

hyun-ju x gn!reader

summary: after disappearing for days, your girlfriend comes back home.

tags: angst, hurt/comfort, transphobia and police incompetence , like one curse word

a/n: studying is for weaks, real alpha men (me) write hyun-ju x readers instead. seriously tho, i fear this might be full of grammatical errors but i'm too tired to proof read and correct them ㅠㅠ

also she didn't win the game, it's as if she and everyone else managed to escape after ep. 7 ‼️‼️

today it was your four year anniversary.

or at least it should have been. it would have been if hyun-ju didn't just disappear into nothingness. you couldn't help but be angry. you saved up for months to afford taking her to a really nice restaurant in the centre, called to make a reservation at the beginning of the year. you would've never guessed that you'd spent this day without her.

when you woke up that morning, the morning she disappeared, you were surprised by hyun-ju not being on bed by yourside. usually she'd wake up with you and you two would have breakfast together before leaving for work. even if it was weird you didn't think anything of it. probably she just left earlier for work, she always tried to do some extra shifts when it was possible. you sent her a 'good morning' text and went on with your day.

when you checked your phone during lunch break hyun-ju had not replied your text yet. hell, she didn't even see it. anger, frustration, worry started to make their way all the way up to your mind. but you forced yourself to calm down and think logically. was it strange that she didn't answer? of course it was, but maybe she just didn't have lunch yet, or her phone was dead or she forgot it in the car. it was strange, sure, but not illegal. it didn't matter, because at the end of the day she'd come back home to you.

or so you thought.

that night she never came home. she didn't answer your texts, she didn't pick up your calls... with all the things you heard on the news, all that violence and hate that was slowly growing in the street you were afraid she was attacked. what if she was hurt? what if she needed you to be by her side?

so you called all the hospital of the cities asking for her. none of their patients had her name or fitted her description.

every possible scenario came into your mind. anxiety, panic, fear didn't allow you to think rationally. you wanted to just storm out of the house and go to the police station. but it was still too early to involve the police. you forced yourself to sleep, you would have reported her missing the next day after work.

for some reason, you really believed that the police would help you. why wouldn't they care about a missing person? you almost forgot hyun-ju and you weren't élite citizen, the ones the police cares about, the ones who deserved to be saved.

you went there stressed and afraid, with a trembling voice you told them that hyun-ju didn't come home in two days, that she's not answering the phone and that she never talked about wanting to just leave. holding your heart in your hands you told them your worries only to be met with laughter and judgement.

the policeman told you with a grin that it was useless to do anything, that she's probably just ran away with some rich old man, after all that's what these people do. he told you you were wrong for trusting one of them, to stop waisting time chasing after her and to start looking for a normal partner.

when you returned home you were furious.

hyun-ju, she wasn't that kind of person. they spoke ill of her without knowing anything. she didn't just leave. she couldn't have done it. if something was wrong in the relationship she would've just talked to you. why wouldn't she?

for the first time since all of this happened, you cried. you sat on the couch on the small living room and observed your surroundings. all of her things were still there, exactly where she left them. her black heels were still by the door from your night out nights ago, on the coffee table was the book she was reading with a bookmark towards the centre, her cardigan gently laying on the back of a chair at the dining table...

you spent the next days in misery. you called in sick at work and stared at the ceiling all day. holding the phone in his hand all the time, anxiously waiting for her name to pop up on the screen. Every time you got a message your hopes would rise, only to vanish completely when you saw your mother's name.

eventually a friend came to check on you. they asked how you were doing, you told them what happened, they said hyun-ju was a bitch, you got angry and screamed at them to leave the house.

after they left, you did felt bad about yelling. after all they were just trying to help you. and they did. you needed to take control back. laying on bed won't make hyun-ju come back.

you quickly sent them a message to apologize before hopping in the shower. you started tidying up the house, cleaning the kitchen and putting away the clothes in that black hole you call a closet. even cooked too much rice for dinner, after four years you weren't used to one person portions anymore.

looking in the mirror you said you were doing this for yourself, but in the back of your mind you knew who you were actually doing this for.

you didn't even notice how tired you were until you sat on the couch to clean up the coffee table. with the rag still in your hand you fell asleep.

you dreamed of summer, warm sun hitting your skin and wet hair. the orange color of the sun's rays reflected on the sea and on your faces. hyun-ju's hair were up in a ponytail, her white t-shirt stuck to her skin and a wide smile was printed on her face.

you remembered this day. it was your first summer together and you managed to rent a small apartment near the beach for a couple of days. you spent those days in your own world made of chattering and laughter.

a sudden noise disturbed the image that had been created, it was external to the dream.

you tried to ignore it but it only got louder and louder until you opened your eyes. with the typical confusion that comes when you've just woken up, it took you a while to realize that someone was knocking at the door.

you looked at the clock on the wall. it was barely 5 in the morning. you cursed under your breath as you walked toward the door. who the hell would knock on someone's door so early in the morning?

looking through the peephole a shiver ran down your spine.

was this still a dream or was it really her?

you opened the door energetically. hyun-ju was actually standing there in front of you. hair in a messy ponytail, she was wearing a green tracksuit stained with blood and dirt and white shoes. she looked shaken, as if she could have started crying at any moment.

you freezed in front of the door, unable to move or say anything. you didn't know what you were supposed to do, how to feel. part of you wanted to be mad, but how could you be mad at her when she looked like that?

you noticed that she was shaking, her arms wrapped around her body trying to gather as much heat as possible. she kept her gaze down, as if she were ashamed to be there, right in front of you.

"hyun-ju...", you finally talked. your voice was a whisper audible only to the two of you. you moved to let her pass through the door. "it's cold. come inside." she didn't say anything. the more you looked at her the more she looked like a ghost of herself.

neither of you sat down. you were standing in front of each other in silence. minutes that seemed like hours passed before she spoke. she told you she was gonna shower, change into clean clothes before leaving you alone in the living room.

when she got out of the bathroom she looked more like herself. she sat at the kitchen table and you put a cup of the tea you made while waiting in front of her before taking a seat next to her.

"y/n-" "where have you been?" you interrupted her, sounding harsher that intended. she shook her head, "it's not important right now... you wouldn't believe me anyway." "it's not important, hyun-ju? you're telling me it's not important, seriously-" this time she was the one who interrupted you, rising her voice to match yours. "y/n c'mon i just came back i don't feel like fighting."

you got up from the table, walked a few step away to calm down. part of you recognized that this wasn't the best way to have this conversation, but you couldn't hold back any longer, all the emotions that had accumulated in your heart these days took over.

"i can't believe you. you were gone! for days you disappeared from earth, you wouldn't even answer your phone and when came back your clothes were covered in blood!"

she sighed but didn't say anything so you continued.

"do you know how worried i was? i called very hospital, i even went to the police but you were nowhere to be found. i thought you were dead, hyun-ju... dead!" without realizing it you started crying.

there was silence before she spoke. "y/n i'm sorry, i'm really really sorry", she got up and walked closer to you, wrapping her arms around you. "i didn't think i'd be gone for this long. but i'm here now, i won't go anywhere." from her voice you could say she was crying too. "i'll tell you what happened, but tonight please let me just forget about it."

you broke the hug to look up in her eyes. "do you promise you'll tell me everything?" "i do, i promise."

[ghosty-writes-23]

Kneeling Before Her. - Leon S Kennedy.

Ghosty's Notes: okay so this was a random idea I had randomly thinking about Wife!FemReader + Older!Leon (Between Damnation & Vendetta.) also I wrote this on my phone which is something I don't normally do, but it's like 2am and I can't be stuffed grabbing my laptop, so please forgive me if their is alot of spelling mistakes.

Summary: Y/n and Leon had been fighting alot lately, but even with how much they where fighting it didn't stop them from desiring each other.

NSFW Tags: Smutty Content, Eating Out, Pleading, Body Worship, Desperate!Husband!Leon, Hope for the future, Happy Ending.

Used Pet Names: Darling, Sweetheart, Princess, Love, Good Boy, My Wife.

| ID!PROFESSOR!LEON COMING IN 2 DAYS |

!Unedited!

Word Count: 1.9k

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Thank you for all the support, it means alot❤️

-Ghosty :] ❤️🦝

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Y/n and Leon had been fighting alot recently, from small things such as dirty dishes in the sink to Y/n tripping over Leon's alcohol bottles and she had enough. Tonight was like any other night, Leon was coming home from a mission and smelt like a brewery, the pair had argued yet again, Y/n was upset Leon had come home drunk and Leon was trying to justify he wasn't that drunk yet he could barley walk a straight line, she had guested one of the staff from the bar had called him a taxi because there was no way in hell he would be able to drive in the state he was in.

Sometimes she felt as if Leon treated her as if she was dumb, she knew this wasn't what he really thought of her, but when he was drunk he would treat her as if she was an idiot and it was getting on her last nerve, there is only so much a person can take before they snap, as Leon passed out on the living room couch Y/n had thrown a blanket over him and left a bottle of water and Advil on the coffee table before going upstairs to what used to be their shared bedroom.

Leon mostly slept in the spare bedroom when he was home, it was strange feeling to feel alone in her own house even with Leon home. Shaking her head Y/n closed the door and started to get ready for bed, such as doing her nightly routine of showering, changing into comfortable pajamas, drying her hair and doing nightly skincare and brushing her teeth and taking the last of her medication for the day.

When she got into bed, she couldn't help but wonder how did her and Leon's relationship end up like this, she knew Leon had alot of trauma before they had met, he had warned her that he wasn't the most easiest person to get along with but that didn't stop Y/n, she didn't see Leon as the government agent or the weapon that most people seemed too, but just a man that had the worse timing most of the time but once he started to open up he was a complete sweetheart.

When they had gotten married Y/n and Leon had gotten married in 2006 she thought everything would be perfect, they would have a house maybe out of town, maybe a fixer upper they could do together as a couple project, like an old historical cottage that has a nice front yard where she could plant flowers, maybe have a dog or a cat.

Leon would have left the government and got a less dangerous job after he found out she was pregnant, everything was meant to fall into place, but sometimes promises are broken even by the people we love the most, this had lead Y/n to start wondering was Leon still the man she had fallen in love with and married all those years ago, or was that man gone and replaced with an drunk, anger hollow shell of his former self.

Shaking her head Y/n turned off her bedside table lamp and layed back in bed, all this thinking was hurting her brain so she decided to try and get some sleep, even if she had to force herself too.

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Later on in the night the small city apartment was quiet, the only sound was a ticking clock and the soft hum of the fridge, but upstairs their was a soft buzzing sound and muffled soft mews filtering from under the door. Y/n had her eyes closed as she worked the toy on it's medium setting, after forcing herself to sleep only to end up tossing and turning, she knew the perfect thing to put her to sleep.

It was the ultimate relaxer or so she thought, her bottom lip was between her teeth as her middle finger and ring finger where working her clit, her other hand was working the toy inside her quivering walls. She couldn't remember the last time she had to use her toy to get off, usually her fingers would work just fine but she knew her body was craving something or somebody else.

In her mind was replying the last time Leon had touched her, when her hands where gripping his pillow as her hand was buried in it, his hand was in her hair, tugging firmly but not to roughly as he thrusted into her from behind, he had come home from a stressful work day and needed to let off some steam and who was she to say no to her husband, with Leon's stamina they would at least go for 2 maybe 3 rounds.

But she was soon pulled out of her fantasy when she heard footsteps, she slowly turned off the toy before hearing a soft knock on the door. "Come in." Y/n spoke softly soon the door opened and Leon sheepishly walked in only wearing his briefs and no short, he looked more sober but their was still bags under his eyes. "Did I wake you?" Y/n asked causing Leon to shake his head as he closed the door behind himself.

"I'm so sorry sweetheart." Leon spoke as he started walking towards their old shared bed, Y/ was at a lost for words this was the first time he apologized for anything in the past few weeks, so she was a little surprised but before she could get any words out, Leon slowly lowered himself to his kneeled in front of her, his head down as if he couldn't make eye contact with her.

"I'm so sorry for being a shitty husband, I know I should have come to you, I just didn't want to burden you with my problems, I wanted to protect you from them, but instead I did the exact opposite." Leon says before he shakes his head before finally he looks up at her. "I know I don't deserve you Y/n or your forgiveness, but I will spend the rest of my life making it up to you." Leon says causing her heart to skip a beat.

"You really hurt me." Y/n started and Leon put his head down like a puppy that was in trouble, "I know princess." Leon says shamefully. "But I am willing to forgive you if you promise this behavior stops now okay, I want you to go to counseling and get help." Y/n says and Leon listens and nods his head. "I'll start looking in the morning." Leon says causing Y/n to smile ever so slightly and nod her head, maybe this wasn't the end of their marriage.

"Good." Y/n said and just as she was about to move over in the bed, Leon reached out to grab her wrist to stop her, but as he did she knew he felt her hand was wet, she saw his eyes widen slightly before he started to bring her hand to his lips. "Leo-." she tried to protest but soon his lips where around her fingers.

the warm and soft feeling of Leon's mouth on her fingers caused her to gasps softly, their was something so erotic about a man on his knees lapping and sucking his wife's juice's off her fingers, especially a man that hasn't tasted her in months. she watched Leon her thighs clenching together as his tongue gently gliding between her fingers.

But soon Leon let her finger's go with a soft pop, a string of his saliva was between her now drool covered fingers and his lips, he looked up at her she could see the desperation and the lust in his eyes, because her were probley mirroring the same look ad if she was honest she was too pent up to let this moment slip through her fingers.

"Can I have more." Leon asked his voice was more husky but still had a slightly desperateness to it. "Will you be a good boy?" Y/n asked with a small tease in her voice but Leon nodded his head quickly, instead of getting up onto the bed so he could be comfortable, Leon was still kneeling on the ground but moved her so she was sideways on the bed but her ass was on the edge of the bed.

Leon started peppering kisses down her ankle, to her legs and then to her thighs, her body was starting to warm up, her thighs clenching with every soft press of his lips, she was nearly about to put him in a headlock between her thighs. When he finally got the edge of her panties that she knew where soaked, she let out a little mew as she could feel his warm breath against her.

"Please can I taste you now sweetheart." Leon softly pleaded as he looked up at her, she knew he was pulling the puppy dog eyes but even with the bags under his blue eyes and the stubble on his face that she knew would be scratching against her inner thigh. Y/n nodded her head again biting her lips.

She could see a small smile come onto Leon's face, as his index finger hooked into the side of her panties, he then lent in and placed a gentle kiss on her aching clit and quivering folds causing a soft moan to leave her lips and her fingers to go into his dark hair. She heard Leon groan softly as he started to lick and suckle as if he was savoring every moment of this.

His name falling off her lips in sweet moans and mews, the sound filled the bedroom as she gently gripped his hair, this was what she had missed the most between their fighting, she missed the intimacy between them, the love, affection, desire, want and need for each other what they can only get for each other, it almost made tears spring to her eyes.

Looking down Y/n saw Leon's face was buried between her holds, his eyes closed as he feasted on her like a starved man, she knew she wasn't going to last long as she already felt the familiar knot forming in her stomach. "It's okay, darling you can come for me." Leon grunted against her flesh, his stubble starching against her inner thighs.

With Leon's permission she came on his tongue with a high pithed cry of his name, her back slightly arching off the bed as her thighs trembled around his head, Leon helped her ride out her orgasm before he pulled away after placing a gentle and loving kiss on her folds, his face was coated in her slick but their was a small blush on his cheeks and the tips of his ears, there was a slightly glazed over look in his eyes.

But when she looked down, saw that Leon's cock was straining through his brief's he shook his head before slowly standing up. "Tonight was about you, I'll do deal with this." Leon spoke causing her to pout slightly but she nodded his head, he gave her a soft kiss on the forehead before he headed to the bathroom that was connected to their bedroom.

Maybe this was the start of the new beginning, maybe their was hope for their relationship, Y/n could only hope and pray but this was a good start and it could only get better for here....

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©Ghosty-writes-23, 2025. all rights reserved. !I DO NOT! consent to translations or replications or reproduction of my work on any other social media platforms and or make AI Bots without my explict consent and permission.

[punkrockmlchael]

Congrats on 100, babe!! I’d love to request Gareth x fem!reader with prompt #40!! ❤️‍🔥

Masterlist for 100 Follower Celebration!

18+ mdni, Smut: Unprotected PinV, Riding Gareth, Creampie (Both Gareth and Reader are in their early 20s)

Thank you so so much for reading my work and for requesting! I hope you enjoy hehe. This quickly became longer than anticipated but oh well... (Word Count: 1681)

Prompt: Camping ; Gareth Emerson x Fem!Reader

"I hate camping," Gareth complained as you finished setting up the tent. You pounded the stake into the ground, ensuring the tent was sitting up perfectly and would not move despite anything coming its way. "Did I mention that I hate camping?" He asked, crossing his arm over his chest as he stood behind you and supervised, as he called it.

"Mm," you hummed, standing up. "You may have mentioned it once or twice in the last, oh, I don't know, five minutes." You muttered, unzipping the tent. You set up the blankets, sleeping bags and pillows inside the small space, looking back at Gareth as he continued to pout with his arms crossed.

"So, then, why are we camping?" He asked, looking at you.

"Because, I thought it would be fun?" You replied back, standing up. You walked towards your boyfriend and smiled, wrapping your arms around his waist gently. "And because I wanted to snuggle up next to you under the stars by the fire in the woods." 

He grunted in response, moving his arms down to your hips gently. He held your hips softly, looking down at you. "Why couldn't we just snuggle together in our own bed at home?" 

"Because, what’s the fun in that?” You asked, giggling softly. “You don’t want to roast marshmallows, make some s’mores, cuddle up next to each other in the tent and who knows… have some fun later?” You added, wiggling your eyebrows at him. 

“Have some fun, how?” He questioned, raising an eyebrow at your wiggling eyebrows. “There’s literally nothing fun about camping. There’s dirt, there’s bugs, it gets cold at night, there’s never anywhere to use the bathroom.” Gareth rambled on complaint after complaint. 

You sighed in frustration, groaning at how oblivious your boyfriend was, and at how he didn’t seem to want to have fun with you. 

“Give me one night?” You pleaded, placing a gentle kiss on his lips before muttering softly. “Give me tonight, if you’re still hating camping tomorrow we can go home early.”

“Really?” He asked, trying to hide the smile on his face. 

“Really,” you replied, nodding. “But you have to promise to at least try to have fun.” You pulled away from the kiss and grabbed your backpacks, placing them inside the tent in the corner. 

“I promise,” he mumbled, watching you. “Do you need any help?”

You shook your head, looking back at him. “Not unless you know how to start a fire.”

“Gasoline and matches.” 

You snorted a laugh, “I suppose you are correct in that sense. But, just be careful.” You said, watching Gareth move to try and start a fire. He threw some wood in the small fire pit, arranging it perfectly before he soaked the wood with some gasoline. He lit a match carefully and threw it on the soaked wood, watching the flames rise up quickly before dying down into a soft lull. "How did you do that?" You asked, watching the fire before turning your attention to Gareth.

"Well, I was a Boy Scout," he said with a chuckle.

"Really? You were a Boy Scout and you hate camping?" 

"I don't enjoy sleeping in a tent when I could be in my bed all nice and warm."

You rolled your eyes, shaking your head as you grabbed the hotdogs out of the cooler to cook them over the fire. "Gareth, don't you enjoy seeing nature? Spending time outside while observing your surroundings? Getting away from the big city to just take a deep breath and enjoy your time?" You asked, moving towards the fire to cook dinner for the two of you.

"Not really, no." He shook his head, watching you. "Don't get me wrong, baby. I enjoy seeing nature with you, I enjoy spending time with you away from the big city but... why couldn't we just go to the beach or something and sleep in a hotel room with a bed?" He asked, taking a seat next to you in the folding lawn chair he had set up earlier before the tent. 

You looked at him, rotating the hotdogs on the fire. "Because, I like camping. I like spending time with you and I wanted to get away from everything for a bit. If you hate camping that much next time we can just go to the beach." You pointed toward the bag of hotdog buns on the cooler and Gareth reached for them, opening the bag. He grabbed out some hotdog buns and opened them, holding them towards you.

"I just, I never really camped other than with my Boy Scout troop and it just wasn't fun." He said, nodding as you put the hotdogs in the buns. "A bunch of nerds and losers running around making things out of sticks and getting stupid badges." 

"It'll be different with me," you replied, taking one of the hotdogs from his hand. "I promise." You smiled, looking at him.

"I believe you," Gareth said softly, taking a bite of his hotdog. 

"Do you?" 

He nodded, wrapping his arm around your shoulder as he pulled you closer to him.

-

Around one in the morning Gareth woke up freezing. He groaned and moved closer to you, trying to get some of your body heat or some more heat from the blankets. He shivered again, wrapping his arms around your waist. "Baby," he mumbled into your ear, causing you to stir and wake up slightly.

"Hm?" You asked, rolling over so you were facing him. You looked up at him and smiled tiredly, kissing his lips gently. 

"Are you not, like, freezing to death?" He mumbled against your lips before he kissed you back. You hummed into the kiss and shrugged.

"Not really," you replied, pulling away from the kiss. "Why? Are you?"

"Fuck, yeah, it's so cold." He replied, shivering slightly.

"Need me to warm you up?" You asked, kissing his neck gently.

"Please," he mumbled, closing his eyes as you continued to kiss up and down his neck. 

You readjusted yourself under the blanket, moving so that you were now on top of him. You left another soft kiss on his lips as you moved your hips against his slightly. A groan escaped Gareth's lips as his hands moved to your waist, holding you tightly.

"Fuck, baby girl," he groaned. "Is this your plan to warm me up? Get me all hot and bothered?" You shrugged, rubbing against the growing bulge in his pants. 

"Best way to warm you up is to have some fun, you know?" You asked, moving to slide your pants and panties off quickly. "Unless, you don't want to?" 

He shook his head quickly, watching you tug his sweatpants and boxers down just enough to let his rock hard erection spring free. "Oh, no, no; I want to." He said, wincing as the cold air hit his cock.

"Perfect," you muttered, moving overtop of him again. You sunk down onto his cock slowly, groaning at the feeling. You repositioned the blanket over your shoulders and leaned down, kissing his lips as you rocked your hips against his. Your hands rested on his chest over the soft fabric of his hoodie. 

Gareth moaned against your lips, his hands moving back to your waist as he held you tightly. “Mm, fuck,” he groaned, thrusting up into you as you continued to move and bounce on his cock slowly and teasingly.

You moved to place kisses on his jawline and back to his neck, nibbling on it gently. He moaned your name softly, head falling back against the pillow in the small tent. He looked up at you, seeing you through the dim moonlight that was peeking through the tent. Gareth’s hands moved up from your hips to your chest, squeezing your breasts through the heavy sweatshirt you had on still.

“Fuck,” he moaned, thrusting up into you again. “God, baby, if this is what camping with you is like… maybe I should reconsider how much I hate it. Because this?” He groaned as you bit on his neck a little harder. “This is definitely something I love.” 

“Mhm,” you moaned as he squeezed your breasts harder. “What did you think I meant when I said we could have some fun?” 

“I don’t know, star gazing?” He replied, moving his right hand down to where your bodies were connected. He found your clit and began rubbing tight circles on it as he thrusted up into you.

You moaned his name, shaking your head as you moved to kiss his lips again. “Fuck that,” you mumbled against his lips. “I’d rather just do you inside a tent.”

He groaned, kissing your lips roughly. He bit your bottom lip and snuck his tongue into your mouth as you stopped your movements, sinking down onto him fully before just grinding your hips against his. He groaned into your mouth, rubbing circles on your clit faster as he bucked his hips up again.

“Fuck, Gareth,” you whined, pulling away from the kiss. “I’m gonna cum,” you groaned, rocking your hips more.

“Yeah, pretty girl?” He asked, looking up at you. “Cum for me, cum on my cock,” he said softly, squeezing one of your breasts in his left hand. You moaned his name loudly, clenching around him before you released around him. 

Gareth groaned, moving his hands to your hips again. He gripped them tightly and helped you move on his cock again. “Gareth,” you mumbled, moving your hands to his shoulders for support. You groaned, squeezing his shoulders gently.

“Fuck, baby, I’m gonna cum,” he moaned softly, thrusing up one more time as he whined, cumming deep inside of you. You moaned again, falling back down onto him as you leaned down, placing some soft kisses on his cheeks. 

He smiled a little, his arms wrapping around your back. He hummed, leaving a soft kiss on your head as you snuggled into his neck. “Still hate camping?” You asked softly.

He shook his head, chuckling. “No, not if this is what we get to do at night.”

gareth tag list: wanna be added? comment + let me know! @keeryhours ; @darkyuffie-blog ; @luveediary ; @the-witty-pen-name ; @bastardstevie ; @pupwrites ; @swiftieintheupsidedown ; @hawkinsmafia

[deconstructthesoup]

Okay, well, I shouldn't have made myself think about Fig and Fabian's little sister, because now I have a whole fucking concept for her and her adventuring party in her Aguefort years, complete with Sandra Lynn and Jawbone fankids.

So... say hello to the Hellraisers, named for the fact that they had to perform an exorcism on their first day:

Faroe Lomenelda Faeth (she/her): The party wildcard and ultimate pastel goth, Faroe looked up to both of her older siblings from the get-go, even if her big brother insisted that they were archrivals sworn to destroy each other (it became more and more of an inside joke as she grew older). Taking a page out of both of their books, she became a bard---specifically, a College of Spirits bard, because she always loved the spooky stories about ghost ships and drowned sailors---but she also took a page out of Cathilda's book and became a Swashbuckler rogue, which really just meant that she could spar with Fabian and Fig whenever she wanted. Even though she never met Bill Seacaster, growing up in a converted pirate ship definitely gave her a love for the pirate aesthetic... though, she has absolutely inherited her dad's love of yogurt. Just mango-strawberry with fruit chunks instead of lemon. Hey, it just means that she can sleep in and eat a yogurt cup for breakfast on the way to school.

Parker O'Shaughnessy (he/they): One half of the Hellraiser's werewolf twins, Parker definitely inherited his dad and big sister's wild, grunge-meets-crust-punk energy. So much so, in fact, that he wound up becoming a Path of the Beast barbarian, fully embracing his wolf side and becoming almost as much of a wildcard as Faroe is. In fact, they're actually Faroe's best friend, and while they only sort of consider each other semi-siblings due to both being Fig's younger siblings, Parker and Faroe are definitely the revival of the Kristen-and-Fig chaos of the old days. Also, Parker is the drummer in Faroe's band, the Go-Ghosts. She's the lead singer and guitarist.

Luna O'Shaughnessy (she/they): The other half of the werewolf twins, Luna was much closer to her adopted sister and her cousin growing up, and she developed a deep fascination with the wonders and mysteries of magic. So much so, in fact, that she ended up not only dedicated herself to a god of magic, becoming an Arcana Domain cleric, but she also learned the secrets of wizardry, becoming a School of Conjuration wizard. And yes, this multiclass means that they're the backbone of the Hellraisers, in both healing abilities and crazy spell shenanigans. Everyone's a tiny bit scared of them, which they don't understand---from their perspective, they're just an awkward nerd who's passionate about their interests. Luna also plays the keyboard in the Go-Ghosts, inspired by years of tinkering around on the piano in Mordred Manor.

Marsh Runecarver (he/him): Marsh is from a Goliath family, but having an Archfey warlock for a dad has resulted in him being a Hexblood. He started school about a year later than normal due to his fey nature manifesting at an early age, so he's a bit older than the rest of the party---and definitely wiser. Marsh is a Circle of the City druid, and he's got a kind of laid-back, solarpunk vibe to him, which definitely lends well to him kind of being the unofficial older brother of the Hellraisers. Funnily enough, Marsh is also popular, in the sense that he's really nice to everyone, remembers everyone's name, and gets along with people really easily. He's also a fantastic bass player.

Arko Spitz (they/them): The party’s resident “little guy,” Arko is a goblin and a Battlesmith artificer, who uses their skills with tech and robotics for... well, a number of things. For one, they're a theater techie who started out manning a spotlight and quickly graduated to running and programming the lighting board, and they've also designed some special effects. For two, Arko's inventions have proven invaluable, either in combat or when there needs to be spying done. And for three... they have a well-earned reputation as the greatest prankster that Aguefort Adventuring Academy has ever seen. They don't even have the wild "class clown" energy, they just like to make robots and do crazy things with them to see if they can. The academy waits in anticipation and dread whenever the word "hypothesis" comes out of Arko's mouth.

Roshini Gupta (she/her): Captain of the cheer squad and high-femme lesbian icon, Roshini is a fire genasi and the Hellraiser's third multiclass---well, she's mostly a Sun Soul monk, but she's also got a few levels of Genie warlock in there (and yes, her patron is her parent). She's well aware that she's the only prep in a party full of alternative oddballs, but she doesn't mind at all, and she's always very supportive of everything her party members get up to. Like, Roshini will attend every Go-Ghost gig, pick out supplies for every hare-brained scheme that Parker and Arko are planning, help organize every Green Team event with Marsh, and so. Much. More. Roshini believes in bringing the cheerleader spirit to everything she does, so much so that the Hellraisers have joked that she should take a level of paladin.

Aaaaaand... that's it!

(Picrews here in case anybody wants to draw these goobers)

[front-facing-pokemon]

[moinsbienquekaworu]

Also. The weird girl in school feeling of both intense jealousy and violent repulsion towards "normal" girls.

[mocacheezy]

*unknown number calling* *picks up*

Man who should try out for role of Blurr Transformers: *sharp inhale* "Yes hello miss I am calling to schedule a time for a maintenance visit for HouseAddress as we were contacted by Landlady regarding the date for the maintainance or replacement of gas counters at the location however despite the green go light by the landlady to simply head inside the garage and do the work I would've preferred you be present for the fixing so if you would be so kind as to tell me when you have the time what hour would suit you best it can be anytime anytime at all or we can schedule afterwards, so yes, yes simply say when?"

Me:

[amaranthinespirit]

cowboy!simon riley and city girl!reader when your car breaks down on the side of the road in the countryside

you weren't from around here, it was obvious in the way you dressed, and acted. hell, even the car you drove just screamed that you were from the city.

though if that didn't give it away, maybe it was the fact that your tiny little car was now parked—broken down—on the side of the road. a hand on your hip and the other wiping the sweat from your forehead as the blistering sun beat down on you.

you were convinced you were royally fucked—that you would be stuck to a night in your car. there wasn't any service, and there sure as hell wasn't anyone around.

at least that's what you thought until a massive, dirtied truck pulled off the road in front of your car. you swallowed a knot in the back of your throat that only travelled down to your stomach as you watched a tall, intimidating guy step out from the battered vehicle. his boots kicked against the road, scraping the tiny, loose rocks on the asphalt.

a cowboy hat hung low on his head, a fully black bandana tied around his face that covered his nose and lips, leaving only his dark, daunting eyes to sear into yours. his thumb hooked through the denim belt loop of his jeans, his other arm swaying by his side as he walked to the front of your car, which looked pathetically small next to his.

a quick look under the hood told him all he needed to know—with you and the car. he saw the way your eyes seemed to linger on his exposed arms after he had rolled up his sleeves. the dirt smudges along his skin, the dark ink of his tattoo and the veins that strained as he tinkered through the different parts of your car.

he claimed that he could fix it tomorrow—he didn't have the tools with him! he claimed, but really, they were lying in the bed of his truck, but he didn't want to let such a pretty little thing like you go so quickly. he wanted to have a bit of fun first!

so he offered you a nice stay at his little farmhouse, with the promise of warm food and a comfortable bed to sleep on, and who were you to resist? it was either that, or sleep in the backseat of your car—and you knew which one you would've preferred.

"fuck, such a pretty little thing, ain't ya?" he praises with a beer in one hand, the other veined hand wrapped up in your silky hair, helping your body in pulling back into his cock. the couch creaked and rocked under the consistent shifting weight as he pistoned his hips forward.

the rocking of his hips was restrained in order to not spill his beer—otherwise he would've loved to completely wreck you on his meaty cock.

"gon' hafta keep ya around, ain't tha' right?" he grunted before taking a swift sip from the bottle.

when the beer got to the end of the bottle and he set the glass down, you were in trouble. with a swift movement, he had pulled out enough so only the angry tip of his cock teased your hole, slick with your arousal before driving his bulbous dick back into your sensitive pussy.

his hips pounded against your ass, turning your flesh red as the sound of skin slapping together carried through the house. his balls slapping against your glistening pussy with every slamming thrust, the sensation making your eyes roll back. he was determined to make a mess of you—more so than he already did.

his fist clenched harder around your hair as the other went to your shoulder, a bruising grip against your flesh. he growled at the mindless moans spilling from your lips, only making him even more driven to fuck you brainless.

and don't worry, he will.

[nereidprinc3ss]

you know the killer doesn't understand

in which spencer is so terrified he's going to hurt you after he gets out of prison that he can barely touch you. an argument ensues.

angst (+ comfort) warnings/tags: established relationship, fem!reader, mentions of violent intrusive thoughts (non-specific), arguing, yelling, use of the word rape, nightmares, happyish ending, mention of showering together, it's a bad time but it's also a good time for us woo i love angsty angst a/n: i miss posting for real so bad i dug up this draft which was mostly finished and polished it up. i think i really like this one and it was based on a request but i lost it:( i hope u guys enjoy this, pls lmk<3

Spencer is by no means happy with his sudden fear of touching you—it makes everything in his life significantly harder and less convenient and he hates that he’s constantly afraid he’s going to break you. He hates watching you hold back from attacking him with a hug when he enters a room like you used to, and he feels terrible every time you ball up on the opposite side of the couch as he reads, waiting for an invitation into his lap but too scared to ask for one (he’ll always hold out his arm for you, though—he’s not cruel.)

You’re adorable in the way you stand at the foot of the bed in your pajamas, arms behind your back like it’s not your bed too, but it makes him feel terrible. This isn’t at all what he wanted for you, and in all honestly he’s thought about ending the relationship because he knows he’s being an absolutely awful partner—but he just can’t bring himself to. Instead, he gestures for you to get into bed, and you curl up under the covers close to him but not against him, and he’ll play with your hair and read for a while because he can’t sleep very well. Eventually he’ll assume the position of sleep, but some sick part of him doesn’t know what to do with the sounds of the city and the fan instead of the sounds of a hundred men rolling and sniffing and shuffling around their echoey cells. He doesn’t understand warmth anymore, or softness, or nice pajamas or fluffy pillows. He’s starting to think he doesn’t understand you. And that’s the worst thought of all. 

So he essentially dozes for the first week, on and off, always exhausted in the mornings but what’s new. When he can’t sleep, he turns his head to watch you breathe—some beautiful, sweet creature dreaming in his bed, unwaveringly loyal to him even though he can hardly stand to touch you for fuck’s sake. You’re beautiful, and it makes him feel better to watch you, even if he can’t touch you. Not now that he knows what he is capable of doing to another person. What if he has some sort of PTSD—PTSS, thank you, Luke Alvez—induced dream and does something terrible to you in his sleep? It’s not like you’re tiny, but he’s stronger, he knows he is, and lately every time you get too close he remembers exactly what it feels like to exert the full force of that strength, and what it feels like when someone else unleashes their own onto him. 

They’re just intrusive thoughts, and in them he doesn’t hurt you intentionally, but he always feels a little bit sick now. He is so, so sick. A bull in a China shop. Spencer knows exactly how breakable humans are—it’s his job to know. If he left so much as one red mark on you by accident, he’s quite sure he’d drill down to a previously unknown rock bottom. And if he reaches that point, he doesn’t know if he’d ever deserve to come back. 

Every day it seems to become clearer that the only humane thing to do is break up with you. But for now he’ll watch you sleep—the delicate rising and falling of your chest, the way you curl in on yourself because you can’t curl into him. In sleep you look so peaceful and content. You never look that way awake, anymore. Not when he’s around, which is pretty much always. At least he can’t disappoint you while you’re asleep. 

Or so he’d like to think. 

Until one night, about a week and a half after he gets home; you whimper in your sleep. It’s so quiet he could’ve missed it, but he doesn’t, and then he watches your smooth brow furrow with worry and he knows you’re having a nightmare immediately. 

Spencer panics—before, he would have woken you up and held you and comforted you until you fell back asleep and it would have been so simple. Now he’s frozen, afraid to touch you but not sure if he can just lie there watching you so afraid and not do a thing about it. 

In the end, you choose for him—and it only takes a few moments. You’re close enough to him that it’s easy for you to close the few inches even in sleep, and maybe you’re slightly conscious but not enough to remember you’re not supposed to touch him. 

He stops breathing as you fold yourself against him, muttering worried nonsense—he catches his name, once—nestling against his chest, one searching arm gently draping over his waist. Every muscle in his body is rigid, and his thoughts—his mind goes… completely fucking blank. 

Suddenly, all he’s known, all he’s ever known, is the smell of your hair, the warmth of you seeping through layers of clothing, and the weight of your arm over him. Everything he ever was ceases to exist, and he’s just this, right now. The person you’d turned to unconsciously for comfort, so sure, so trusting that he would keep you safe. He can feel your breath for the first time in months. Slowly every tense muscle unspools. For the first time in a long time he doesn’t feel dangerous. He doesn’t feel like his entire body is spring loaded and ready to attack at the slightest provocation. Spencer allows himself to hold you, and part of it feels like betrayal because he knows how badly you need this from him while you’re awake but mostly he feels like he could cry. His thumb rubs circles into the middle of your back and your head tucks so perfectly under his chin while he studies the rumpled sheets where you’d been lying a moment ago. He almost feels like sticking his tongue out to gloat at your half of the mattress—haha, look who gets to hold her now—but instead he sighs, shakily, and squeezes his eyes shut. 

You don’t make another sound for hours. 

He’s reluctant to let you go when you begin to stir around six AM, but forcibly holding onto you is so far from what he wants to do that he manages. You roll back over to your own side of the bed, and he continues admiring you from afar until he falls asleep. It’s the best three hours of sleep he’s had in a very long time. 

Of course, you don’t remember it. When you wake up your sadness resumes, and so does the pretending like you’re not sad, but you’re a very good sport—and it helps that he’s feeling much better this morning than he has since he got back. 

“Good morning,” you whisper faintly, still blinking as you watch him longingly from your spot. 

Spencer pushes himself up onto an elbow, and you watch with big eyes as he leans over you, stroking your cheek with his free hand. 

“Good morning. You sleep okay?”

Your brow flickers, and he realizes it’s not a question he asks every morning, and you’re probably distracted by this overt display of affection, but you answer it obediently anyway. 

“I think so. I had weird dreams.”

He hums. 

“About what?”

It’s quiet for a moment as he takes in the exact spattering of microscopically fractured pigment over your irises. Your voice is small when you finally speak. 

“Do I have to tell you?”

That hurts. 

“No. But it might help.”

Coming from him? Ironic doesn’t even begin to cover it. 

You acknowledge him with a small hum of your own, studying him with soft, mistrustful eyes. 

He can’t help it anymore—Spencer leans down and gently kisses you, so tenderly, so chastely, it makes his own head spin. He hasn’t kissed you like that since you picked him up from Milburn. It’s long overdue. 

Which is why he’s not expecting you to start crying. He pulls back immediately, not far, just enough to assess your expression. 

“What’s this? What’s wrong, angel?” He frowns. Your lip quivers in a way that feels like a blow to the chest. 

“That’s not… you’re…”

“What? What is it?”

A fat tear finally traces a path down your cheek and when you speak your voice breaks in the most fragile, devastating way. 

“You’re not being fair.”

He has no neat question to summarize all the bafflement your accusation inspires in his lately cloudy head, but the wildly confused look on his face must be prompt enough.

“I’m trying really hard to respect your space and boundaries and not upset you but my feelings are hurt, Spencer, I don’t know how they couldn’t be. I feel like you don’t even like me anymore. I’m embarrassed around you because I feel like I care about you so much more than you care about me. And then you—and then you wake up one morning and you think it’s okay to act like you love me again but I can’t—I c—” you stop, obviously frustrated—now crying in earnest and lacking the words. “You can’t be mean to me. I know you’ve been through a lot and I’m sorry but you can’t treat me like that. I’m a person, too.”

His chest aches and he swallows down barbed wire.

“I’m not acting like I love you. I do love you. More than I’ve ever loved anyone or anything in my life. That’s not an act.”

It’s not an adequate response, but your words are still spinning in his head until he can’t keep up with them. He’s not used to this, anymore. The language you two had developed is so foreign now. 

Maybe he just doesn’t know how to talk to you. 

Resignation—a too-calm recognition softens the stormy look that has brewed on your face. As soon as it’s gone, and you’re looking at him placidly, he realizes he’s afraid. 

“Well, that’s not enough,” you whisper. 

Spencer feels like he’s been shot as you push the covers aside and slip out of bed. And he knows what that feels like. 

“Where are you going?” And then louder, when you don’t hear him because you’ve already left the room, “Where are you going?”

He follows you through the apartment as you march purposefully for the door, slipping shoes on and grabbing your keys and coat. 

You barely look over your shoulder as you leave, slamming the front door behind you. Things shake from the impact. A mini earthquake. 

Spencer is too stunned to follow you. 

It’s not until a few minutes later when he goes to call you that he realizes your phone is still sitting on your bedside table. He stares at it, tasting metal, because he has absolutely no way to reach you or guarantee your safety. There’s no way for you to call him, or anyone, if you get in trouble—and he fears that you’ll retaliate against him by doing something stupid and dangerous. 

He only just manages to stop himself from calling the police and asking them to start looking for you. Only just recognizes it to be an overreaction. 

Besides, he’s not feeling particularly fond of the criminal justice institution these days. If it came down to it, he’d trust himself and his team over the cops any day.

The team. They’re always a resource. If worst comes to worst, he thinks, robotically making coffee as he tries to talk himself down, and she doesn’t come home before dark, I’ll call all of her closest friends. If she doesn’t come home before the morning—the thought makes him feel sick—I’ll deploy every fucking resource at my disposal. 

Maybe that’s an overreaction, too, but he has to find a way to self-soothe somehow. Planning makes him feel better. Being prepared for the things you never see coming makes him feel better. It’s impossible, of course—but the illusion of control is stubborn and so seductive. 

Thankfully, it doesn’t come to that. 

At around 2 PM, he receives a couple of texts from Garcia that are a massive relief. 

Penelope: She’s at my apartment

Penelope: BE NICER TO YOUR GIRLFRIEND!!!!!!!

The series of emojis that follow (including an octopus?), he doesn’t even try to decipher. He simply drops his phone and sighs deeply into his hands, releasing an extreme amount of paranoid tension that had been tying him into knots. Lately, he’s had this sense that everything is fleeting—that the things he takes for granted are painfully, violently impermanent. It doesn’t take anyone with a degree to figure out why he’s been feeling that way, but it’s so all-consuming he’s not sure how to cope with it. Just a few days ago, he’d been wondering how to break up with you. Now he’s asking himself how the fuck he thought he’d be able to do that when he’s barely functioning after a few hours without you.

It’s a question he still hasn’t answered by the time the front door opens at 10 PM. It’s clear by the deer-in-headlights look on your face that you hadn’t been expecting him like this—leaning over the counter, half-empty mug by his hand, staring at nothing in particular and waiting for you to come home. Neither of you have changed clothing since this morning—not that you could—but you look apprehensive as you close it behind you, never facing away from him. The whole thing is like a teenager being caught sneaking back in by a weary parent. 

For a moment the silent confrontation stretches into the horizon, a non-specific point as neither of you seem inclined to be the first to talk. You just watch him watching you—leaning against the door rigidly as if you can’t get far enough away. But he’s too tired for this. Too worn out. 

“How’d you get home?”

You swallow. 

“Penelope.”

Spencer nods slowly, rolling his bottom lip between teeth and finally looking away. 

“You really should have brought your phone.”

You scoff, peeling yourself from the door. 

“Of course that’s what you’re worried about.”

It’s the same situation as this morning, but in reverse—him following after you down the hall as you storm toward the bedroom. 

“Wh—should I not have been? You scared me—” he says your name, barely catching the door before it can slam in his face. “I was worried about you.”

“Why?” you face him, laughing bewilderedly as if the situation were at all funny. A kind of manic energy crackles from the surface of your skin and in your eyes that renders him unable to think of a reply. “Because you thought I would get raped and murdered and then you’d be sad?”

“Yes!” Spencer yells, eyes widening as he fails to contain his frustration any longer. “That is fucking exactly why I was scared!”

You step forward, getting in his space. It jars him, momentarily—he wants to get away from you. Being angry and so close to you is terrifying. What if he lashes out? What if he hurts you? He’s seen crimes of passion. His blood is freezing in his veins. 

“Of course you didn’t give one single fuck that I left you. You didn’t think for one fucking second that I might be tired of this. That wasn’t what you were scared of at all.” For every inch you near, he backs away. Another scorned, bitter laugh from you that feels like poison coursing through his entire circulatory system. You notice everything, eyeing him up and down as he cowers from you. “What is this, Spencer? If you hate being near me that much, just fucking break up with me.”

You’re close enough that he can see the tears welling in your eyes, but he’d know they were there even if he couldn’t observe them. He would hear it in your voice. He would feel it. But he can’t do anything about it. Right now, he’s paralyzed. 

“If the only thing holding you back is wanting to spare my feelings, just fucking do it. This isn’t better. I don’t give a fuck if it’s hard for you. It’s hard for me, too, but I’m not just going to ignore it anymore.”

There’s no more room. The wall is at is back. 

“Honey, please back up,” Spencer breathes. Last time his back was to a wall, he’d been gagged and beaten. Don’t lash out. She never hurt you. It wasn’t her. 

“Don’t tell me what to do!” you shout, as tears begin to spill over your cheeks. “Either break up with me or stop telling me to go away!”

At that moment, as you break down and your words become muddled with sobs, you raise your fist. 

Spencer watches it approach his shoulder as if in slow-motion. 

On instinct, he catches your wrist.

There’s a lull as he waits for something to explode, for something to go terribly, deeply wrong—

But it doesn’t. 

He realizes his grip is gentle. He realizes you’d never actually hurt him like that. He realizes how little resistance he’d found when he stopped what was sure to be nothing more than a petulant, petty bump against his shoulder—a maneuver that wouldn’t have hurt in the slightest. It was nothing more than a desolate, childlike display of feelings bigger than you know what to do with. 

In the second that it takes him to realize all of this, to realize he is not endangering you in the slightest, nor you him, you’ve begun to truly sob. Standing just inches from him, head angled down as he holds your wrist carefully, you are the picture of a girl who has been running on empty for a very long time and has nothing left to give. Spencer twines his arms around you, tucking your head under his chin and slowly rubbing your back like he’d never forgotten how to hold you. It stuns you, and the tears pause for just a second—before you’re wrapping desperate, weakened arms around him and sobbing even harder, albeit silently, into his shirt. 

“I don’t want to break up,” he whispers, his own voice shaky with understated emotion. “I’m sorry. Please don’t say that. I don’t want that.”

“What’s wrong with you?” You cry, a desperate plead caught between sobs that wrack your body against his against the wall. And he knows it’s not an accusation. It’s not an insult. It’s a question borne of confusion and fear. It’s what a child might ask a sick dog while tears stream down feverish cheeks. And it’s completely appropriate, considering he never tells you anything anymore and he’s only just realizing how scary that must be. Spencer is back from prison but you may as well still be living alone for all that you know about him. He tangles a hand in your hair and holds you against his chest, breathing you like nitrous oxide. 

“I don’t know,” he whispers. The room beyond blurs as he stares at nothing, focused only on the tingly euphoria of feeling you under his hands clashing with the ever-present and crushing shame that he couldn't do it sooner. “I don’t know. I’m sorry.”

“I don’t want you—to be sorry.” Shuddering breaths and gasps still cleave your sentences in half, and Spencer listens so intently he thinks there might be harmonics hidden in the layers of your voice. He clings to every syllable like you’re wielding the word of god in a five-foot-something body. “I just miss you so m—much. I want you to—to love me.”

“I do,” he promises immediately, lips pressing to your ear. “I do love you. So much. So much.”

When you don’t respond, he’s not exactly surprised. He almost asks what he can do, what you need—but is quite sure that’s not the right move. Instead he doesn’t say a thing. Only holds you.

Later, you’ll pull back and he’ll swim in your teary gaze, and then kiss you. He’ll trace silent apologies into every inch of your skin under the torrent of the shower, and he’ll do whatever it takes to make you understand. But for now, for the first time in months, you’re holding each other, and that’s all either of you need.  

[primofate]

Where he would propose and how it happens [Genshin Men]

Warnings: haven’t written in a while please excuse and tell me about pronoun slips, I’m sleep deprived, not proofread (this will be my fixed disclaimer as a writing parent, haha)

Notes: All of these were captured by me in game. I just felt like exploring the beauty of Genshin more and this was a great way to do it while mixing it with writing. Note that you may not agree with some of these, and that's totally fine, these are my thoughts and ideas :)

Characters: Aether, Albedo, Alhaitham, Ayato, Baizhu, Cyno, Dainsleif, Diluc, Gorou, Heizou, Itto, Kaeya, Kaveh, Kazuha, Lyney, Neuvillette, Scaramouche, Tartaglia, Thoma, Tighnari, Venti, Wriothesley, Xiao, Zhongli, gn!reader

Aether

Aether is a simple man, and though he plans his proposal he doesn't really think much of the place, somewhere where the two of you frequent, maybe on your daily/nightly walks.

It happens just as the two of you are about to go back, this is where you sit and relax for a while as the sun sets. You can see Mondstadt in the distance and the beautiful orange sky.

As you're about to turn and walk away he catches your wrist and pulls you back into the middle of those tiny pink flowers.

Now that he thinks about it... This is where his journey really started: Starfell Lake, and how perfect would it be to start a new one with you?

"Y/N, I...want you to stay. I mean, forever," the words are simple but it gets across.

Albedo

Also a simple person. You might think Dragonspine when you think Albedo and I agree that all that snow could be romantic but I went for Starsnatch Cliff. It's a good place to see Mondstadt, and he takes you there after the sun has set.

He would probably comment about how you can see a lot of things from here, and how the world is such a great, vast place, full of things to explore and discover.

"...and yet I find myself thinking... how all that I want is right next to me. Would you do me the honour of being my lifelong partner?"

Alhaitham

Something's up and you can tell, this isn't your usual route home, and honestly you've never stopped in these parts of the city. You've passed by it sure, but never with Alhaitham.

You ask him where the two of you are going and if there are some extra errands to run before going home. He only shakes his head and ends up leading you over right next to the glowing Padisarah flower.

He HAS planned this, so why does it feel like he hasn't? Even has a ring in his pocket (granted it is the SIMPLEST ring one could ever imagine, that's just how he is)

Ends up just taking the ring box out and showing it to you while trying to speak "I..." doesn't speak much of his emotions so has a hard time, but feels pathetic afterwards so meets your eyes straight on. "...A promise... That what I feel for you... is everlasting,"

Ayato

That small shrine/garden/sitting area just outside the Kamisato Estate. It's just a bit more private than the sitting area INSIDE the estate.

You wouldn't think anything of it because you do hang out here from time to time.

Ayato might seem like a grand person but in the end he doesn't want to stray far from home.

"I'm...sorry if this is a bit abrupt," fishes out a ring box from his long sleeve. "I've been meaning to ask for a while now, will you share your life with me as my beloved?"

Baizhu

That nice little hill just outside of Bubu Pharmacy, where you can find Glaze Lilies strewn about and the night view is quite nice. It's a place the two of you go just to get some quick, fresh air if Baizhu isn't feeling too well. Changsheng is left at the pharmacy from time to time, this is one of those times.

"I've been thinking...how precious time really is," he looks at you with tenderness in his eyes, yet a lot of uncertainty shrouded in them. "I don't know where this road will lead me... but you alone are my lifelong remedy. Would you accompany me on this journey?"

Cyno

Cyno often comes here to watch the sun set, since he was a student, but he does think it's more beautiful at night.

The two of you are leaning over the railway and looking at Sumeru, just talking about the day.

Cyno doesn't really plan it. He seems to be the type to but when he feels that it's the right time, specially when he feels it strongly, there's no better time than the present.

It's while he's watching you talk enthusiastically about your day, that there's a sudden twist in his heart. This is the person I want to spend the rest of my life with.

"Y/N--" he cuts you off successfully, wonder in his eyes. "What do you say to being intertwined for life?"

Dainsleif

Anywhere where there is an unobstructed view of the stars and night sky, but particularly at the hill of Cape Oath, where the two of you lie side by side on the grass, staring up at the stars.

At this point the two of you have been travelling together for a while, looking for answers to his curse. To Dainsleif, the two of you are pretty much married already, but just to confirm it, every night, he asks "Is this the path that you choose? To bind your fate with mine?"

And every night, like a promise, you say yes.

Diluc

Diluc doesn't stray far from home too. He prefers to stay close to his memories, no matter how painful they are.

He HAS planned it, but ends up proposing at an unexpected time.

It's when he's on the road home and you're waiting right by the lamp post for him. It's late. Later than usual and here you are worrying about how it's a cold night and that he should've worn more.

It's at that moment that it hits him, "Y/N, the thought of being separated...it's not something I'd want to imagine" he grips your hand tightly. "...For the rest of my life, it's you that I want to spend it with,"

Doesn't even have the planned ring on him and apologizes about the word vomit he just did. He was just overcome with emotions right then and there.

Gorou

That small spot next to Bourou Village. Watatsumi Island is beautiful in general, but Gorou knows the good spots.

Is nervous but tries not to show it, but you can totally tell because he's way too stiff.

"Wh-What do you mean? Nothing's wrong!" When asked if everything's fine.

When standing at this spot though, his nervousness seems to go away and for a minute everything is normal until... "H-Hey, Y/N, so..." you look at him and he's fumbling with his hands, unable to meet your gaze. "Y-You, and I--We've been...You know--"

Seems to panic. He is SO uncool right now. Closes his eyes and just blurts it out when he realizes this isn't working out "With all my heart, will you marry me?!"

Heizou

Little secret garden just next to Inazuma city. Quiet place yet you can hear a bit of the hustle and bustle in the city.

Heizou is the type to get on one knee and confidently, directly say it.

He's planned it, and gets you right in the middle of the bridge (has probably asked someone to take a photo as well)

"Y/N, beloved," grins "would you unravel the mysteries of life with me?" (thinks it was such a cool line, then hands you the ring in a box)

Itto

Does not think about it nor plans it. Just happens and it happens because he talks about it casually. You can't really tell if he's serious.

He has this conversation with you in Chinjuu Forest, which is a naturally beautiful place, but he's really only there with you to look for onikabuto.

"You know, it'd be really cool if we could keep doing this huh?"

You ask what he means cause you don't really have any idea. You guys have been doing this for ages. Why would it stop now, is what you think.

"I mean, like, you know, forever," he says this while looking under a rock. "Like if we were just onikabuto fightin' partners forever, get it?"

You stall for a moment and wonder if he knows what he's saying, and you ask if he specifically means he just wants you as an onikabuto fighting partner.

"Oh, well, yea it's ONE of the things I like about you, but I like your kisses too. Hehe," scratches the back of his head then looks like he gets a bright idea. "Oh hey that's an idea! How 'bout we just become partners for life, Y/N?"

Yeah, that's how it happens.

Kaeya

Kaeya keeps it simple, but also romantic. He gets that spot above the gate of Mondstadt, where you can see Barbatos' statue from a distance. He knows how much you love the city and he has a special place in his heart for it too.

The two of you pretty much keep each other warm up there, with him behind you and his arms wrapped around your shoulders.

At some point, as the two of you have been talking for ages and when the perfect silence descends, he leans into your ear and asks you to close your eyes. When you do, you feel him slip something onto your ring finger as he says "A thousand words wouldn't be enough to tell you how I really feel...Would you want to create a thousand and more memories together instead?"

Kaveh

Kaveh thinks its only appropriate to propose at his masterpiece, but he thinks you're even more of a masterpiece than anything he's made or encountered before.

Plus the place just holds a lot of meaning and memories for him. It's beautiful too and you've always said that you're proud of him for completing it.

His is a pretty simple proposal. "I've always thought that something's been missing in my life...I think I've figured out that it's you, Y/N. It's only going to be you,"

Kazuha

Inazuma holds a lot of memories for Kazuha, some that are rather unpleasant. But home is still home and perhaps he wanted to create more good memories there.

Truth be told he could have proposed to you anywhere, and I don't think he had really planned it. It was just something heartfelt that he wanted to say as he sees you climbing up the stairs to the shrine. The sunlight hitting you perfectly and the sakura blossoms just cascading around your form. It's perfect, he thought.

You're a few steps further up from him and it makes him look up at you the slightest bit. With a shine in his eyes and a smile on his face he asks, quite sincerely "Have you ever felt like home was right next to you, Y/N?"

and before you could answer he answers his own question first. "I have, despite the storms and catastrophes I've gone through...Y/N, you're the home that my heart forever needs,"

Lyney

Lyney plans it, but doesn't do it in a grand way. He just wants it to be sincere and special. He thinks this place is cute, what with the little sort of gazebo with a small sitting space to just sit and drink tea.

He proposes to you as the two of you sit, you've never been here before and wonder why the two of you are out here, actually.

"Oh, is it strange? Haha, I just wanted a bit of a change," Rubs the back of his neck and starts to feel nervous.

You explain that you're not complaining, just curious, but you like it!

"Oh, that's a relief. I'm...Uh..." sort of fumbles with something in his coat, really funny seeing as he's a magician and is supposed to be nimble with his fingers. Recovers quite fast and manages to do his classic "flower-behind-your-ear" trick and hands it over to you.

He does the same trick, but this time takes a ring out. "Y/N, you complete me in ways words can't express...will you..." gulps before he continues "marry me?"

Neuvillette

Seems very posh but prefers to keep it simple. He thinks its more special rather than making a super grand gesture. He could of easily proposed in front of the Opera Epiclese, but instead did it at one of the small fountains in Marcotte Station.

The two of you are out on a nightly stroll and this is just where the two of you ended up.

Clears his throat before starting, takes your hand in his, but its his eyes that really do the talking. "I may not be the best in expressing my deepest thoughts and emotions...but there is one single thing that I am quite sure about," he stalls here and seems to look into your soul.

"And it's you, my love. As I take my next steps into this life I lead, I would be honoured if I take them with you by my side,"

Scaramouche

Has it on his mind but doesn't particularly plans when or where he's going to say it. Just knows that he wants to.

While out on an assignment the two of you pass by Mawtiyima Forest. You've always thought it looked like such a magical place. You request to sit on a hill for a bit before moving on.

Scaramouche, as usual, grumbles about this but relents and ends up plopping next to you as well. Truth be told he also liked this particular forest and how quiet yet vibrant it was.

No words are exchanged for a while, just the two of you looking at the view. Scaramouche sneaks a glance at you and you have that stupid, wide eyed look on your face, the glowing blue mushrooms reflecting off of your eyes.

He secretly thinks its cute.

He shows that by aggressively saying. "I don't know what you had in mind when you agreed to come with me, but you're stuck with me till the end now, got it?"

Yes. That's pretty much his proposal.

Tartaglia

Is one who would take you on a vacation off on an isolated, quaint and cute island like Petrichor with wonderful views of Fontaine's waterfalls.

Is the type to get down on one knee while this beautiful background is in sight. Totally plans it and is the cliche, basic proposal. Would totally love the townspeople to clap and cheer while this is happening too.

"Y/N, every day spent with you is a treasure, and I want it to continue for the rest of my life, will you marry me?"

Thoma

Has planned it. Makes sure you have a good time beforehand, probably at some festival and it's when the two of you are winding down, sitting on that rock with the lamp on it that he asks.

"Isn't it magical?" he asks as a starter and you ask what exactly he's talking about. "How it's always a good time and how easy life seems when I'm with you,"

You tell him that's because he always takes good care of you and he laughs heartily at that. "I'm glad to hear it," kisses your forehead and smiles down at you.

"Every day, Y/N, I just fall deeper in love with you...Do you think, maybe, we could spend our whole lives together?"

Tighnari

Plans it and is calm about it. Has everything under control. He chose Pardis Dhyai specifically for its aesthetics and specifically the inside in case it rains. (He doesn't want you to get wet as he proposes, but also doesn't want his ears and tail wet as it happens.)

Clears his throat before he starts, doesn't have a ring because he just doesn't seem the type, for him its more of a pact.

"Rather than talk about emotions alone, I'd want to highlight that you've been quite the mind-stimulating study partner," coughs into his hand "but of course, that's only one aspect of you that I like...it's safe to say that I like you enough to propose the pact of marriage...would that be alright with you?"

Venti

Where else would he think was a good place to propose? Of course he would do it here.

No roundabout way of saying it. Confident in all aspects, partly because he's a God but partly because...what has he got to lose, really?

Doesn't really propose marriage cause...he's not a mortal. Forever might be a thing for him but maybe not for you.

"It's been a while since I've felt really at ease with someone, you know?"

You jokingly say he seems to be at ease with everyone, specially after a few bottles of wine. He laughs out loud at that, and remarks back that no one can make him laugh the way you do.

"It's blossomed into something more beautiful than I thought it would be, Y/N. You, me, and us. Can we stay like this till the end?"

Wriothesley

Has planned it and has stuck to his plan. At a little vacation home at the Southeast of the Beryl Region. The two of you spent a few days relaxing there, under the guise that Wriothesley needed a break.

On the last day he surprised you by revealing that he had asked your family and friends, both from faraway regions and nearby towns to come and celebrate with the two of you.

Celebrate what, you ask.

That's when he gets down on one knee and pops the question "You know, I could still be mistaken," he grins at this but is clearly joking. "but I don't think I am and seeing as you've put up with me, Y/N, I think it's safe to say you're my forever person,"

It was days after when you realize how confident he is of this whole thing when you think about the fact that he had pre planned to invite all your friends and family over to "celebrate"

Xiao

Also a person who doesn't stray far from home. The rooftop of Wangshu Inn is actually quite romantic on quiet nights, with a view of Liyue and a gentle breeze.

To Xiao, marriage isn't really about a ring and signing papers. It's a contract and a promise to each other.

On one of the nights, he just thinks it's the right time to say it.

He's more quiet than usual and you ask if something's wrong.

He pauses for a while before answering. "...Apologies, there's a lot on my mind..."

Xiao has become a lot more open with you through the years.

"...I... just wanted to propose the prospect of being...binded together," you ask what that means cause you're not really familiar, you end up asking if that's the same as marriage.

"M-Marriage? Uh... Yes... I suppose that's what mortals call it... but being binded together is more..." stops talking and gets red in the face. "Let's... just leave it at that,"

I like to think that the process of binding is just that your souls are entwined together...So when one of you passes, you still remember them in your next life, type of thing. Cause if you're a mortal, chances are, you'll die earlier than Xiao. Anyhow, that's a completely different story.

Zhongli

Zhongli prefers the quiet and the nature. This is probably part of your occasional stroll when the two of you need some quiet time.

Zhongli, with how long he has lived, also doesn't see marriage as the normal get-down-on-one-knee-with-a-ring-thing, but for him, it's a contract. It's more binding than anything in the world.

"Y/N, we've walked this path countless of times before," he starts as the two of you continue to stroll. You reply saying that you like this particular area where the bamboos are.

"Is that so?" suddenly stops and looks at you. "In that case, would you care to listen to a proposal I have?"

Clears his throat when you give the approval. "As I've said, we've walked this path countless of times before..." he takes your hand in his "but for me, who has lived longer than you, I've traversed this path for even more times," he closes his eyes. "Yet, with you by my side, this path changes. It transforms into something resplendent. As if...every time had been the first time I've walked through it. It is with you, Y/N, that I discover life anew, despite the thousands of years I've lived. Would you consider forming a contract of lifelong partnership with me, and only me?"

End

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Masterlist

[long-live-astronerd-ghost-king]

DPXDC prompt. Dead on main. Singer! Phantom x Red Hood!Jason

Laws are easily changed if businessmen smell money.

Paulina and Sam suggest Danny to try to become a singer in order to change society's opinion about ghosts a little. In the end, the otherworldly sound of his voice can at least be used for the benefit of Realms.

And it seems like the Everlasting Trio is really liked by the public. At first they just release a few songs (Exams kill, Battle with myself, What an Autopsy Won't Show, Among the stars). But a mysterious atmosphere mixed with understandable teenage problems begins to take over teens playlists. Their fans want more and more.

So, when under the pressure of the public and profit-hungry bigwigs all bans on the presence of ecto creatures in the United States are lifted, the Trio goes on their first Tour.

~~~~~

Jason stumbles upon Phantom's songs completely by accident. It was painful to hear them for the first time but at the same time it was as if he could breathe again because he had found someone similar. Someone who understands, and who doesn't judge him for coming back wrong. Jason listens to his voice on repeat and the rage seems to recede and subside. There is sadness of loss and fear in the songs but most of them end bringing some hope and this thought gives Red Hood more strength not to break down for another day. and then another, and another..And one day, the green eyes in the mirror do not scare Jason but shows him that he belonging to something more. Todd can't explain it more precisely, but it was as if the waters of Lazarus inside him had calmed down and he was no longer enemies with them. He even jokes with Tim that he is finally rest in peace and ready to live a full undead life when his brother (God, his lil brother whom he wanted to hurt recently because of his own stupidity), asks him about his strange behavior.

~~~~~

Jason forgets how to breathe again. His favorite band, and most importantly his favorite vocalist, is coming to Gotham with a concert. For many years now, none of the nonresidents have dared to take such a risk, but it seems like Phantom has absolutely no instinct for self-preservation. Well, as a true fan, Red Hood will do his best so that none of the gothamites spoil the Trio's impression of their first concert here. Danny is beside himself with excitement. Their concert in the hometown of the Red Hood was approved. Of course, there is no chance that he would be able to meet such a busy vigilante but Phantom continues to dream. If he'll fly a little over the city instead of sleeping after rehearsals, maybe he'll get an autograph from at least one member of the bat clan.

~~~~~ Phantom: Thank you very much Mr. Nightwing sir. Just sign it for.. Nightwing: For a Phantom, right? Huh, I recognized you, my brother has poster in his room. Nice hairstyle by the way. Danny*urgently*: Which one of them?

Nightwing: Jeez, and I thought it was just a stage image. Ghosts are kinda creepy. Terribly persistent, to be precise. And yeah, Jason, he absolutely not against you as a vigilante. You can safely ask Phantom to sign your helmet, I promise. Man was so happy when find out you're listening to his songs, you have no idea.

Jason *holds out a hand*. Nightwing: What? Jason: If you dared to meet Phantom before me, then where is my autograph? Nightwing: Em..oops? I gave him mine if it helps.

Jason: *sounds of an angry lazarus demon*.

[spatialwave]

"my ambition" - part one

pairing: jayvik x fem!reader word count: 1k tags: mdni! semi-nsfw, fluffy, poly relationship, reader has a chronic illness, no use of y/n, not beta’d. notes:no summary bc it’s very short n sweet and mostly just some fluff!! will probably write a part 2 to this or use this fic as a base for future one shots hehe. reminder that my ask box is open! 🩵 credits: art by @/shuploc & divider by @/cafekitsune on tumblr!

part 2. ->

“No, no, this doesn’t make sense.”

The flickering flame of several candles lit up the darkened apartment as Jayce sat over a scattering of papers. His back hunched, eyes tired, stubble unshaved and fingers tracing over the writings on the parchments. Forever studying and analyzing ways to work with the hextech, to improve upon it and use it to help others. To help you, and Viktor.

“Sleep is good for the brain.” A tired voice spoke from behind him.

There was a quiet groan that erupted from deep within his chest, a reprieve from the chaos in his mind, as he rested back against the wooden chair that creaked beneath his weight. Your hand, a delicate touch, trailed over his bare shoulders as he worked late in only his nice pair of trousers that were gifted by the Kiramman family.

He hadn’t taken a single moment of rest since a meeting with Viktor and Heimerdinger earlier that day to go over progress of the hextech research. They had hit a roadblock, having advanced so far, yet still struggling to find ways for it to help the people, rather than just Piltover.

Hextech was more than a tool to better run the city and improve upon its trades within Runeterra. If only he could find a way to stabilize the crystal.

“You’re overworking yourself, Jayce,” you continued, arms now wrapping around his shoulders. Your chest pressed against the back of his head, hands palming against his muscled chest.

“I’m this close to a breakthrough,” the man sighed, finding comfort in your touch as he leaned back and let his eyes flutter closed, sleep heavy in his head, “Progress Day is three months away, and what do we have to show for it? An unstabilized crystal?”

Jayce was worked up like this more often than not, the work with hextech had taken the forefront for years now. Recently it had begun to consume him, but you were the recipe to keeping him sane. 

You were his rock, as he said.

“Hexgates, airships, robots,” your posh accent chimed as your body moved and you’d managed to sneak your way onto Jayce’s lap — ultimately severing the line between him and his work. 

Your chests pressed together, faces only a few inches apart as you stared into those honey-coloured eyes.

“Why do you always get so down on yourself?” 

Jayce stared at you, strong calloused hands settling on your hips as you straddled him. He had no ambition to answer, knowing very well that he was his own worst critic and you were his biggest supporter. 

“You’ll get there,” you continued, head ducking as your lips pressed to his jaw. The roughage of his stubble prickly against your lips as you kissed, trailing from under his chin to underneath his ear, “now, I haven’t had a chance to have you in over a week. I think I’m rather deserving.”

That roused a chuckle from him, a toothy grin on his lips as he allowed himself to relax under your touch. 

“I want to do this for you,” he murmured, head lulling back as you kissed down his neck, “something to help.”

“I know,” you soothed, one hand palmed at his chest as you pulled back, a finger touching his chin and tilting his face back to you, “I’ve made it this far, haven’t I?”

Jayce’s eyes opened, and it was like seeing you for the first time all over again. Beautiful and glowing.

Your sickness was well-hidden, a struggle you dealt with behind closed doors. Pain that erupted through your veins, left your muscles weak and skin burning. It came in flares — aches so painful it left you bedridden for weeks.

Once an Academy all-star, now confined to your apartment. You were thankful for Jayce and Viktor, the two most important individuals in your life.

“Now come to bed. I can’t remember the last time you’d managed to stay up later than Viktor,” you smiled, shifting off of his lap. Two quick breaths blew out the candles, and you’d managed to pull Jayce along behind you like a lovesick puppy.

You dropped the robe that had covered your body, revealing your half-naked body save for the underwear that hugged the curves of your hips. The mattress dipped under your weight as you crawled in next to a sleeping Viktor, who had retired to bed with you a few hours earlier.

He rolled onto his side toward you, a slender arm wrapped over your waist and bony fingers pressing into the skin of your hip. You pressed yourself against his frail chest, face buried as you inhaled his scent and Jayce slipped under the blankets on the other side of him.

“Finally wrangled him?” Viktor hummed, half-asleep, as both yours and Jayce’s warmth kept him tired.

“You’ve let him beat you again. You’re losing your drive for all-nighters full of bright ideas,” you murmured, nuzzling against him.

“I’ve long lost that spark,” Viktor mumbled, burying his face in your hair and sighing as he felt Jayce’s hands slide along his bare skin, “I’m a tired old man now. I can live with that.”

Jayce snorted, “I do it for the both of us then,” he murmured into his lover’s ear, breath warm and tickling his skin. A shaky breath trembled out from Viktor’s lips, tensing his arms around you.

You were quick to join in on the fun, lips attached to the base of Viktor’s throat as you left a trail of feather light kisses along his skin. One hand reaching down between his legs and into the briefs he wore.

“Can’t a man get rest?” he breathed out, squirming between you two. 

“No,” Jayce huffed, lips pressed to Viktor’s shoulders as he assaulted him with a flurry of open-mouthed kisses to his skin, teeth and lips dragging against him.

“Sorry, love,” you whispered, licking a line on his neck before suckling on the skin, “I may have riled him up in the kitchen.”

“How awful,” he sighed, though, there was nothing Viktor enjoyed more than having two lips and two pairs of hands traversing his body. 

He melted into the touch as the three of you consumed each other. Hands traveling over skin, lips connected, tongues lapping at each other and clothes ripped from bodies.

The three of you were the embodiment of love. On the worst days, there were no thoughts of giving up. You were each other’s ambition.

[classyrbf]

COME HOME! — TOJI FUSHIGURO

SYNOPSIS...you’re afraid one day he won’t come home, leaving you in a constant state of worry and fear of what could happen especially with his family in on the line

INFO...toji fushiguro x ex assassin fem!reader, fluff with some angst, domestic relationship, megumi is readers bio kid, toji an assassin, mentions of blood, sweet ending, not proofread

OTHER...likes and reblogs are appreciated

i'm sorry for being gone for so long and not writing anything or even sticking to my kinktober plan, quite literally fell into a black hole of unmotivation and writing smut was not helping at all lmao

The night was brutal, cold air striking your skin and the winds were sharp. Yet, you sat by the cracked window, your skin felt like it was on fire. Police sirens flooded the silence and the small dim lamp did its best to light up the room. With your knees tucked to your chest, you sat and watched the cars drive by, one of the streetlights flickering every now and again. Little Megumi slept soundly in his room, tucked warmly in his bed with his favorite stuffed dinosaur. You had been up for hours, waiting for Toji to come back home from his job.

You lived with worry that one day he wouldn’t show up, come back home to you and his son. What he did was dangerous, being an assassin and what not. He always brags about how he’s the best, so fast and strong, silent as a mouse that most of them don’t even get the chance. But, what if there’s someone out there who is strong enough to put up a fight? What if he gets caught? Seriously injured? That’s what makes you worry. You knew what you were getting yourself into from the moment you met him because you also used to be an assassin, but as soon as you found out you were pregnant, that lifestyle was cut short. You’d never do anything to put your son in danger.

Many talks between you Toji about changing what he does, doing something better, safer, always led to arguments. It’s like killing was the only thing he knew how to do. It’s sad to say. But you couldn’t help but love him, and worry for him, care for him. You only wanted Megumi to be safe. The job was a dangerous one. Creating enemies along the way, a target painted on your head. You just needed him to come home. Nervously biting at your nails, your eyes scanned the streets and tops of the grungy apartment buildings. You always wanted to move out of this damn city, but Toji said it’d be too obvious if you two moved somewhere nice, somewhere you couldn’t blend in. As much as you hate to admit it, he was right. You just didn’t want Megumi growing up here, turning out like you or his father. You wanted better for your son.

The rattling of the doorknob makes your head spin, jumping to your feet before even thinking. You were on full alert, hoping whoever walks in was your husband and your husband only. Your eyes narrowed, the bulky frame of Toji stumbling through the doorway, his skin pale and shining with sweat. He slammed the door behind him, groaning in pain as he dragged his feet across the floor and to the nearest chair. He didn’t look too well.

Immediately, you walked out of the living room and into the kitchen, assessing him with a worried look in your eye. “Toji, baby?” You nearly fall over when you cup his face, his nose bloody and lip busted. You don’t even notice he’s holding his side. “What the fuck happened?” You’re cupping his face, eyes scanning his finger when you see the copious amounts of blood on his hands. Lifting his shirt, you see the huge gash on his side. “Fucking hell.”

“Missed you too, sweets,” he struggles to even speak, letting out a pained sigh. “Where’s the kid?” He asks, looking at you rummaging through the cabinets for the first aid kit.

“He’s fine, sleeping. Why?” You glance over your shoulder, snatching the first aid off of the shelf. You kneel in front of him, taking the bottle of alcohol and pouring it straight onto the wound.

“Fuck!” He screams, slamming his hand on the table. “Son of a bitch!” He hisses, clenching his eyes shut. “Could’ve warned me, you know?” He breathed heavily, his chest heaving up and down.

“Would’ve been worse if I did. Answer my questions,” you demand, wiping the blood around his wound while applying pressure.

“Fucker that got me knew about you and the kid. Though…shit—thought someone else might’ve came after you two. I tried getting here as fast as I could,” he sighs. His eyes flutter shut, clenching his fists so hard the whites of his knuckles show. “Don’t worry, I killed him. Obviously.”

“Yeah, he still fucked you up pretty good though.” You shake your head, grabbing the bandage and placing it over the gash. “I told you Toji, we need to leave, find somewhere safer, better. You need to quiet this shit, okay? We got a fucking kid to look out for—”

“Mommy? Daddy?” The soft sound of Megumi’s voice made you spin. He rubs his tired eyes, clinging onto his stuffed dinosaur. “Is daddy okay? I heard him yell.”

“I’m okay, Megs.” Toji flashes a smile. “Mommy’s just helping me with something and then I’ll come tuck you back in, alright? Go back to bed.” He points back to his room.

“Daddy’s okay, baby,” you say softly. Megs just nods and tiredly shuffles back into his room. A deep sigh escapes your lips as you wrap the gauze tightly around his torso before cutting it with the scissors and tucking it under. You toss the scissors to the floor, standing back to your feet to rid your hands of his blood. This is what you were afraid of. This is what you didn’t want. You were a mother now and you knew just how cruel this world was.

You take a rag and wet it under the water before gently lifting his chin, and wiping the blood from his nose. You’ve done this too many times before, it was practically like muscle memory. Stitching yourself up, wiping the blood that seeped into your skin and now you’re doing the same for him. His hands find your waist, squeezing gently while you stand between his legs and Toji forgets about the pain for a moment. His glossy eyes look up at you and he realizes what he has. A wife, a son, a family who cares about him, loves him. You’re always so gently yet so affirmative and he’s reminded why he fell in love with you. You make up every part of him that was missing.

“I’m sorry.” His voice and raspy and delicate. “I know I scared you when I walked through the door like this.” He gently grabs your wrist, pulling your hand from his face. “Look at me, baby.” And when your eyes meet his, he can tell just how worried you are, how much you’re hiding just to seem strong. “I’m sorry.”

Tears well up in your eyes and they’re falling before you could blink them away. “I’m so scared you won’t walk through the door one day, Toji. I wait by the window, watching and listening. Looking out for our baby boy. I don’t want that day to come when you’re not here because of this stupid fucking job,” you cry, looking away from him as you sob into your hands.

His heart breaks at your cries, pulling you down into his chest despite the pain he’s in because he couldn’t care less about that right now. He soothingly rubs your back, placing a kiss on your head. “We’ll leave tomorrow. Everything. Move somewhere else. Start a new life. I fucking promise you. I should’ve listened to you before and I’m so sorry.” His voice shakes with each word. “You don’t know how scared I was to walk in here thinking something might’ve happened to you and Megs. Just thinking about that…fuck…I can’t imagine.” He shakes his head. You cling onto him, holding him tightly. “I love you so fucking much.”

“I love you too,” you sniffle. Lifting your head, you gently caress his cheek with the pad of your thumb, searching his eyes and you see is sadness and sincerity. “Tomorrow. Promise?”

“I promise, baby. Me, you, and the kid. We’ll all get outta here. Go somewhere nice. Maybe a beach, watch him play in the sand?” Toji chuckles. You nod, laughing. “There’s that smile,” he says.

“Daddy?” The little patters of Megumi’s feet make their way into the kitchen. “Are you still gonna tuck me in?” He pouts.

Toji looks at you and then at his son. You hop off of his lap and he stands up as if nothing is wrong, but still walking with a slight limp and his hand holding his side. “Come here, kid.” He scoops him up with arm like he weighed nothing. “How about you sleep with me and mommy tonight, huh?” He reaches to ruffle Megumi’s hair. You walk over to the both of them, your chest feeling warm, a smile adorning your face. Megumi leans his head on Toji’s shoulder, quickly shutting his eyes. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

[rin-may-1103]

Delilah's language (part three)

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Danny stood next to Mr. Bruce, watching as people milled around and chatted. a large group gathered right in front of them.

They had flown to Gotham last night, and Danny had been given a nice room to stay in at some fancy hotel. motel? which one was supposed to be fancy?

eh, either way, Danny settled into the room and promptly went back to sleep. He managed to get a total of twelve(12) hours of sleep before waking up. he spent the time after that just sitting and playing on his phone until his alarm went off.

that was two hours ago, and now here he was, standing in the middle of Gotham City Zoo at 8 in the morning. No one had noticed them yet, which Danny was greatly appreciative of; he had not been ready for this.

Sure, Mr. Bruce had said he invited all the scientists, but this? this was not what he was expecting.

he was expecting maybe one or two scientists to be standing around, watching Dalilah and her family as some rich kid hounded them for answers. they were scientist, surely, they had better things to do than attend some kid's birthday party.

but no.

All of them were here. All. Of. Them.

the whole scientific team was in attendance, and right in the middle of them was the birthday boy. his voice drowned out by the scientists all hungrily trying to force their knowledge into his brain.

oh dear ancients what had Danny agreed to?

suddenly, an older boy (slightly younger than Danny, it seemed) approached the group and turned the birthday boy to look in their direction. Danny's poor overstimulated enhanced hearing instantly zeroed in on what they were saying, a pool of dread settling in his stomach. "look, Damian. Bruce is back with that dude you wanted to meet."

Immediately, the kid's green eyes lit up in excitement as they settled on Danny and the kid's father. The boy promptly shoved past the other scientist and marched over to them, mouth somehow set into a scowl even though Danny could feel the kid's excitement increase tenfold. The older boy easily followed behind in amusement.

before the kid could open his mouth, Danny felt the air shift next to him. It wasn't a ghost, they wouldn't have been so obvious, and his sense hadn't gone off, so human then. (he should have heard them earlier, but with how loud it was? Danny wasn't too worried about how he had missed the person) which means, Danny couldn't react obviously or people would ask questions.

tensing up, to prevent his body from reacting on instinct, he waited for the person to act. Not even a second later, someone threw their arm around Danny's shoulders and pulled him close to their side, their voice bright and cheerful. "Damian! look who Bruce dragged in!"

Danny turned his head to glance at the man, he had black hair and blue eyes. This wasn't a surprise, considering almost all the kids Bruce adopted had the same features, so which one was this? One of the older ones, obviously, hmmm. Slim frame, but still musculer. perfect for swimming or gymnastics. So, that would mean, this was Dick Grayson, the oldest?

"tch," Damian scowled even more, "release him, Grayson." bingo. Danny had been correct then. and that was one heck of a scowl, how did the kid do that? Danny could feel he was happy at the sight of the older boy, but somehow, he looked like he'd rather be eating snails than deal with the man.

maybe he should introduce him to Sam, she'd love to learn how to do that.

"Alright! Alright!," Grayson chuckled, what was Danny supposed to call him? Dick or Grayson? Richard? "I'm just trying to be nice."

he turned to face Danny, releasing him from his grasp, his smile almost blinding, "Hi there! my name is Dick. Yes, that is my name. No, I'm not joking. It's nice to meet you, what's your name?"

Danny blinked, then hesitantly shook the man's hand. he should have stayed home, anything would have been better than this. oh, shit they're all looking at him now. "uh, my name's Danny. Danny Fenton."

"Danny! nice. So, what did you do to be invited?" Dick asked, resting his hands in his pockets and lifting a brow. Mr. Bruce had walked away a while ago, so Danny would have to deal with this himself it seems.

Damian rolled his eyes but looked curious as well.

"uh, Mr. Bruce," This got an immediate reaction from all three of them; their eyes widening in surprise and maybe a hint of glee, "invited me. something about how Damian wanted to learn how to speak with Dalilah."

"Really?" asked the other boy, Tim? "you can actually speak with them?"

"Tch, of course not, Drake. The purple-backed gorillas do not have a spoken language, they use their bodies to communicate. Daniel here is the only person in the world to figure out how to communicate with them."

"Don't call me that," Danny cut in, wincing when they turned to look at him, "my name's Danny, not Daniel."

"isn't Danny a nickname for Daniel?" Damian asked, his brows furrowed. "I do not call people by their nicknames, it creates a false familiar connection."

"Usually," Danny conceded, "but my name isn't Daniel. My parents chose Danny, it's not a nickname. and if you really don't want to call me that, then you can use my last name. It shouldn't be a problem considering I'm the only Fenton here."

"Oh," Damian blinked, then thought about it for a second, "Danny it is then."

The other two shared a glance, clearly surprised for whatever reason. Sighing, Danny waved his hand in agreement. The kid could call him whatever he wanted, just not Daniel. Anything but Daniel. (Ancients forbid if he gets called Dan.)

"Anyway, like you were saying. Delilah speaks with her body movements but there is a vocal part. It's a little like sign language and that one whistle language combined, but instead of just using your hands, facial movements, and whistles to communicate, you have to use your whole body. All at once."

Danny then rubbed his neck, "And I'm sure someone else would be able to speak with her if they just paid attention. It's not that hard."

"Not that hard?" Grayson asked, glancing at the gorillas. "how long did it take you to figure out her language then?"

"Oh," Danny blinked, then shrugged, "like, two hours. Like I said, it's really not that hard, you just have to watch her talk for a while."

"two hours?!" Tim, Danny's pretty sure his name was Tim, gaped, staring at Danny like he was nuts. which, Danny didn't appreciate by the way. "It only took you two hours to figure it out?"

Danny wasn't sure if he should feel offended or amused...

"That's impossible," someone scoffed, dragging all of their attention to an approaching scientist. "It takes upwards of three months to multiple years of hard work to even understand human sign language, let alone animal gestures. You couldn't have learned it in just two hours."

Danny rolled his eyes, he remembered this guy. Dr. Trynul or something or whatever, he absolutely refused to believe Danny the last time they talked. he was a real stick in the mud if Danny ever saw one.

"Danny Fenton is listed as the only person in the world to have the ability to communicate with the gorillas. It even says as much in the scientific papers your group released last month." Damian huffed, narrowing his eyes at the man.

Dr. Trynul rolled his eyes, "I requested they leave that false information out, but Mertil absolutely refused to listen to reason."

"and it's a good thing she didn't," another researcher cut in. Danny remembered her from the first time he had to talk with the scientist involved with Dalilah. Real stern but a nice lady.

"This young man can communicate with them just like he would if he was one of them. I've seen it with my own eyes." she then turned to the group, a small smile growing on her face.

"Danny, it's so good to see you again! Delilah has been just such a sweetheart, and her baby is just the cutest thing in the world. You have to come and see them."

Danny rubbed the back of his neck and smiled back, "Sure, Oh!" He turned back to Damian, "maybe I can introduce you to them if you haven't been already?"

The boy nodded his head, his excitement rolling off of him in yellow swirls. Turning back, Danny nodded his head with a small smile, "Please, lead the way."

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