#so it's very hard for me to guess what's in her heart but i still wish to try

[hard-core-super-star]

brought you together so nice [W.Maximoff + N.Romanoff]

pairing: dom!natasha romanoff x sub!reader x switch!wanda maximoff

summary: natasha takes care of you until wanda comes back. needless to say, the witch is more than happy about the arrangement you both came up with in her absence.

warnings: SMUT, MINORS DO NO INTERACT -> porn with very little plot but even more feelings; mommy + daddy kink; slightly more established dom/dub dynamics; a dash of pet play (as usual); bondage; gagging; soft domme nat + bratty wanda!!!!; vibrator use [R receiving]; praise + degradation + a dash of humiliation; hair pulling; spanking; aftercare

wordcount: 4.1k

a/n: well, well, well...guess who got too attached to another series? yup, me 😅 these two have taken up more of my mind than i originally thought so here is part three of this little series. i don't have a plan to make another full part, but i might mess around and write a few blurbs here and there. we'll see what happens. anyway, thank you for all your support, especially regarding this little series. i'm thinking of opening my requests back up until the start of the new year so keep an eye out for that ;) [commissions are still more than welcome, though!] okay, i'll stop rambling for now, hope you enjoy <3

* * * * * * *

Natasha could be sweet when she wanted to.

That was the first thing you learned after agreeing to become her and Wanda's submissive. 

The rules and details weren't too clear yet, the redhead promising to answer all your questions as soon as the Sokovian came back from her mission. Still, she did what she could to fill in the gaps of your knowledge, allowing you to ask her as many questions as you pleased before showing you, in great detail, what she meant.

Despite the cold exterior you'd learned to love, she was much softer with you than you'd ever imagined. Sure, she was still a mean domme at heart, but she wanted to show you heights of pleasure you'd never experienced before.

And she went to great lengths to guarantee it.

It quickly became clear to you how much she loved impact play. Even outside of play sessions, she would always come up behind you, landing a hard smack to your ass before pulling you into her arms. You didn't mind, even when she did it in front of the others.

(Although Tony did whistle at you guys once and promptly earned himself a punch to the stomach. He laughed it off but made sure to never tease the Widow about her behavior with you again.)

You knew there were a lot of things you didn't know or fully understand, but Natasha always seemed to find a way to make you feel more excited than nervous about it. It was almost funny how quickly her personality changed once she allowed you to see past her walls.

Sure, she was still a little mean and more than a little snarky (which is exactly how you liked her, if you were being honest) yet there was a softer, affectionate, side that started coming out more and more.

She told you it was simply because Wanda wasn't around and she wasn't allowed to "break you in" without her around. Maybe it was a silly excuse perfectly crafted to keep you on your toes, but you didn't really mind.

Well, except because you really missed Wanda.

Being without the witch was harder than you thought it would be, but the Widow kept you busy enough to forget the empty spot beside you in their bed.

Your bed.

That was the second thing Natasha made you learn. 

Yes, you were technically an addition to their relationship, but you weren't an outsider. You never were.

That was the third thing you learned.

Both Natasha and Wanda had their eyes on you from the very beginning. They loved each other, and their relationship made them happier than they could put into words, and yet they always felt something was missing. A third energy to keep them in check. To stop them from getting too rough, too mean with each other. To help remember how to be soft after spending so much time fighting with the world.

It was...strange, but you couldn't deny what they meant to you. The attraction you felt toward them had always been there and after Wanda opened that door...well, let's just say there was no going back.

You didn't understand how real that was until now.

Because somehow, someway, after carrying guilt you didn't even need to have in the first place, you were here.

You were theirs.

You were waking up in their bed with Natasha's arms wrapped tight around your waist.

A shudder ran down your body as the redhead's lips met your bare shoulder, peppering kisses across the skin. "Morning, detka. Sleep well?"

"Yeah," you reply as a smile forms on your face. "You're a fantastic cuddler."

"Shut up," she mumbles. There's a clear lack of annoyance in her words despite her attempts at sounding tough. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Your grip on me begs to differ."

At your response, her hands move to grip your waist, her nails digging into your soft skin. The sensation makes you gasp, your back arching almost instantly. You can feel the redhead smiling against your skin. It hasn't been that long and she already knows your body better than you do.

"Sorry, were you saying something?" She says, taking advantage of your reactions to grind against your ass. "You seem a little distracted."

 It's a bit of a cruel game but it's one she loves to play with you. Truth be told, she loves playing with you, period. You're so different from Wanda, so much more responsive, more honest about your constant neediness.

"I don't know what you're talking about," you mumble, not so subtly grinding back against her.

Just because you were slowly learning the rules regarding your place didn't mean you didn't love pushing Natasha's buttons whenever you could. Which really only happened in the mornings and during aftercare. Those were the only two moments when the older woman allowed herself to be soft with you, to let you see behind the walls she'd expertly put up to keep everyone out. Everyone except you and Wanda, it seems.

Her voice remains low, straddling the border between a tease and a warning. "Is my good girl trying to be a brat?"

Your heart skips a beat at her words. At the mention of being her good girl. Of being hers.

After the rough beginning your relationship had, you never thought you'd be let into her heart in any way. And yet here you are. You're her good girl, her kitten, her darling submissive.

"No..." You trail off, trying to decide whether to behave or push her buttons a little more. Ultimately, your desire to be a little shit wins out. "...Daddy."

Natasha chuckles behind you, her hands moving from your hips and toward your breasts. She gives them a soft squeeze as her thumbs tease your hardening nipples. "Oh, kotenok, you woke up cheeky this morning, huh? You know what mouthing off like that will earn you, right?"

You do know. She's told you many, many times before, usually while she's praising you for being so good for her and drawing out orgasm after orgasm from your overstimulated body.

However, she's never actually acted out any of her warnings. It's a good thing, you know that, and yet you can't stop yourself from wanting to see what it will feel like. To explore what that kind of submission will do to you.

"Yes, Daddy. I know."

She hums before going right back to kissing across your shoulders, nipping at your skin just to get you to arch into her teasing hands. "I see...you want to be punished, don't you? Want Daddy to remind you of your place until there's nothing else inside your mind?"

You're about to reply when you're interrupted by F.R.I.D.A.Y. "Miss Romanoff, Miss Maximoff has asked me to notify you of her return."

Your cheeks flush, even though the disembodied voice can't see what exactly you're up to this morning. At the very least, F.R.I.D.A.Y. is a lot less nosy than Jarvis ever was. Although, if you're being honest, you liked him better before he turned into a robot.

"I'm assuming she'll be at the Medbay for a while?" The Widow replies, her mind no doubt full of the things she'll do to you to pass the time.

"Yes, it seems she'll be there for the next half hour."

"Good. Thank you, Friday."

The AI doesn't reply and you can practically imagine her making a swift exit out of the room, leaving you to face whatever it is that the redhead has come up with.

"y/n..." Natasha purrs, her breath hot against your ear. "I have an idea. Why don't we give Mommy a nice surprise, hmm? Don't you want to be her pretty welcome back gift?"

You're not sure what being Wanda's "welcome back gift" will entail, but you can't deny your curiosity about it. Especially since the witch has no idea what you and her girlfriend have been up to. You have no doubt she has her suspicions, she is a mind reader after all, but it'll still be nice to surprise her.

You agree before you even know what you're doing, and Natasha wastes no time in springing into action.

In a matter of minutes, you go from lying comfortably under the covers to being spread out on your back, your limbs tied to each corner of the bed. You're exposed, vulnerable, and you love every second of it.

Of course, Natasha isn't satisfied with that. No, to top off the pretty sight you make, she places a deep, dark red ball gag between your lips. You shouldn't be surprised since, after all, you did ask for it.

"There we go," the redhead hums appreciatively, her eyes taking in the beautiful sight. "Now, just sit tight, okay, detka? I'll be right back."

You whine instantly, but she pays no mind to you, quickly making her way out of the bedroom and going to look for Wanda. You're not exactly happy about being left alone yet, there's nothing you can do. All you can do is throw your head back in frustration and wait for your lovers to return.

You're not sure how much time goes by, although there's no doubt in your mind that Natasha does her best to draw out their return just to mess with you, but eventually, they make their way back to you.

The sound of the door opening makes you practically vibrate with excitement, your hips wiggling from side to side without thinking.

"Well, would you look at that," Wanda says as she steps further into the room. "Looks like someone was having fun without me."

Natasha follows her in, standing behind her and wrapping her arms around her waist. There's something so domestic about the action that makes your heart clench.

"I had to get her ready for you, darling," the redhead replies as her chin finds the other woman's shoulder. "She looks good, doesn't she?"

"She sure does. I take it you worked out your issues?"

"We came to an...agreement, yes. I couldn't let you have all the fun."

Wanda chuckles, the corners of her mouth quirking up into a fond smile. There's no mistaking the fire in her eyes, though, the desire simmering below the surface. "And you said I was crazy for wanting her to join us."

The Widow grumbles, clearly not quite ready to admit her girlfriend was right. "You're still not off the hook, you let her believe you cheated on me."

"When are you going to let that go?"

"I'm not sure, maybe you should make it up to me."

Natasha's eyes remain on you but Wanda turns around, silencing her girlfriend's complaints with a fiery kiss. All you can do is watch, feeling left out and far too involved at the same time. You're slowly getting used to their competitive antics.

Their kisses turn desperate in nothing short of a few seconds, leaving you far too desperate and needy while you squirm around on the bed. They take their sweet time getting back to you, though, instead letting their hands wander over each other's bodies.

You'd love to complain but you're still gagged so talking is pretty much impossible. More than that...you can't say you're not loving the view. It makes you feel a little dirty, like you're watching an intimate scene you shouldn't be, and it brings a rush unlike anything you've ever felt before.

They know, because of course they know, and your obvious arousal only motivates them to tease you.

Natasha moves first, expert hands reaching for the hem of Wanda's shirt and lifting it over her head in an instant. "I missed you."

"Are you talking to me or my boobs?" The witch replies with a perfectly raised eyebrow.

"I'm talking to all of you."

"Nice save, 'Tasha."

"Shut up."

There's something comforting about the scene in front of you, even as your frustration builds. You've been with them before, but it's different this time. You can feel the change in energy, the easy chemistry that flows between all of you now that Natasha isn't trying to push you away.

"Come on, I think we've teased our good girl long enough," Wanda says, taking the redhead's hand and leading her toward the bed. "Isn't that right, sweetheart? You're feeling a little frustrated, hmm?"

You nod desperately in response, tugging at the rope that holds you down. Your actions only make both of your lovers chuckle.

"Look at her, she's drenched and we haven't gotten started yet," Natasha comments, her eyes trailing up and down your body like a predator assessing its prey.

"I'm guessing this means training's going well."

"She's a quick learner. A bit bratty sometimes, though."

The way they talk about you as if you're not a part of the conversation has you clenching around pure air. It doesn't help that the Widow is so accurate in her assessment of you. You love being submissive, being under their control, but you can't deny how much fun it is to disobey. To push against the boundaries she's set for you, not to defy her but to tease her. Maybe even test her a little.

It's far too fun.

"Is that right, sweetheart?" Wanda asks, even though your body language makes it clear how correct Natasha is. "I thought you liked being our good girl. Because if you don't, well...you know what happens to naughty girls, don't you?"

Of course you know. It was one of the first things the redhead taught you. Sure, the rules and terms weren't too fleshed out yet since Natasha had wanted her girlfriend to be a part of the whole exchange, but she'd gone over most things with you. Rewards, punishments, hard limits, all that stuff.

You're unable to tell the witch that, though, thanks to the gag in your mouth. Your incoherent mumbles seem to entertain her for a few seconds while Natasha sneaks off toward their closet.

Wanda's chuckle cuts through the air. Your attempts at convincing her you've been good clearly amuse her. "I know, baby, I know you like being good. Otherwise, Nat wouldn't be so attached to you."

"I'm not attached," the redhead grumbles.

A month ago, her words would have made your heart drop into your stomach. Now, though, you know she's only playing a part. She has no problem telling you how she feels outside of a scene, but when you're playing, when you're being their pet, she's right back to being mean. Right back to degrading you and humiliating you until you're riding the edge of pleasure and pain.

"Keep telling yourself that, darling."

"Oh, I will."

Their banter is borderline comforting. You've loved spending time with Natasha, but this, being with them and seeing their personalities come together, this is where you thrive.

Well, it's not like you're doing much. Then again, they like you most when you're like this. Vulnerable, at their mercy, and so obviously loving every second of it.

Wanda climbs onto bed with you, crawling over your body until she's hovering over you with a gentle smile that steals all your worries away. "'Tasha's such a liar, isn't she, sweetheart? It's okay, let her act like she's the big bad."

You want to laugh, but it's a little hard when she's leaning down to pepper kisses all over your face. The action is far softer than what you were expecting and it makes your heart soar.

You were ready for a rougher training session, for a trial run meant to show you what you had been missing in the witch's absence. But this? This is really good too.

Wanda continues her loving assault on your skin, trailing kisses down your jaw and toward your neck. You tilt your head back in response, earning a soft giggle muffled against your skin, as she kisses and nibbles all up and down your throat. There's no doubt in your mind that she's littering your skin with hickies and noticeable marks, but you find you really don't mind it.

The witch steals your attention long enough for Natasha to gather a few supplies before making her way over to you. You feel her set a few things down next to you, but you don't get to see what they are. Not that you really mind considering how busy your mind is.

"Stop hogging her attention, that's not very fair."

"It's not my fault you left her so fuzzy-headed. Poor girl didn't even stand a chance, huh?"

You shake your head, a few muffled whines making their way out of you.

Natasha chuckles as she shifts onto her knees next to you. Her hands find their way between you and Wanda's bodies, teasing your skin as she explores the territory she's spent the past few days claiming.

"Oh, please. This is nothing. You should've seen the state she was in last night."

The reminder makes you squirm in your restraints, trying to get closer to them to no avail. You know how desperate you look, how absolutely needy you are, but you can't find it in yourself to care. This is what you had been waiting for. To be completely theirs. To surrender to them and accept everything they were willing to give you. Sure, it was intimidating and yet it felt incredibly right.

"Are you trying to make me jealous?" Wanda responds, working her way down your body, expertly avoiding the areas where her girlfriend is touching you.

"You deserve it. Wasn't this your fantasy?"

"Maybe. It was hers first, though. Isn't that right, detka?"

The change in topic makes you blush. It shouldn't be surprising to hear that the witch had already known about your feelings for her but it's still a little embarrassing. At least she seems to enjoy it.

You nod, your movements slightly frantic and no doubt fueled by the feeling of her lips on your flushed skin. She takes her time dragging her lips up and down your inner thighs as Natasha teases your hardening nipples.

"Such a good little slut. I bet you're already so fuzzy. Just want your cunt played with and nothing else." The redhead distracts you with her words, leaving you completely unprepared for Wanda's continued assault.

You don't hear the thrumming sound of the vibrator coming to life, but you sure feel it against your sensitive clit. Your whole body shudders in response as your hips buck in a desperate attempt to escape the overwhelming sensation.

Your reaction makes the witch laugh and she leans down to press a few more kisses to your thighs. "There you go, that's what I like to see."

Her words feel more like humiliation than praise and yet you can't find it in yourself to care. Not when it feels so good that it borders on painful.

"Excuse you, we were having a little chat." Natasha's tease is coupled with a firm grip in your hair as she tilts your head toward her. "I'll have to train you if you don't fix that attention span, pet."

"Be nice, Nat, it's not her fault she likes me more."

"God, you're such a brat, Maximoff." Her free hand leaves your body to land a sharp smack against Wanda's ass. "I'll put you in your place too, if I have to."

The witch hums in response, very clearly pushing herself back against the redhead's hand. "You know I'd enjoy it."

Natasha spanks her again and the sight has you bucking your hips faster as you search for more pleasure. You let out a string of whines, already feeling yourself on the edge of an orgasm. It's a little embarrassing how quickly you're reaching your limit but in your defense, you've been worked up ever since you woke up. You were bound to lose from the beginning.

"Don't tell me you want to cum already, sweetheart? We've barely gotten started."

You want to defend yourself, but your attempts are instant failures. Natasha seems to get off on how pathetic you sound, though.

"It's alright, kitten, why don't you go ahead and cum for me? Mommy hasn't earned her reward just yet."

Wanda opens her mouth to object but she doesn't get very far since the redhead goes right back to spanking her.

You're not used to seeing the witch in a slightly more submissive position. She always seem to straddle the border between being fully in control and immersed below Natasha's dominance. This change of pace is more than welcome, though.

The vibrator gets pushed harder against your sensitive clit and the pressure sends you over the edge almost instantly. You don't get a chance to warn them, all you can do is give in to the sudden pleasure as your body trembles beneath them.

They're both distracted by the sight of your orgasm crashing into you so suddenly. So beautifully.

"What a good girl," Natasha murmurs appreciatively. "You could learn a thing or two from her, Wands."

"Whatever." You miss the way the witch rolls her eyes since your eyes are more than a little blurry and there's a soft ringing in your ears. "It won't be my fault when she forgets her place, Daddy."

That earns her another spank, but she's too busy moving the vibrator away from your drenched cunt to care. You whine softly at the loss of contact even though you feel far too sensitive to take much more.

Apparently, you look as out of it as you feel because the older women take a few moments to let you catch your breath.

Wanda's hands gently stroke up and down your legs to keep you grounded while Natasha shifts closer, her hands reaching out to undo the ballgag. "How are you feeling, kotenok? Do you want to keep going?"

Your throat's a little dry, but you manage to form a reply. "I'm okay. Just need to catch my breath."

The Widow nods before reaching over to grab the bottled water on the nightstand. She helps you take a few sips of water while Wanda continues to caress your skin, both giving you as much time as you need to recover. It's such a small thing and yet it's a reminder of why you're so attached to them. Why you need them more and more with every day that goes by.

Your relationship with them might have had a bit of a rough start, but you couldn't imagine a better outcome. Couldn't imagine two better people to surrender your heart to.

"Someone's in a romantic mood," Wanda pipes up with a soft smile.

Her words cause an instant response in you and you feel your face grow warmer by the second. "Why are you in my mind right now?"

"Because your thoughts about me are so loud," she replies almost instantly. "Don't look so embarrassed, detka, I think it's cute."

"Shut up," you mumble, momentarily forgetting where you are and what you're in the middle of doing.

Wanda's smile turns slightly dark and her hand comes down against your thigh before you can even think about what you did wrong. "Where'd your manners go, huh?"

The sensation makes you shiver, but Natasha reaches a hand out to stop the witch from smacking your thigh again. "Time out, darling. I don't think we're quite ready to keep going."

You want to argue with her and yet you make no real effort to. As much as you might want to keep going, you can't deny how overwhelming it all was...and how desperate you are for some cuddles.

"Sorry," you mumble.

Wanda instantly shushes you as she uses her magic to undo the restraints keeping you tied down. "Nonsense, you have nothing to apologize for."

The second your limbs are free, Natasha's hands are on you again. This time, though, she merely maneuvers you onto your side so she's able to slide in behind you. The second her arms wrap around your waist, your shoulders let go of the tension they've been holding. 

Wanda wastes no time in joining the two of you, laying down in front of you and reaching up to play with your hair. "Just relax, we have all day to pick up where we left off."

"Don't rush her, little witch."

Natasha's words make you chuckle and you lean forward until you're practically buried in the witch's chest. "I'm okay, guys. I don't break easily."

A beat of silence goes by as they allow you to soak in the afterglow, in the feeling of their embrace.

But the Widow really can't help herself.

"Are you sure? Maybe we should test that out."

Her words are a tease, but none of you can deny your curiosity...or your arousal.

Needless to say, you spend most of the day tangled up in their bed.

Your bed.

With the two women who mean the absolute world to you.

[hayateart]

'Labyrinth' inspired Moshang&Bingqiu AU idea

So, while driving home from work I had this thought that SY would absolutely swore off Airplane to the Goblin King and then regret it immediately. And here we are.

In this AU Airplane is a fairly successful author of multiple most clichéd online novels you can imagine. Since they are fairly well written and full of fan service, he managed to secure a faithful audience. He's not especially famous but he earns enough to pay the bills.

Shen Yuan again is one of his readers. He finds the characters very compelling and though he hates the clichés, he can admit Airplane has a talent to combine them in an interesring, even if predictable, way. He will never admit to liking the fanservice and copious papapa under the threat of torture.

In this AU they know each other irl. SY still pays to read Airplane's novels because 'they are not friends and he will not accept them for free'. Airplane is happy with that because SY should 'obviously pay for his hard work, it is a sign of appreciation.' They both know that if SY only asked, Airplane would let him read everything, even the drafts for free.

The newest novel that Airplane writes is the Labyrinth rip off with the demon Ice King, Mobei Jun, who kidnaps a princess after she is rejected by her own father. MBJ imprisons her in his castle in the middle the labyrinth full of monsters, and traps, and riddles. A valiant, dashing hero sets to her rescue. On his way he is joined by a young fellow with a heart of gold. They soon become blood brothers, and while the novel is not yet finished it is clear they will rescue the princess.

'And let me guess,' Shen Yuan says, 'the young fellow turns out to be the real heir to the throne in the Labyrinth castle.' He keans it as a joke. Airplane's face clearly says it is exactly so.

Which prompts SY to reject Airplane and angrily disown him the same way the princess' father did in the story. Cue MBJ stepping through a portal and tossing Airplane back to his castle.

SY:

Of course, he needs to go and rescue his stupid not-friend. The police will never believe him he did not kill the idiot out of frustration!

Fortunately, the portal that leads to the Labyrinth in Airplane's novel was inspired by two twisted trees that grew with joined branches in the park they both like to visit. SY recites the incantation and the portal impossibly works! He is in the Labyrinth!

SY meets Luo Binghe, the young fellow/true heir to the throne and hopes he will help him save Airplane.

Here's the catch. The world was created from Airplane's story and follows the rules the story does. And that means both Airplane and SY must follow them as well if they want the story to progress and save the princess. As hopefully informed by their new systems.

SY needs to play the part of the hero. He is cool, collected and should not be gushing over interesting monsters and intricate riddles.

Airplane is the princess, damsel in distress. And he is distressed, alright! He has been kidnapped, hit and locked in an inescapable labyrinth. He cries a lot and is scared shitless. But also pretty horny cuz, you know, MBJ. That man is walking perfection.

Airplane can't help it. He is also pretty annoyed because while all his ideas about the castle and the labyrinth sounded good on paper in practice they simply... aren't? S0 he makes adjustments. In real time, without realising it he orders both the staff and MBJ around to make everything better.

Back to the systems - there is no punishment if our boys don't comply and play their roles, but the 'plot' systems require simply does not progress. What does change is the environment and the characters they interact with - especially MBJ and LBH. They are developing more and more, the more time they spend with their humans. Instead of being cookie cut villain and hero, they become complex, emotional, unpredictable, and by the time SY finally reaches the castle, undeniably real people.

Both Airplane and SY know that the moment SY 'rescues' the princess and LBH takes over the throne, the story will end. That's what the sytem says. And when the story ends, characters and their entire world will have no reason to exist any more. They can't allow this to happen to people they grew to care for and even love!

So, there is no rescuing, they decide. Whatever created this world clearly likes Airplane's story telling enough to have them to role play it. They can make new plays if it means they can stay with their partners. And so, Airplane marries MBJ and they both rule the Labyrinth together while SY and LBH play the role of heroes and try to stop them. Sometimes they lose. Sometimes they win but get overthrown again. Sometimes, they win and become the villains themselves, and ot is MBJ, and his husband that need to defeat the evil. Sometimes they have a beach episode.

The possibilities are endless and Airplane has planty of stories to tell. Maybe not all clichés are bad after all.

[waynes-multiverse]

Glad to hear the tête-à-tête with Ted went as expected 😂

Let's dive into this wonderful comment! 🤍

Seeing a glimpse of their growing friendship in the first flashback scene was somehow both sweet and bittersweet, but of course, there’s also that hint of “more” on Beau’s side that he’s desperately trying to hide. 😅

Definitely bittersweet 😭 Makes you really feel for Beau. What an incredibly tough situation to be in, honestly 💔

Loll not the dad voice! So sweet that he tried to “cut her off,” even though he ultimately wasn’t successful. Always more shit hitting the fan, isn’t there? 😬

Yup, and they both know it. They've picked a very hard job 😅 But it's hard to resist the dad voice! But there's understanding on both sides. Beau, for sure, knows what it's like to be obsessed with a case 🙈

That’s what makes their situation all the harder – the fact that she’s in law enforcement as well and understands this aspect of things all too well. 😰 It’s truly amazing that she and Beau were able to get past this hurdle and actually fall in love. It shows how forgiving she is, I think.

Yes, this 💯 And I definitely see her as forgiving. She knows who the real enemy is, and it ain't Beau. She knows even good people can make mistakes. Part of the job. Tragic, but it happens 🤷‍♀️ Plus, I think considering her own hidden feelings for him, she had an easier time seeing past all that.

HELP. I’m deceased. 🤣🤣🤣 I was smirking/laughing throughout this entire exchange, but this in particular took me out! Ted has nothing but audacity. But at least the reader had Beau’s back on this one. 😆

Glad that exchange made you laugh! I honeslty love writing those ridiculous scenes. This one reminded me somewhat of Ben vs. Colt in Rehab 😂

I imagine Ted as some stuck-up, somewhat bougeois prosecutor that both Beau and Randy talked a lot of shit about behind his back. So Beau's not only offended she dated him for himself, but probably for Randy too 🤣

Ahh, nice that they had this heart to heart, and also this revelation. But while of course that really does nothing to soothe Beau’s guilt, at least it allows her to forgive him.

I saw this mostly as an attempt to soothe Beau's guilt. You can tell she was still a bit judgmental in her thoughts à la "Well, I, the genius, wouldn't have done it/seen right through it, but oh well, guess not everyone can be me..." 😅

Eventually, she forgave him either way because she knows the risks and dangers of the job and that not every decision you make will be the right one in the end

LMAO Oh Beau. You’re right, it is funny to imagine him saying “slimy coyote.” 😂 Bet this is what he wishes would happen to Ted:

Oh, he for sure wanted to Wile E. Coyote Ted 🤣🤣

Oooh what a declaration that is from her! The fact that Beau’s the best she’s ever had, even including Randy, I’m assuming. 😅

Well, there's two options lol, right? Either she only said it to make him feel better, knowing his insecurities. Or, it's fully true and she decided to go for it. I honestly think it's the second. Beau seems to match her energy a bit better than Randy probably did 😂🔥

And Beau, sweet Beau, that was a beautiful rom-com worthy line right there. 💗

Ikr? Imagine Carla hearing that! She'd be livid 😂😂 But I enjoyed playing with the lines there of "first loves" vs. "true loves"

Ooh shit, Diane is certainly up to something. 😬😬

Oh boy, we all should be concerned! She might have some (deathly) surprises up her sleeve... 👀

Polaris – Chapter 7

Series Summary: When Beau Arlen moved to Montana, he left behind a past he wasn’t proud of. But when a series of murders requires the FBI’s help, Sheriff Arlen‘s ghosts come back to haunt him one by one. With a wrong turn waiting at every crossroads, it’s hard to make the right choices and find his way back home – back to you.

Pairing: Beau Arlen x FBI Agent!Reader

Warnings: 18+, fluff, angst, serial killer, mentions of cartels, grief, smut

Word Count: 7.2k

A/N: The chapter where we find out why Ted is on Beau's punch list aka The One With Ted... 😂

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Chapter 7: Storm Coming

May 2021

“I sold the house,” you said, your voice ripping through the quiet of the car during another starry stake-out night.

“So you’re homeless now?” Beau joked and peeled his eyes away from the front window view and glanced at you from the driver’s seat, his hand resting on the steering wheel, the other one in his lap.

You chuckled. “Yup, but I got a hot plate now in my motel room and one of those Italian moka pots. So, you know, some would say I’m living the dream.”

Beau snorted in amusement before he pensively rubbed his mouth with two fingers. “You didn’t have to sell the house, you know?”

You heaved a sigh. “Yeah, I kinda did, though… I didn’t like staying in there anymore. It’s just… too many memories, I guess? ‘Sides, I’m always down here anyways. Actually considering moving here.”

Beau frowned at you, his nose scrunching. “What, to Mexico? Are you nuts? Over my dead body are you doin’ that.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t know you had a say in it,” you retorted rather playfully and put a shocked palm on your chest in mock.

“Damn right, I do,” Beau scoffed his reply with a teasing grin. “Who do you think is lookin’ out for ya, huh?”

“Wait, you think you are? That’s what you believe?” You snorted a laugh, entering banter territory with him.

It was usually how you passed your time during most of these stake-outs – laughing, teasing, and the occasional talking about your problems. You’d never known Beau like this before. He was your husband’s best friend, but he had been more of an acquaintance to you. Now, after months of spending close to every day together, it felt like he was your best friend. Since Randy’s death, he’d been there for you, even if it was mostly out of guilt.

“Yeah, what d’you think?” Beau countered challengingly.

“Oh sweetie, you’re not looking after me. I’m looking after you,” you stated confidently. The smile that twitched on his lips seemed to actually agree with you. “Out of the two of us, you’re the way bigger wreck. Some would even think it’s your husband who died, not mine.”

“Are you calling me a girl?”

You coolly shrugged your shoulders. “Either I’m calling you a girl, or I’m calling you gay. I’ll let you pick.”

Laughingly, Beau scoffed and muttered, “You wish I was gay.”

However, you still heard his mumbled reply and responded, “Actually, I wish you were a girl and that I was gay.”

Beau stared at you and leaned back against the door for a better view of you, his brow raised and the corners of his lips drawn slightly upwards in amusement. “What are we even talking about?”

“I don’t know,” you admitted with a shake of your head.

The two of you then burst into loud laughter that filled the entire SUV. For a moment, all your sorrows and hardships seemed to be forgotten, carried away to the desert with the nightly breeze. Then, the familiar and comfortable quiet took over the car again.

“I’m moving out of the house, too,” Beau said, his eyes focusing on the barren landscape and desolate road ahead. “I’m giving it to Carla. I mean, she didn’t ask me to. God knows she can take care of herself… But I want Emily to keep living in the home she grew up in, you know?”

“Yeah, I get that. That’s really nice,” you said quietly. Your soft smile then morphed to a grin. “So you’re homeless, too, huh?”

Beau laughed, throwing his head back into the seat. “Yeah, guess I am. Maybe we should live together?” he suggested half-jokingly.

“Like roommates? Ugh, God no!” You scoffed in abhorrence. “We’re way too old for that. You’re over forty, I’m barely in my thirties–”

“You do know I know exactly how old you really are, right?” Beau teased.

You decided to ignore that jab and continued, unbothered. “It would be seriously so sad. The Widow And The Divorcee – sounds like the worst sitcom on the planet. ‘Sides, it’d be super awkward if one of us starts dating again.”

“Fine, maybe you’re right,” Beau relented with a soft chuckle and then glanced at you sideways. His heart gained speed in his chest. “You ever think about it? Dating? Gettin’ out there again? Been nine months.”

You twitched your shoulders, choosing not to look at him. “I don’t know. Is nine months long enough after your husband died?”

Thoughtfully, Beau licked his lips and let out a small sigh. “I don’t think there’s a timeline, or a right and wrong. I just think it’s one of those things that when you’re ready, you’re ready.”
 “Well, consider me not ready then, I guess,” you replied honestly.

“Alright,” Beau accepted, bobbing his head. “But I still think you should try again at some point, you know? You shouldn’t be alone for the rest of your life. First of all, it’d be a total waste, ‘cause, I mean, look at you. And secondly, you’re barely in your thirties, after all,” he repeated your earlier joke with a soft grin.

You felt the heat creep to your cheeks in the moonlight. As you looked at him, you could see his smirk, making you laugh. “Noted,” you replied and were thankful for his pep talk. “I mean, there’ve been offers.”

Beau quirked one eyebrow, a hard lump forming in his throat as his chest tightened. “Offers? Like plural? Who?”

“Well, just some of the guys from our team. Cody, Jordan, Ted…” you named a few. “Also a few locals. Remember those guys we played pool with a few weeks ago? Two of ‘em asked for my number.”

“Huh. That is plural…” Beau pursed his lips and couldn’t keep his brow from wrinkling, his grip on the steering wheel stiffening. “Well, you know, when you’re not ready, you’re not ready. Shouldn’t force anything. No rush, darlin’.”

Smooth, Beau thought wryly with an internal sigh.

“Right, I know,” you agreed. “I do miss sex, though. Getting kinda bored of my vibrator.”

Beau choked on his spit. “Jesus…”

“What? Am I not allowed to talk about it? I thought we were friends. You’re supposed to care about my well-being and happiness,” you argued, frowning.

“I do care. Just… Can we please not talk about that?” he begged and exhaled a deep breath, pinching the bridge of his freckled nose.

“Fine. I miss having women around…” You shrugged and muttered, “Didn’t peg you for a prude.”

“Okay, let’s just get one thing straight – I’m not a prude,” he clarified in defense, his cheeks turning a deep shade of red.

“Alright, also noted,” you quipped, smirking to yourself. Sometimes you enjoyed making him a little uncomfortable. His blushed cheeks could be quite cute. “What about you? Have you still not talked to Carla? I’m sure you can win her back if you tried. You’re a lot better now.”

“Well, thank you for the, uh, vote of confidence, but it’s really over, I guess. We just talked about all the divorce proceedings last time. I actually think she started datin’ someone recently,” Beau told you.

Your eyebrows rose in surprise. “Really? Who?”

“I guess some rich tech guy. I don’t know…”

“And you’re good with that?” you questioned in disbelief.

Beau scoffed a humorless chuckle, shaking his head. “Ha, no… But what am I gonna do? Kinda shot myself in the leg with that one. I don’t blame her for moving on. It’s been over for months now.”

“That sucks. I’m sorry. I was kinda rooting for you two,” you admitted.

“Well, thanks, but we weren’t you and Randy,” Beau said. It made your brow knit.

“What d’you mean?”

“C’mon, you know what I mean,” Beau replied as if it were obvious, but you still shook your head. He sighed. “You and Randy would’ve never gotten divorced.”

“You don’t know that.” Honestly, you doubted it yourself, but you were too curious to find out what he meant by his statement.

“I do know that,” Beau insisted with certainty. “You guys had that once-in-a-lifetime kinda love. The kind that made other people jealous, you know? Your love made every other relationship pale in comparison. I always figured once the honeymoon phase was over, you’d settle and be less vomit-inducing, but that never happened. Me and Carla were never like that. Not even in the beginning,” he explained, a small, soft smile shaping his mouth. “You guys were special. True love. The stuff folk singers write cheesy songs about.”

“I guess we were,” you mused quietly, the memory of everything Randy was to you causing tears to well in your eyes.

“Hey, I’m sorry,” Beau apologized as soon as he noticed the sadness on your face. He reached his hand over to your side and squeezed your thigh gently, just above the knee.

“No, it’s alright,” you brushed him off, swallowing your heartache down. “But hey, if Carla wasn’t your once-in-a-lifetime, maybe she’s still out there. You just haven’t found her yet. I mean, that’s kinda a nice outlook, right?”

Licking his lips, he bobbed his head, his gaze focused on his hand on the steering wheel. “I doubt it.”

“Why? Never say never,” you said encouragingly.

“Well, maybe I already met her, and it’s too late now,” he replied. It sounded more like an actual fact than a hypothetical theory. You found yourself wondering.

“What, did you have like an old college flame? The one that got away?” you teased lightheartedly, but he only grew more serious.

“Somethin’ like that,” he replied vaguely, rubbing his mouth with his fingers.

“Look her up on Facebook. Maybe she’s divorced, too. You could reconnect or something,” you suggested. He nodded but didn’t seem too convinced. You then shot him a hesitant glance from your periphery. “So, now that Carla’s moving on, are you gonna start dating now, too? Jump back into the game?”

“I guess so… Why?” A part of him was curious to hear your response, while another part reminded him that his desired answer was only wishful thinking – and completely insane on top of that.

“That fiery brunette lady at the bar last night seemed really interested in you. Maybe you should hook up with her if she’s there again tomorrow night?” you proposed in earnest.

Wide-eyed, Beau blinked at you in incredulity – like you had lost your goddamn mind. “I’m sorry, what?! Hook up? Who are you right now? Are you tryin’ to set me up?”

“Yeah.” You shrugged simply, not seeing what the big problem was. “Don’t look at me like I’m trying to convince you to get a tramp stamp above your ass with a dirty needle. I’m just trying to be a good wingman… woman. Randy would’ve tried to set you up, right?”

Beau sighed frustratedly. “Yeah, he would’ve,” he admitted in a grumble and then barked, slightly more furious, “But you ain’t him. And I don’t want you to be, so stop it, alright?”

“Geez, I’m sorry. I was just trying to help,” you mumbled defensively and raised your hands in surrender, unsuccessfully hiding your upset over his reaction. He felt guilty when he saw the small pout on your face.

Beau rubbed his forehead before dragging his palm over the rest of his face. “I know. I’m sorry, too,” he said and let out a deep breath through his nose. “I just-… I guess I’m just waiting, okay?”

“Waiting for what?”

Beau squeezed his eyes shut for a moment. For you to be ready, he wanted to say. But he couldn’t very well do that now, could he?

“For Christ’s sake, Y/N…” he breathed exhaustively. That was all he managed to say. With his palm on his mouth, he rested his elbow against the car door, gazing out the window.

“Why are you so upset?” you asked, your brow woven with confusion.

“Switch subjects,” he requested.

It was a phrase the two of you used whenever you didn’t want to talk about something anymore. When someone pushed too much, or the topic got too emotional and you needed a break. The only rule was to always respect the request, so you had no choice but to let it go after that.

“The Texans game sucked last night, huh?”

That elicited a snort from him, and he looked at you with a warm smile. “Yeah, goddamn awful.”

“How many times are you gonna watch those?”

Beau’s question broke your concentration. Your gaze snapped from your laptop screen to his concerned face. You’d been rewatching the victims’ videos for four days straight now, trying to find more clues. Maybe even something that directly led to Diane.

“I keep thinking maybe I’ve missed something,” you mumbled and stared back into the computer, your teeth gnawing on the pen between your lips. “It’s 48 hours each. We have twenty-four victims. I keep watching them sped-up to get through them all, but maybe I should slow ‘em down. I mean, I’ve watched them full-length, normal speed a couple of times before, but maybe I should watch ‘em even slower and really focus, you know? There’s gotta be something there…”

Bobbing his head worriedly, Beau pursed his lips and took a scan of your desk. He counted eight empty cups of coffee and five cans of energy drinks. There were bags under your red eyes and your hands were jittering. He knew you hadn’t slept a lot. He tried to hold you in his arms, but as soon as he dozed off, you snuck out and went back to work.

Beau shut the laptop. “You’re cut off.”

“Hey!”

“Y/N, you need to sleep. Just look at you, darlin’. This obsession isn’t healthy. I’m taking you home,” he declared sternly, ignoring your protests. You were pretty sure he had used his dad voice, too.

“Y/N, you need to sleep. Just look at you, darlin’. This obsession isn’t healthy. I’m taking you home,” he declared sternly, ignoring your protests. You were pretty sure he had used his dad voice, too.

“I need that woman in prison, Beau.”

“You startin’ to sound like Jenny…” Beau quipped under his breath.

“We’re running out of time. There’s only one day left before the next victim drops,” you stated and tried your best to keep your voice steady as it broke off towards the end.

“I know.” Beau clasped your shoulder and squeezed gently. “And we’ll get her. I promise you. But you’re no good to any of us if you’re exhausted and losing it right now.” You nodded and rose from your chair. He wrapped his arms around you and pulled you flush against him, kissing the top of your head affectionately. “How about some dinner, huh?”

You grinned warmly. “What, like a second date?”

“Exactly like a second date,” Beau said and mirrored your grin. He was making up for lost time as best as he could, even if it meant taking you out every night for the rest of your life.

Your phone buzzed on the table, your brow quirking at the number. Eagerly, you picked up and wound yourself out of Beau’s embrace. “Special Agent Y/L/N… Uh-huh… Great, thank you.”

Beau pursed his lips. “We’re not going out, are we?”

“‘fraid not, Sheriff.” You shook your head and chuckled at his groan. “That was IT. They’re finally done and sending over the IP addresses.”

“Alright, guess I’m gettin’ take out,” Beau announced with a small sigh, knowing the two of you were in for a long night – and not the one he had planned.

You smiled and pecked his lips. “Thank you.”

August 2020

Beau’s heart thudded frantically in his chest as his knuckles tapped your front door in the early evening. The sky was a color spectacle full of azures, indigos, and apricots as the summer sun slowly set. His boots only stood on that same spot not even twenty-four hours ago. It still felt like a surreal nightmare he couldn’t escape, his hope to wake up soon a ceaseless prayer.

He’d stayed with you all night, held you as you cried yourself to sleep. Beau awoke on your couch with your head resting on his thigh and a strange feeling in his gut. He couldn’t help but think you were beautiful, even in a state of utter turmoil, shoving said thought swiftly down into the depths of his darkening soul.

But he’d spent all day thinking of you, plagued by guilt and torn by misplaced feelings. He’d sat through hours of interviews, going over and over the events of last night till his mind spun like a hamster wheel. He was forced to fill out forms, sign documents, and recount each unforgettable step. He’d listened to lectures, sermons, and admonitions. His captain gave him a tongue-lashing that sounded like mere white noise before he was sent home with a suspension – investigation pending.

Only he didn’t go home; he came here.

At home, his wife and daughter were waiting – for a husband, a father, an explanation. None of which he could provide. Beau wanted to wallow in his grief, his guilt, his loss in peace. He lacked the strength to be strong, play pretend, and act above it all. He wanted to be punished, sent to perdition, and held accountable for his lapse of judgment. A suspension wasn’t good enough. It barely patched the abysmal gaps in his heart.

The only suitable punishment was you. Witnessing your suffering was his personally crafted hell. You were the broken remnants of his destruction, the shattered pieces of his idiocy, the explosive fallout of his arrogance.

And you hadn’t answered a single call or text of his. His torturous worry was part of his penalty.

Consecutive rings of the doorbell and incessant knocks remained unanswered. For a moment, Beau rested his forehead on the door. He felt helpless and clueless all the same. You had friends and family to take care of you, probably better suited and closer to you than him, but somehow he felt burdened with the responsibility.

He took the spare key out of the left-side planter and barged inside. The ground floor was deserted. Last night’s uneaten dinner still sat untouched on the table. It felt like a whiplash against his bare back.

Bolting upstairs, he found the door to the main bedroom ajar. He pried it open slowly, the sight of you delivering his second lashing. This time, he felt the sting burning through to his heart.

He found you curled up in bed, on your husband’s side, in your husband’s t-shirt, with your wedding photo album clutched tightly in your arms. His breath halted for a moment; his heart did, too.

Did he do this? Was this all his fault?

“Y/N?” His deep voice was quiet and careful as he spoke. Slowly, he walked over to your side and knelt down in front of you. “Darlin’, hey… You need to get up. Eat somethin’.”

Beau was sure you hadn’t moved all day. He didn’t ask you if you were alright or how you were doing. The question seemed insulting. The answer was obvious. Your phone was lighting up on the nightstand with a million unanswered calls and messages, his own among them. Your beautiful eyes were vacant, red, and empty. You didn’t cry, however, not anymore. You were dehydrated and all out of tears at this point. You never looked at him, not even a glance.

“I want him back,” you whispered, your voice coarse from screaming, crying, cursing.

Beau nodded, licking his lips. Caringly, he caressed your head, brushing a few strands of messy hair out of your face. “I know. I hope you know I’d trade places with him in a heartbeat if I could.”

For the first time your eyes found his. Your gaze was scathing and piercing. “Tell me what happened.”

Beau let out a harrowing sigh. He had rehashed the story all day long. He wasn’t sure if he could do it again, but maybe this version was the most important one. Who deserved the truth more than you?

“Y/N, I don’t think this is such a good idea, darlin’,” Beau tried to reason, mostly for himself. He wanted to hold on a little longer, the idea of you hating him tearing him apart. He wanted to spare himself the additional guilt, the anger, the hurt.

“Tell me or leave.”

Beau closed his eyes and nodded hesitantly. “Okay, alright.” He took a deep breath and settled down on the floor, leaning his back against the wooden bedside table. “We were closing in on that biker gang. Few murders, arms trafficking, drug deals… You know the drill. I’m sure Ra-… he filled you in.”

Not that long ago, Randy had asked you for advise on the case. You gave him your contacts in the DEA and a number to a CI.

“Your DEA guy warned us. Said the gang was working closely with the cartel down in Juárez. But I had my own intel that only a few members were meeting at the Hatcher warehouse in MacGregor. It was supposed to be a small deal. But I figured it could lead to bigger things if we shook ‘em down, you know? But fuckin’ Harper told us no like usual. Refused to give us back-up. Said to pass the case on to the DEA. But Randy and I worked our asses off the last few months to get even this far. We were so close. I didn’t wanna let go… So, I suggested we go in anyways. It was supposed to be only three guys from the gang. I knew if we were smart about it, we could easily take ‘em down, you know?”

You rolled onto your back and propped yourself up on the bed. Shaking your head, you chuckled humorlessly and grabbed the half-empty whiskey bottle from the nightstand. “‘Course you did. It’s not the first time you broke a rule or shit on authority.”

“Yeah, and I was right every single time,” Beau bit. His anger wasn’t geared at you but at himself. He knew he was in the wrong. He flew too close to the sun and got burned. But he still felt the need to defend himself, even if it was unjustified.

His gaze drifted to the dresser and the patch of wall above it, decorated with photographic evidence of yours and his partner’s life together. The wedding, dates, vacations, holidays – it was all there. Beau had watched it all, start to finish. He wished he could rewind the tape and cut off the ending, all so you could have the love of your life back. He didn’t know yet your cassette had a B-side. One that featured him.

“You got fucking lucky, is all,” you scoffed.

“Randy backed me up on it!”

“Of course he did! You’re his fucking partner! He would’ve followed you anywhere if you asked him to,” you snapped, shaking your head. You gulped down some whiskey then and locked your jaw before you met his eyes again with a glare. “And? What happened then, Beau? Was it only three guys?”

“No.” The word was almost inaudible. He shook his head with a harsh swallow. “They were meetin’ with a few cartel members there. My intel never said anything about that. When we were inside and saw what was really going on, it was already too late to get out. They made us, bullets started flyin’… They got a hold of Randy and… shot him.” A tear escaped down his cheek, his throat closing as he tried to choke out the last bit of the story. “I had to leave him there. I barely got out myself. I’m sorry, Y/N. I know this is on me.”

Your lips twitched with a bitter smile. You didn’t look at him, just rubbed your tired eyes. “Damn right it is. Get out.”

“Y/N, please–”

The storm in your eyes made him stop as you met his gaze, his useless apologies becoming stuck in his throat. “I said, get out. I ain’t asking a third time. You’re the reason my husband is dead. You’re the reason I don’t even have a body to bury. So, get the fuck out.” Like a snakebite, your words were targeted, sharp, and venomous.

You finally got out of bed and prodded towards the en-suite bathroom. The truth had been what you needed to switch the fighter inside of you back on. You knew what you wanted to do then and were determined to get it.

“Y/N–”

“Do you know what cartels do to bodies, Beau? To rivals? To law enforcement? ‘Cause I just came back from a job where we found forty-eight decapitated bodies, left to rot inside the walls of a house. Still haven’t found the heads yet. Probably never will,” you told him and stared him dead into his dark green eyes. “Ever seen that before, desperado?”

Beau bit his lips, averting his gaze. “No.”

“Yeah, didn’t think so.” You scoffed and crossed your arms over your chest. “Now, leave. Please. Get the fuck outta my house. I don’t wanna see you anymore,” you spat and slammed the bathroom door shut behind you.

Beau then grabbed the whiskey bottle you’d left and walked out of your home. It was the first of many nights he started to drink himself to sleep, but at least it kept the nightmares temporarily at bay.

“Theodore.” Beau forced a bright smile onto his freckle-dusted face, although the stiff features could barely fool anyone. At least, they wouldn’t have fooled you.

“Beau, good to see you again.” Ted smiled and did a more convincing job of it as he waltzed into Lewis and Clark County’s Sheriff’s Department. It almost seemed like he meant it. “I was surprised when Y/N told me you got a gig as a sheriff here.”

Translation: I was surprised because you were such a fuck-up back in Texas.

Beau feigned a chuckle. “Yeah, I bet you were.”

“Hopefully, you’re givin’ the DAs here less headaches,” Ted jabbed under the disguise of friendly banter. He then turned to Jenny with that same shit-eating grin. “Your sheriff is a little troublemaker.”

Sweet Lord, Beau wanted to whack the bastard.

The blonde deputy coolly brushed the accusation off. She shrugged and playfully nudged Beau’s arm, sending the Texan attorney a smile. “I prefer him that way.”

“Hey, there she is!” Beau smiled with frazzled relief when you finally hurried into the station. A little while longer, and he definitely would’ve thrown a punch.

“Hey, Ted. Thanks for coming. How was your flight?” You greeted him with a warm smile and a quick hug.

“Good, good. Never been to Montana before,” Ted said and then let his eyes wander up and down your body. “Look at you. You look great!”

“Oh, uh, thanks.” You subtly cleared your throat. You could physically feel Beau stiffen next to you. In your periphery, you could spy a tightly clenched jaw and a few strained muscles in his neck.

“Mind if Y/N and I borrow your office, Sheriff Arlen?” Ted asked and emphasized his title. “Considering the nature of this case, I’d like to keep it as private as possible. Don’t want anything to reach Ms. Newton’s ears.”

Your hunch had been right. Several IP addresses pointed to Diane, some to public Wi-Fi’s. You and the team still needed to connect her to the other states and find out where she’d been staying there, but you could definitely trace some posts in recent weeks to her home in Montana. It was enough for an arrest warrant, but you still needed more evidence.

Additionally, it had all come together a little too easily. It seemed like a giant trap you were walking into. Diane wanted to be caught. But why?

“Why don’t I just join you? I’m sure Y/N here doesn’t mind,” Beau suggested with a tight smile and then snaked his arm around your middle, pulling you closer. “Ain’t that right, darlin’?”

Internally, you sighed a little at his obvious territorial pissing, but you were willing to throw him a bone. You stretched up and claimed his plump lips in a fervent kiss that Beau only all too happily reciprocated.

“Not at all, Sheriff. You know I always appreciate your input,” you replied with a dirty smirk at the double entendre.

As Beau looked down at you, he mouthed ‘God, I love you.’ You grinned in response.

“Happy to give it to you,” he said with another sweet peck of your lips. A triumphant and slightly cocky grin graced his lips as he looked back at Ted.

“Oh, so you two are back together?” Ted realized, his brow rising to his hairline. He’d never seen you two together but certainly had heard the whispers down in Mexico from your old task force. He’d been the DA for those cases as well. You’d never explicitly told him about you and Beau, though, even when he had tried to pry a little on those dates you went on.

“Well, I’m a hard one to quit,” Beau quipped almost proudly, like a peacock showing off his fan of feathers.

“As are cigarettes and many other vices,” Ted shot back with the same stupidly proud grin.

Translation: You’re an ass. And a failure. She deserves so much better. I’m ‘better.’ But maybe that didn't need a translation.

Beau should’ve known it was hard to out-argue a lawyer and ground his jaw. After all, he’d been married to one for many years.

You, on the other hand, shared a wide-eyed and baffled look with Jenny that bordered on amusement. You had almost gasped in shock. You hadn’t expected such a fiery reply, sure the men would stick to their Southern manners. But, oh well, everyone’s packing in fucking Texas…

“Why don’t you two go ahead? I’ll join you in a minute,” you ordered more than you earnestly proposed and shooed the two men down the hallway towards Beau’s office.

“Sure it’s such a good idea to lock those two in a room alone?” Jenny teased, her eyes lingering a little too long on Ted’s perfectly formed ass as he sauntered down the hall.

You couldn’t blame her. You had checked out Beau’s in the same breath.

“It’s only for a short time. They’re not gonna kill each other,” you laughed it off. Jenny arched a doubtful eyebrow at you. “That quickly,” you added a correction. “So, what did I miss here?” you asked and nodded towards the two men, closing the door to Beau’s office behind them. All you heard last was them talking about the recent Texans game.

Ugh, of course, they’d end up by football…

“Dick measuring contest,” Jenny supplied wryly.

“Ah, figured…”

“Well, better them than to lock Agent Y/L/N and the sheriff into the same room,” Poppernak joked with a soft chuckle as he appeared next to you and Jenny, chiming into the conversation.

You gaped at him in mock-shock. “Mo! I can’t believe you just said that,” you chided playfully.

His cheeks turned crimson red. “I’m sorry, Special Agent Y/L/N,” he apologized in a fluster.

“Mo, I told you to call me by my first name,” you reminded him with a smile. “Or I’m gonna have to start giving you silly names like Beau does.”

“Oh, I love Sheriff Arlen’s nicknames,” he quickly defended with a nervous laugh.

“Do you?” Jenny tilted her head with a questioning eyebrow.

He shrugged. “They’re clever.”

August 2020

“Old Fashioned,” you ordered with a look at the bartender, feeling Beau’s confused eyes and crinkled brow wander up to you. “Couldn’t have picked a nicer bar, huh? This place is a dump. You know that, right?”

Beau clicked his tongue and took a sip from his Ranch Water. “What are you doing here? Thought you never wanted to see me again.”

You let out a small sigh but didn’t meet his gaze. “Carla called me. Your family is worried about you.”

“I didn’t tell her where I was. How did you know I was here?”

“I didn’t. Carla said you haven’t been home in three days. Figured you’d gone on a bender. This is the fifth cop bar I checked out. Finally got lucky,” you said and thanked the bartender as he placed his drink in front of you. You settled down on a barstool next to Beau.

“Quite the effort. Sure I’m worth it?”

Your tongue swept over your lips. “Beau, look at me.” His forest-green eyes found yours upon your soft plea. “I’m sorry I put all that shit on you. It wasn’t fair. It’s not your fault, okay? His death isn’t on you. I know you loved him like a brother.”

“I did.” Beau took another sip of his drink. “But it is my fault. I was reckless and arrogant. We both know it.”

“It was a set-up, alright? I talked to my DEA contact. Cody said your intel was wrong. They knew you and Randy were closing in on them. They wanted to get rid of you,” you explained.

Beau smacked his lips. “I still shoulda known better. I should’ve seen it was a trap.”

“Maybe,” you admitted. You couldn’t say you would’ve done the same thing, but you knew Beau would’ve never purposely put Randy in danger if he had even the faintest idea. “But it could’ve happened to anybody. This was bigger than you knew.”

“It wouldn’t have happened to you,” he stated quietly. You couldn’t argue with that. You were more by-the-book than he was. You would’ve never gone against a superior’s order. You would’ve respected it.

“Look, just go home. Talk to your wife. Get some help,” you said. “You missed your suspension hearing, but I spoke on your behalf. Told them it wasn’t your fault. The DEA backed me. Harper’s gonna reinstate you. Just come back as soon as you’re ready.”

Beau nodded slowly. Even if he didn’t say it, you could tell he was thankful for your efforts. “I can’t go home.”

Your brow furrowed. “Why? I’m sure Carla will understand. You need to talk to someone about this. Go to therapy – and not the alcoholic kind. Losing a partner is not something you get over quickly. You need people in your corner, including your wife.”

“You mean the wife that lets criminals out on the street?” Beau’s gaze was focused on the glass in his hands. The wrinkles on your brow deepened. “The guy that shot him… Carla’s his defense attorney. Was, at least. He was supposed to do time, but two months ago, she got him paroled.” With a dark chuckle, he emptied his glass.

“Beau…” You knew he had always struggled with Carla’s job, making you sometimes wonder about their dinner conversations at home. “It ain’t her fault more than it is yours. She’s just doing her job. You know that. You’ve been together for so long, you’d think you’re used to it by now.”

Beau scoffed a chuckle and gestured to the bartender for a refill. “I was a young cop back then. Wasn’t on the job as long. I didn’t know it would bother me so much. Still lived in that hopeful bubble, I guess.”

You smiled knowingly. “You mean the ‘I didn’t think I’d see as much shit and injustice as I do now’ bubble?”

He snickered softly. “Yep, that one. Just didn’t think it’d be this hard, you know?”

“I get it. I mean, me and Carla butt heads all the time over this stuff. But we do it in a competitive fun way and then get drunk,” you said with a light chuckle. “Guess it’s different when you’re married, though, huh?”

“Yeah, it is…” he sighed.

“Still, go home. Talk to her,” you encouraged but could see your words of wisdom fell on deaf ears. “By the way, the funeral’s on Saturday.”

He turned his gaze away from his glass and found your eyes. “You need any help with that?”

“Maybe you can give a eulogy. You knew him best. I think he would’ve really liked that,” you said with a warm smile. No matter your own feelings, you knew deep down Randy would’ve wanted you to forgive his partner.

“Yeah, I can do that. Anything you need, okay?” Beau clasped your hand that laid on the bar counter and squeezed reassuringly before dropping it again.

You smiled appreciatively and teased, “Maybe show up sober. Or at least close-to.”

Beau chuckled a little. “I promise.”

You stood up from your seat then and put some cash for your drink on the counter. “Alright, I’m heading home. You need me to call you a cab?”

“Nah, I’m good. I’m just gonna finish this drink, then I’ll head out, too,” he said.

“You sure? Don’t make me come back here,” you threatened playfully.

Beau laughed softly. “I won’t. Thanks for everything, Y/N. I mean it.”

You sent him a smile and gave his shoulder a squeeze on your way out. “You’re welcome. Get home safe, okay?”

However, Beau couldn’t keep any of his promises. He made it home after three more drinks and woke up on the front lawn of his house. Carla wasn’t happy when she found him in the morning as she brought Emily to school. But Beau couldn’t stop. Every time he closed his eyes, the tragic events flashed before him like a horror movie, witnessing Randy’s death in a never-ending loop. He kept seeing his partner get dragged away, heard the shot over and over again like a rain of bullets without a ceasefire.

The guilt was eating him alive. The guilt of getting his partner into this mess in the first place. Of leaving him behind. Of surviving and coming out alive when he didn’t deserve to.

So, Beau kept drinking to forget, even though he knew it was a futile endeavor. The memory would never fade, but at least it was blurred.

Your heavy breaths echoed through the small trailer. His mouth moved down the column of your throat, leaving a wet path of ravenous love bites in its wake.

“Fuck, baby,” you moaned wantonly, his grip on your flesh punishing as he kept you pressed flush against him while he devoured you on the little dining table. Your ass sat on the wooden surface, your crossed ankles locked tightly behind his muscular back.

“God, you made me so happy today,” he growled against the shell of your ear, his rising length rubbing against your core through layers of denim.

“I can see that.” You giggled, your hands dangling in his hair. “There’s no need to hate him so much, you know?”

“Says you,” Beau quipped and unzipped your jeans, eagerly pulling them off you as his mouth sucked your clavicle purple and blue. “That slimy coyote always had it out for me.”

Beau removed your panties as well, tossing them behind his shoulder where they landed in the kitchen sink. “Whoops.” He grinned charmingly but was unstoppable, freeing his throbbing dick as he shoved his jeans and boxers barely over his ass. He didn’t bother to slip out of them all the way, too impatient to wait any longer to enter you.

“Still, I’m already yours. I’ve always been yours,” you said and braced yourself on his broad shoulders as one large hand on your back pulled you closer to the edge of the table. His other hand grabbed his cock, twisting his fist along the hard, long shaft a few times before he glided his cockhead through your slick folds.

“Not always.” With one harsh thrust, he pushed inside you, your tight walls fighting to make room for him and adjust to his stretch.

You gasped at the pleasurable burn that coursed through your body and ignited every sizzling nerve. He dropped his head to your shoulder, giving both of you some time to get used to each other. You could tell you were in for a wilder ride tonight. You always loved when he fucked you rough and hard. There was something raw and animalistic about the need in his hypnotizing green eyes.

Beau then claimed your lips with one fervent kiss, enough of a spark to cause a wildfire. He met your gaze, hands gingerly cupping your cheeks. “But I love that you’re mine now. And I’m sure as hell gonna make you mine tonight, darlin’.”

You crashed your lips against his, your kisses frenzied and untamed as his hips began to slam into you. His pounds into your pussy were relentless as you swallowed every inch of him. You gripped him tight, already feeling your first orgasm bloom. It accumulated like dark, violent storm clouds on the horizon, forecasting roaring thunder and heavy rainfall.

“Oh God! Fuck, baby!” You screamed as your climax tore through you like a hurricane, your cunt gushing on his cock and pulsing around him. Your nails dug into his shoulder blades and scratched down his back as you came undone.

Beau groaned into your ear, squeezing his eyes shut as he barely held on himself. But he didn’t let up and kept up his furious pace, not ready to stop yet. “Shit, keep doing that. You’re so fucking tight, Y/N,” he grunted against your skin, your sensitive flesh barely withstanding his ruthless pumps. “Want you to come again, darlin’.”

With his declaration, his hand slipped between your sweat-clad bodies. You came close to losing your mind as he thumbed furiously at your clit, the stars already starting to twinkle in front of your eyes. You could feel yourself get shoved to the edge once more, staring down the steep cliffs of white-hot ecstasy.

Your mind was consumed by need, his grip on your hips bruising as you exploded. You cried out raucously, your whole body quaking in his hold upon your eruption, the aftershocks so powerful they could cause cracks in your bones.

Beau spilled his seed deep inside of you, his body stuttering in rhythm with yours as your earthquake took him down with you. Hazy gazes met each other with lazy smiles as ragged breaths mingled.

“Fuck, that was good. I think that one might make it into our Top Ten.” Beau chuckled gravelly and placed a gentle kiss on your temple.

“Hmm, not sure. We have a few greatest hits.” You giggled and bit down on your lower lip with a mischievous twinkle in your eyes. “Can I tell you something?”

Beau cupped your cheeks, thumbs caressing the heated and rosy skin as he lifted your gaze. “Anything.”

“Just between us, you’re the best lover I ever had,” you confessed with a wide grin. The corners of his mouth rose to match yours.

“Well, between us, I’ve never loved anyone like I love you. You’re it, darlin’. You know that, right? You’re the love of my life,” Beau revealed, making you smile brighter than you ever had before.

“I’m not sure about the sex, but this moment, right here, is probably gonna make it into the Top Ten,” you said softly as a few tears stung your eyes.

“Good.” Beau smiled and pecked your forehead.

The buzzing of a phone shifted your attention. You recognized it as yours, and Beau was quick to retrieve it from your jeans pocket in the pile of clothes on the floor.

“It’s Jenny,” you told him before picking up. “Hello… What?! Uh-huh, we’ll be right there.”

Beau’s brow furrowed as he watched your features flicker through an array of emotions. “Bad news?”

“Uhm, honestly, I don’t know,” you said and swallowed some of your confusion down, gathering your thoughts. “Jenny said Diane just walked into the station and gave herself up. She is ready to confess but only wants to talk to us.”

“Us? As in us two?” Beau’s eyes narrowed. You nodded. “Well, that doesn’t sound fishy at all,” he commented wryly.

“Yup, I don’t like it.”

Chapter 8: Chemical Bonds – JUNE 26

A lot of revelations and foreboding in this one... 👀 Also, I just love having Beau say the word "coyotes" for some reason 😂

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@nesnejwritings @autistic-gothic

Everything Beau Arlen: @snowayumi

Polaris Series: @corruptedcruiser @spnfamily-j2

[xetlynn]

JJK Imagines- Yuji Itadori

Impression

Summary: reader is chubby due to her cursed technique, she doesn’t believe she’s a good fighter because of the way she looks. Always being hard on herself. She’s not used to praise or compliments.

Not requested.

[jjk] [master list]

“I can’t believe Gojo is having me train you. Megumi might be better.” I frown, not understanding how I’m certified enough to train the boy who needs to be stronger due to being Sukuna’s vessel. I’m only a grade 2, on the verge of being semi grade 1. Megumi is practically building himself to be grade 1.

 “Don’t be hard on yourself. You’re strong.” Megumi dryly says. “Yeah, [Name]-chan! He praised you when he talked to me. So that has to mean you’re amazing!” Itadori expresses our senseis supposed approval of me. 

“Brother!” A voice calls out loudly, I wince at the sound, I glance over to Megumi who does the same thing. “Todo, I told you that wasn’t me! I don’t know what took over me!” Itadori cries out, running away from the larger man who has a grin on his face. “Oh but don’t you remember when we went to the movies together, brother! Don’t say that!” Todo responds, catching up with the boy and lifting him up in the air. “That never happened!!!” 

I cover my mouth attempting to not laugh at my classmate who’s getting manhandled by an annoying brute of a guy. Unfortunately he’s still in Tokyo after the whole sister school exchange event. Where Kyoto’s principal gave his students orders to kill Itadori. 

“I’m going to go find Maki, she needs help with something.” Megumi whispers over to me, probably so Todo doesn’t see him and give him the same treatment that is being given to Itadori. “Todo, Itadori needs to do some training.” I cross my arms, the man turns his head over to me. Giving me a weird expression before ignoring me. My expression falls.

Todo’s always treated me this way, I roll my eyes. “Hey, I know you heard me, you big lug!” I Smack his arm that was holding onto Itadori. “He can do his training with me! Can’t you, brother?” Todo places the pink haired teen down but a hand is still on his shoulder so he can’t go anywhere. I see a sweat go down his forehead, he quietly pleads with me to help him. 

The big guy doesn’t enjoy my company very much after he lost against me in a fight. And for some reason he kept bringing up how I am not his type. I’m guessing it’s because I’m not skinny nor super tall for his liking. “Ah, he isn’t disagreeing!” He roars into triumphant laughter, bringing Itadori into his side. “Did you know that we have the same type? Tall girls with big butts!” Todo smiles proudly but Itadori puts his head down in shame for some reason. 

I feel my chest pang a little bit. I didn’t know Itadori had the same type actually… I sort of have been catching feelings for the boy. I don’t even know why. I can’t get myself to have a full conversation with him without panicking but he’s always been persistent in talking with me from the beginning. When we thought he was dead that’s when I kind of realized my feelings for him. Obviously it was a small thing since we hadn’t known each other long. When he showed up with Gojo sensei my heart raced. Indicating I still had that stupid crush on him. 

It didn’t matter though, I’m not his type. I don’t know if I would be anyone’s type. My cursed technique makes me… bigger than others. Having to eat more than a regular person. 

“Todo, Gojo wants [Name] to train me today. I can’t go against Sensei’s orders!” Itadori scratches the back of his head awkwardly. Todo frowns, letting him go. “I guess I can’t argue with that! We will have to hang out later!” Itadori gets smacked in the back pushing him toward me and I catch him.

“Let’s go, Itadori.” I sigh, dragging him to the training ground. “You know you can call me Yuji, right?” He responds sadly, picking up his pace so I can let him go. My hand feels cold now. “Mm, Itadori rolls off the tongue better.” I tease him, his face drops as I snicker. “Kidding, kidding!” “Okay Yuji, we should start with some stretching!” I say as we enter the training ground. I place my hands on my hips. 

“I’ll follow your lead [Name]-chan!” He gives me a closed eyed smile, my face grows hot. “R-right.” I stammer, beginning the training with stretches. I feel foolish. This idiotic crush is going to form a false narrative of my personality to him! 

I disregard looking at him when we do the stretches, only naming out what I am doing with my face avoiding his area. Normally I keep my head held high, this stuff doesn’t bother me! Why is it affecting me so harshly? He’s been back a total of three days and I act as if I’ve had a crush on him for months. He hasn’t been around for a month beforehand!

After I finish my stretches I glance up to see him still doing his last one. I stand straight, observing his body structure. The muscles appeared vividly through his workout shirt. “Am I taking too long?” He abruptly inquires, startling me out my staring.

 “Hm, why would you ask that?” I tilt my head to the side. I wasn’t rushing him, at least I hope it didn’t seem like I was. 

“You were staring, and seemed upset.” He shoots up from his spot, stretching out his arms. “Oh sorry, I was thinking.” I lie… partially. “Thinking about what?” 

“How I’m going to beat you!” I kick his legs causing him to fall to the ground with a loud grunt. “Awe, you caught me off guard!” Yuji whines, getting right back up and we get into defensive positions. He goes to hit me but I move away swiftly using my cursed energy to make me move faster. 

“That was the point!” I giggle, I attempt to punch him but he grabs my fist, swiping my feet like I did to him. Only I didn’t fall down. Surprisingly catching myself in time. “I wasn’t expecting you to fight this well!” He tells me earnestly. 

“Don’t underestimate anyone, Yuji Itadori!” I push on his pressure points in his back. Shocking him enough to get him back on the ground. “What was that?” He yells as I smirk, shrugging my shoulders. Dropping down to attack him, unfortunately he rolls away in time. Tackling me down this time. 

“What’s your technique?” He demands to know, I raise a brow. I thought he’s seen me use it before. I think back to the past few times I’ve fought. 

I guess he’s never really been around to see it… I didn’t go with him, Nobara or Megumi when they went to that building where he died from Sukuna. And in the event I was separated from him, putting up a fight against Momo and Mai with Nobara. “You’ll have to find out.” I huff out, absorbing his minimal cursed energy that he was currently using. He doesn’t use it much but it’s something for me to take. 

I shove him off of me, showing off the muscularity I now suddenly had. I already have impressive strength but absorbing others' energy only feeds it. 

Pretty much superhuman, which I’ve heard Yuji has that normally without any cursed energy. I sort of got to witness it when he sparred with Gojo for fun earlier. “You’re stronger than before.” Yuji states, I smile with a nod. 

“That’s your cursed technique? Strength?” He seems confused, he isn’t far off but it’s not the answer. I hear someone walking into the grounds. Yuji and I don’t look away from one another. It was Panda. I focus on his energy, slowly absorbing it without him realizing. 

“Your cursed energy… It grew!?” He shouts, I then attack him once again. This time it throws him backwards about 15 feet from where I stood.  

“Hey, I told you to stop doing that to me!” Panda reprimands angrily but doesn’t do anything about it. “Sorry.” I mutter, I don’t think it was loud enough for him to hear though. “You took his cursed energy?” Yuji mainly talks to himself as he gets back up. I could tell he was tired though. It was an effect on what I did. 

“Mine too?” He glances down at his hands. Yuji fully lifts himself up, running to get me. I stick my tongue out before I run out of the way. He hit the pillar I was in front of him. Knocking him straight down. 

I give back Panda and Yuji’s energy. “You okay, Itadori?” I stood above him, slightly bent over so my face was in his. His eyes open. “It’s Yuji, [Name]-chan!” He groans, taking my reached out hand to help him stand up. “Sorry!” I bite back a laugh. 

“That was so cool!” He cheers suddenly. I awkwardly thanked him, holding myself. “Does it tire you at all? How strong can you get? Actually, how many people’s cursed energy can you take before it’s too much?” He quizzes me, my face scrunches at all the questions not knowing when I can answer any of them as he continues to praise my cursed technique. My face was burning as well since I didn’t expect him to be this impressed by this. 

“It makes me hungry.” I spurt out, rubbing my stomach not soon after it growls. “Wait, really?” He asks. 

“Mhm! If I absorb too much it weakens me, making me super hungry.” I explain to him, wiping sweat off of my forehead, I turn to talk to Panda but it seems he had already left the grounds. Usually after I train he joins me to get food, knowing that I’m going to be ultra hungry after using my technique. He helps with my errands as well. My shoulders drop in disappointment. Who’s going to help me now? 

 “Let’s go get food then.” Yuji’s face gets serious. 

“Oh, it’s okay. I still have some things to do before I go get food.” I say, I didn’t want to be alone with Yuji unless we were fighting. Eating food with him… seemed too romantic for me. “I can help!” Yuji offers, I flinch, not knowing how to get out of this now. “You don’t have to, I’ll be okay.” I wave him off. Starting to walk off the grounds. 

“I’ll pay! But if you truly don’t want to go with me. I understand. We’re not true friends just yet.” He walks beside me, I mentally curse at myself for making him think that we aren’t true friends! 

“I- I want to eat with you! I just don’t want you to feel obligated to hang out with me.” I stop in my tracks to bow my head down, now feeling weirdly shameful. 

“[Name]-chan I hope I didn’t make you feel like I don’t want to hang out with you.” He bows down fully to apologize to me. “I actually asked Gojo-sensei for you to train me because I wanted to hang out with you!” He blurts out, surprising me. I take a step back. “Really?” I ask. Gojo just went up to me telling me I had to train him and I didn’t have a choice.

He peaks up while still being bowed down. “Yeah… you just seem really cool. I hope that isn’t weird.” He slowly lifts his upper body back up to look at me. 

“It’s not weird at all. Thank you, Yuji.” I wrap him in a hug. I’ve never had someone find me cool. It was new. People’s first glance at me is usually the last. I don’t impress anyone, the way I look pushes people away instead of reeling them in. Megumi and Panda were the only ones who spoke to me first. Megumi doesn’t judge quickly though. It’s something I always appreciated. 

“Of course.” Yuji hugs me back before I let go. “Let’s go get food!” I grin, taking his hand. 

+Extra+

“Why didn’t you tell me how cool, [Name]-chan is!?” Yuji shakes Megumi dramatically. “Her technique is so cool, I want to hang out with her all the time!!!” He tells the dark haired boy who just gives him a straight faced response. “Seems like you have a crush on her.” Megumi bluntly says. Yuji lets go of the boy. 

“A crush on [Name]...” He feels his heart begin to beat fast. “You call her [Name]-chan. You talk about her too much. A crush.” Megumi sighs. 

“Hm… I think I do…” Yuji pictures [Name]’s face in his mind, making him smile softly. 

[delillilah]

Never grow up

Summary: When the youngest Hughes misses the relationship she had with her brothers before hockey was the priority.

Canton, MI📍

May 18th, 2023

4:38pm

Madeline stood before her graduating class at Canton Highschool, she never realized how hard highschool was without her brothers by her side. Now she stands at the podium preparing to say a speech, or a relay of the essay she wrote that got her into NYU.

“Good morning students, staff, faculty and my fellow graduates, today is a special day, for many. These past 4 years have changed my life completely and today, I’d like to share the reason I’m here.“

she took a breath while flattening her paper against the stand.

“I remember vividly the days we spent in Toronto, a tight-knit group of siblings with big dreams and even bigger imaginations. Quinn, the eldest, always leading the way with his determination and drive. Jack, the middle child, bringing laughter and mischief to our days. And Luke, the youngest before me, with his infectious energy and spirit. We were a team, unstoppable in our bond and unity. If you haven’t guessed yet, this is about my brothers”

A few chuckles were heard while the three brothers sit front row, looking back and forth to each other.

“But now, things have changed. They've all ventured into the world of professional hockey, achieving remarkable success and fame. Meanwhile, I'm still here, navigating the complexities of high school, feeling the weight of their achievements press down on me. It's like I'm running a different race, one where I struggle to keep up with their pace as they sprint ahead to glory.”

“There are moments when I long for the past, for those carefree days when we were all together, sharing secrets, dreams, and laughter. I miss the times when they would confide in me, when we were each other's biggest supporters. The distance that fame and adulthood have brought between us leaves me yearning for the simplicity of our childhood, where the only competition was who could score the winning goal in our backyard games.”

The whole Hughes family had small tears in their eyes, including Madelines.

“Yet, amidst the longing and the sense of being left behind, I find a quiet gratitude within me. Their absence has taught me to stand on my own, to navigate the challenges of growing up without relying on their shadows. I've learned to face harsh realities and tough situations with a strength I never knew I had, all because they showed me the way by moving forward. So, in a way, I thank them for unknowingly pushing me to grow and discover my own path in this journey called life.

Thank you Canton Highschool, you really taught me the ups and downs of life, but even more thank you to my family” she smiled and stepped back, hearing applause.

Stepping down to her chair, she could only think about what they would if they were there, she had no idea.

She saw her parents standing by the exit, then 3 very familiar guys in suit right next to them.

The sound of her heels clicking against the floor drowned out as she sped up along with her heart. Quinn noticed her first and stepped infront of the family, she just about leapt into his arms, clinging to him like he’s going to slip away if she lets go.

“Maddy” he whispers. “Why didn’t you tell me?” He asks quietly.

“I didn’t tell anyone” she mumbles back before stepping back, only for Jack to swoop in and grapple her in a hug, she let out a “oomph” at the impact.

“I’m sorry” he mumbles.

“Don’t please, it’s over now”

Luke stood patiently waiting for his turn. They had become the closets of the siblings before he started university, he felt horrible that she went through such a thing and didn’t tell him.

As soon as she looked at him, guilt washed over her.

“Lu” she hummed as she reached over to hug him.

“You didn’t tell me”

“I know, but I didnt want you to feel bad that I was feeling bad. But hey-” she leaned back.

“NYU is just 15 minutes away, okay?”

“okay, or you know you could just switch to online and leave with me and-”

“no chance- sorry, I love you two, I really do I just still need my space. But maybe I’ll live down the street”

“Deal”

“What about me?” Quinn asked while ruffling her hair. “If I’m in online I can travel whenever I need to, oh- and Vancouver has that really cute book store I like” she smiles while he chuckles at her.

[natsuhi-kinnie]

basically rambling about eva in general, that i hc her as b cluster girlie, and how i perceive her relationship with self, kinzo and mainly Natsuhi

idk if she's actually b cluster, but i do hc her as such, and it's interesting how different it makes her in my head.

i think she really often splitting, and that's one of the main reasons her marriage with Hideyoshi works because he never doubts or really scolds her, he never questions her decisions and goes along with them. I feel like it might not be necessarily closely relevant to b cluster, I've talked with my sibling about that, and the sort of seeing other as "resources", as someone in relation to person and what that relationship means and symbolises rather than the actual relationship and actions towards her that matter, it feels like agglomeration of bpd and npd, maybe b cluster as the whole, plus cravings of affection and validation, support of identity, and support of social identity. Like, kinzo represents general parental figure, craving of being accepted and acknowledged, but also all of the humiliation people put her through because she was born as a woman and other various matters at different times. That's why, i think, in 3 game, evatrice had to tell eva to "forget and threw away the awe and respect for her feather" because of respect to her father she deem epitaph nearly impossible and complicated simply by the fact that kinzo have created it, because at that moment he represents the patriarchal system (and her belief in it) that holds her back from achieving what she desperately wants, what she "deserves" - the headship.

Also, beside the main point but the way Evatrice scolds and insults Eva and urges her to solve the epitaph because Evatrice is still part of Eva's heart, meaning Eva still crave what headship represents to her (being in position of ultimate power, being acknowledged, being respected, being accepted etc, most of it comes from her impression of kinzo as the head) but she tried to "grow" out of this by trying to make George into successor, missing the reasons why she wanted to be the head of the family in the first case. She is such tragic woman honestly.

That's why i assume that the reason why she so angry and quick to bully Natsuhi it's not just because Natsuhi is more emotional and easier to hurt than Krauss. I suppose it might be because Natsuhi meant to represent traditional femininity to Eva.

Natsuhi comes from an ancient aristocratic shinto priest family, Natsuhi herself is very rigid on being "yamado nadeshiko". (She even has incurable condition that makes her suffer immensely but not in "vulgar" way, headaches sucks, and i do not mean to disrespect that, i mean that it's not as inappropriate as having a tourrette syndrome, or something that is perceived as "inherently gross, disgusting, therefore = not feminine", it plays into sexist myth about how women are fragile and all). It sorta made worse by the fact that while she isn't rewarded or truly respected or appreciated by most people in the goddamn family, Natsuhi still has the power (or rather duty to be honest) over ordering servants, over the matters of inside the mansion, and she genuinely tries to be perfect hostess and sister-in-law for them, "like a good wife/woman should". I don't mean to ramble about how good of person Natsuhi is, only because it isn't about her at the moment, but she is trying to make every family member feeling welcome and cared for and a lot of times showed care and thoughtfulness about members of family, the way how she immediately tries to comfort and help people, even if they fought and insulted her before, like Eva in 3 game for example, when Eva panicked because Hideyoshi wasn't here, Natsuhi tried to comfort her without even being surprised or making any remarks about Eva's panicked, scared and very vulnerable state, the way Natsuhi was dumbfounded and also tried to comfort George upon Eva's and Hideyoshi's death in the first episode, and the way Natsuhi instantly suggested to bring and consult Kyrie on medicine that helps with headaches and many other examples that i will not remember right now. Since Natsuhi is of traditional upbringing and tries to do her best to be this "good daughter/good wife/good mother" in the most traditional and conservative way, it obviously will remind Eva a lot of what kinzo had said about what "women supposed to do". And since Eva internalised a lot of kinzo's beliefs (even though i don't think she internalised them completely), it wouldn't be surprising if she had some complicated feelings towards femininity.

Now, I do remember that Eva is shown being comfortable doing stereotypically feminine things (like cooking for example) around Hideyoshi and George, and it even being stated in narration that Eva instilled some cooking competition amongst the housewives of neighborhood or something like that, but I still think that its because she is around Hideyoshi and George, she feels comfortable being vulnerable around them, they support her and she's far away from anything and anyone related to feelings she had on rokenjima, and since going to the island stirs up the trauma, i would assume it would also stir up these particular feelings. Like, she isn't feminist at this point, but she still is (rightfully) angry that she's been treated as less than because she is a woman, that she was expected to be only what is considered feminine and appropriate and nothing else, but she also directs this frustration at Natsuhi because Natsuhi makes it appear/intensify by the fact that Natsuhi IS traditionally feminine and appropriate (at least she tries to be), whether Eva tried to resist against this to dismay of kinzo. So by bullying Natsuhi and trying to prove to her and herself that Natsuhi isn't "good enough of a woman/wife/mother/hostess/etc" she repeats her own humiliation inflicted on her by kinzo and supported by krauss, but now in position of perpetrator, in position of "power", simultaneously trying to apply the hampels raven or whatever, about how "if i can prove that every woman here is worse than me, that I am better woman, than i am «good enough woman»". That's my thoughts on that anyway.

[iniziare]

Re-tag drop: Yelan

[readymades2002]

something difficult about writing/storytelling but only in short disconnected bursts is that writing anything longform is very difficult. there isn't as much time to practice long-term character development or subtlety (implying character instead of immediately clarifying) when its not really meant to go anywhere but a notes app. its a little frustrating...i'd love to do something more longform though. i've considered maybe just doing some short writing scenes in my various original universes a lot recently mostly because i just havent had time to draw anything fancy recently </3 maybe that would be something...

[remuslupinslittleslut]

Poly!Marauders x Reader - First time

Poly!Marauders x Reader, it's her first time and they're all helping out. Also, it's so On Brand for James Potter to come in his pants while eating pussy. I love this man.

“So, you’re saying you’ve never… done it?” Sirius asks, looking at Y/N questioningly.

“Nice way to put it, Pads”, scolded Remus, reaching out to touch the cheek of their girlfriend.

“Uh, yeah, I guess”, she starts, “I mean, I’ve done… some stuff? But not, like, all of it?”

The boys share a look of… something new. Soon, three sets of hands are touching her, rubbing her thighs, arms, and sides.

“Do you… want to? With us?” Asks James, rubbing circles with his thumbs on her arms.

She’s playing with her hands in her lap, feeling her heart racing. Excitement started to take over the nervousness that had previously filled her body. She did want it, badly, but she was unsure of how to initiate, not knowing what was okay or how to best go about it.

“Yeah” she says, looking into James’ eyes, “Yeah, I want to.”

***

Not long after, she’s sitting against the headboard, back pressed against Sirius’ chest, lips locked with Remus and James’ lips kissing down her legs. They had promised to take the best of care of her, and she really could feel it, the love that encompassed her in this position. The arms of Sirius, wrapped around her waist, started to sneak under the fabric of her shirt, as Remus’ hands teased her nipples through the shirt.

“Baby, can I unbutton this?” Sirius asks from behind her, lips trailing kisses down her neck, leading to Remus receiving a moan in his mouth before she nods, telling the man behind her that yes he can.

Hands are running up her legs, rubbing at her thighs, sending shivers down her spine as her shirt finally comes undone, baring her tits for her little audience.

“So pretty, love”, murmurs Remus, sitting back and taking in the view.

James, too, leans up on his elbows to look at her, basking in her beauty, “Yeah babe, so pretty,” making her shy away from all the attention, trying to hide her face in Sirius’ hair.

“How’re you feeling, pretty girl?” Sirius asks her, reaching to grab at her pretty tits, feeling her arch her back against his chest.

“Uh huh, so good”, Y/N whines, feeling James’ hands creeping up her thighs, followed by his mouth, kissing, biting and nibbling at the skin. Her moans rise an octave as his hands reach the very top of her legs, fingers nudging her underwear.

“May I?” His glasses are completely askew and he’s looking up at her with wide eyes, shiny with anticipation, and when she nods he reaches all the way, rubbing at her clit through her panties, “How’s that feel baby?”

“Good, so good”, she’s getting whiny, the feeling of all three of them becoming overwhelming, “Remmy please, wanna feel you, kiss me?” And how could he ever say no to that? Leaning back down, he places one hand on her cheek, angling her face to be able to kiss her.

James taps her hips, indicating for her to lift so that he can pull her undies down, “Oh she’s so pretty”, he says, “Pretty little pussy… Pads, help me keep her legs open.” His friend complies, using his own legs to keep hers open, hands still running up and down her waist, sometimes coming up to grab at her tits.

Sploshy sounds fill the room as James’s lips stay locked against her wet pussy, his hips moving to rub himself against the mattress. Remus pulls away, again, “Do you like that, pretty girl? You like James eating your sweet cunt?” He asks, rubbing a thumb against her red and swollen lips, “I think you should put this pretty mouth to good use as well, don’t you?”

The question makes her blush a deep red, but she does think that so she nods, feeling that nervousness creep up again, but before she can think any more of it, Remus’ trousers and pants are off and he’s placing his hard, pink tipped cock right in her face. “Open up, baby”, he says, poking her lips with the head.

The taste is a bit strange, she thinks, salty and tangy, but not bad. She starts by licking around the tip, before opening up more to let him further in her mouth. At the same time, James’s fingers are working tirelessly against her clit, while his tongue licks around her hole, making her moan and whimper around Remus’ cock.

Remus has a firm hold around her neck, not really squeezing, just holding her in place as he lightly thrusts his hips, careful not to choke her. “So good, baby, such a sweet little mouth, yeah?” Her eyes open, looking up at him, “Yeah, you’re just made to take cock like this.”

In between her legs, James switches position, fingers plunging into her leaking hole, tongue rubbing circles on her sensitive bud. Her legs try to close, but Sirius’ legs keep her open for his friend, letting him feast on their girlfriend, while their other boyfriend fills her mouth. He can feel her getting closer, noticing how she gets more twitchy in the legs and her mouth turns slack around Remus. “So good, love, you can let go now, yeah just like that, let go, come all over James’ face, just like that, good girl”, Sirius is telling her to let go, and that with the praise sends her straight over the edge, juices flooding, covering James. Remus pulls out of her mouth, letting her breathe, and takes Sirius hand, bringing it to his cock. Watching their girl come, one of his boyfriends jerking his cock, Remus can’t do much but come, covering her chest in hot, white liquid.

“Jamie, please stop”, her hands go to his hair, pulling him off, “‘s too much, please.” He pulls away, face wet with her slick, and he looks sheepishly up at his three partners as they all notice the wet patch on his legs.

“Can you take more?” Asks Remus, coming down from his own orgasm. She nods, whimpering a simple yeah, “Good girl, then I think it’s about time Padfoot gets his turn with you, yeah?” Her eyes widen, but soon she’s turning in the lap of the aforementioned boy.

“Hi baby”, he says, finally facing her. Arms around her waist, holding her close

“Hey…”, her head nuzzling into the crook of his neck, smelling his hair, breathing it in.

“Gonna fuck you now, yeah? Gonna make you feel so good”, his hands reach down, grabbing her ass, spreading her cheeks slightly, “up a lil for me” he commands, and she raises herself up on her thighs, hovering over his lap. He frees himself from his pants, tugging himself a few times, “Allright, baby, now come down for me.” One hand on himself, the other on her hips, he aligns himself with her hole, letting her down, filling her up. They both moan at the intrusion, his eyes raising to look over her shoulder at their two boyfriends, eagerly watching the pair.

Sirius moves down a bit, laying down, letting her face stay in the place where his neck meets his shoulder, folding his legs and thrusting up into her. He winces as she bites his shoulder, in a desperate try not to scream out loud.

“Is this okay, baby?” He asks, warm hands rubbing her backside.

“Yeah, ‘s good, so good.” She feels like she’s on fire, her hole being perfectly stretched, g-spot consistently hit. It’s a new sensation, different from James’ fingers. When Sirius starts thrusting faster, holding onto her arse, practically splitting her in two, she goes into a very different headspace. It’s so good, so, so good, but also so so much and soon she’s coming, again, walls clamping down on Sirius’ cock, moans slipping from her mouth, stuck to her throat.

“Fuck, babe, you’re so good, so tight, love this little hole”, he’s, once again, whispering very dirty words in her ear, chasing his own orgasm. “Ah, huh, Siri, fuck, ah, please”, she’s whiny, moaning and whimpering, small hands clamping down on his upper arms, holding on for dear life.

“Ah that’s it, love, gonna come now, gonna fill you up”, and he does, and it’s amazing, yet another completely new sensation, sending her over the edge for a third time.

“Good job baby, took us all so well” “Yeah love, you did so well for us, gonna let you rest now”

“‘M gonna clean you up a lil, you just lay here though, such a good girl”

[womanmanipulator]

prove your love

spencer reid x bau!fem!reader

synopsis: lila gives your boyfriend heart eyes. when he’s assigned to stay over at her place you’re pissed. when spencer comes home, he makes sure to show his love for you. SMUT!!! minors dni

warnings: dom/sub, praise kink, oral sex (fem receiving), piv, various positions, overstimulation, pet names such as trouble, sweetheart, love, etc. very cheesy.

~

you slip your heels off in the hall with an aggravated huff. ‘look on the bright side, the case is over.’ your brain tries to tell you but the many sights and experiences of lila disrespecting you and glaring at you wasn’t going to leave your brain anytime soon. meanwhile, spencer got the opposite treatment, compliments, heart eyes, and lingering handshakes the entire time. she even slipped him her number, that little—

“hey,” spencer says, knocking you out of your thoughts. he can tell your brains conjuring something up. he can practically see the cogs turning in your head. “what’s got you so worked up?” he asks, taking a step towards you. his hands settle on your hips then travel to your lower back. he smiles down at you.

“nothing.” you dismiss, light and airy. trying to act unbothered. “why do you think i’m mad?” you question back, a little too defensive for your liking. “are you asking me to profile you?” he grins. you don’t get the chance to speak before he starts, “for starters, you practically ripped your heels off and threw them, you’re all tense, your fists were balled up and i can tell your thinking hard about something.” he exaggerates.

“you’re wrong because i am perfectly fine.” you state matter of factly. brushing his hands off you and walking to the bedroom. he follows after you. “holding in emotions, specifically anger, can have detrimental effects on one’s mental health. the constant internal struggle to suppress emotions can lead to even more stress, anxiety and even depression.” spencer explains. you just hum in response, searching in your closet for something comfortable, your mind doesn’t stop running about stupid lila though. he watches you. it wasn’t uncommon, he loved to observe you. most of the time it was just to see your pretty face while you were in thought but other times he liked to study your behavior and learn your routines. spencer liked to do it with you.

“you’re staring,” you comment. “i can’t help it.” he flirts. “oh please, did you tell lila that too today?” you let slip. you flush. glad you aren’t face to face with spencer right now. “that’s what this is about?” he chuckles. “cmere,” he says. you stumble over to the bed and he pulls you onto his lap. “you know i love you right?” he says. you nod. not looking at him. “so much, like i am unconditionally and irrevocably in love with you, or whatever bella said.” he makes a twilight reference. you were the one who forced him to watch it. you giggle a little, meeting his eyes. he smiles. “there’s my girl.” he murmurs. your heart swoons. his hands settle on your waist and he leans in. you kiss, it’s almost like a breath of fresh air. when he pulls away, still keeping close he speaks. “i think i need to prove how much i love you, hmm?” he hums. “you don’t need to.” you mumble. “but i want to, please?” he pleads. you don’t protest for long. “okay.. if you must.” you giggle. he smiles. he’s so pretty you feel like your going to explode.

as he places you on your back, unbuttoning your shirt, he starts to spit out another fact. “did you know men are more jealous of sexual infidelity than emotional?” he asks. “women are actually the opposite, they get more jealous with ‘emotional cheating’ than sexual.” he takes his time, you always loved how smart he was. it turned you on.

“i wasn’t jealous,” you say. “oh really?” he snorts. slipping off your shirt. “yeah.” you say. he instructs you to lift your hips so he can slide your pants off. “mhmm..” he says. eyes focused on your body, he’s too distracted to make a smart comment. “she was pretty, i guess.” you try to say. lila was gorgeous. he just chuckles and shakes his head. not bothering to comment. he dips down and kisses you. nose accidentally bumping against yours and teeth clashing. it was messy, just how you liked it. “what was that thing about kissing and shaking hands?” you ask, just to hear him talk.

“the number of pathogens transferred from just a single handshake is staggering. it’s safer to kiss,” he says into the skin of your neck. “that’s interesting, tell me more.” you smile. he groans. “i can tell you all about it later, can’t i just take care of my baby now?” he smiles. “baby? what happened to trouble?” you grin. “you are trouble,” he sighs. lovingly of course. you giggle as he kisses down from your neck to your collarbone, then unbuckles your bra without struggle. pulling it off. he trails down to your tummy, pressing little kisses here and there. making you antsy. he reaches the spot you need him most and smiles into your skin as you squirm a little. “patience, trouble.” he says. he plants a firm kiss on your hipbone and pulls your panties down with one hand. “you’re so pretty,” he smiles. eyes flickering to your face. “all mine, hmm?” he hums and you nod enthusiastically. he chuckles and thumbs experimentally at your clit.

you press your hips up into his touch, leaning into it. chasing that feeling. he smirks, inserting two fingers slowly. he paws at that spongy spot within your walls. you let out a quiet moan and spencer doesn’t deem it good enough, he starts punching at the spot. abusing it almost. this pulls another moan out of you and he speeds up the movements on your clit. you almost see heaven as you arch your back, eyes rolling back. he leans down, attaching his lips on your clit and sucking harshly. thank god you weren’t standing because you would’ve doubled over with how strong your orgasm was. you try to get the words out but only pant. spencer can tell, “gonna cum, trouble?” he asks. then continues his attack on the bundle of nerves. the coil in your belly snaps, climaxing with his name on your lips.

the sound of your slick fills the room as spencer works you through your organism. eyes trained on your pussy. his fingers are pulled out, given a quick lick and suddenly his mouth is on you. lapping and drinking up your release like a man starved. “spence, wait— gimme a minute-“ moan.

your begs fall on deaf ears as he’s absolutely lost in you. there’s no pulling him out. you reach your hand down and bury it in his hair. pressing your hips into the bed to escape the overstimulation. trying to tug him off, he doesn’t listen though. moaning into you when you pull on his hair. the vibrations make you even more sensitive before, his nose brushes up against your clit as two strong hands come to hold you down on either side.

you moan, tears pricking in your eyes from the overstimulation. everything’s magnified by 10. the obscene sounds of your pussy fill the room as your poor clit is abused, spencer’s tongue prodding into you, milking you for everything you have to offer. the familiar hear fills your belly and you can feel the coil start to unwind. “spence—“ you sob. cumming again. riding against his face. you can feel that bastard smirk against you as he greedily laps up your release. “you’re okay,” he coaxs. finally pulling off of you. he presses a kiss to your mound then pulls himself up, he kisses your cheek. then wipes the stray tears on your cheek.

“hi pretty,” he says with a smile. your eyes meet his and you smile, a little dazy. “you have something on your face.” you say, remaints of cum. “do i?” he chuckles. he wipes it off with the back of his hand and kisses you. you can taste yourself on his tongue. “love you so much,” he mumbles against your lips. you don’t get the chance to respond before he’s kissing you again. a little tongue slipping in as he gets carried away. he messily kisses the corner of your mouth, then latches onto your neck. he works at his zipper, multitasking.

begrudgingly, he pulls away from you, slipping down his pants and kicking them off haphazardly. you tug at his shirt and he takes the hint to pull it off. undoing his tie and throwing it somewhere. when he FINALLY takes his shirt off you get to run your hands along his torso giddily. “y’so pretty,” you mumble. “this isn’t about me, it’s about you, trouble.” he says. slipping off his boxers. his cock slips angrily against his stomach and you almost whine. he leans down and kisses you as he slowly pushes in. the stretch burns but is bearable. “i know. its okay,” he whispers. he presses to the hilt, nudging against your cervix. you feel full, his hand slithers down and presses against your lower belly. “mmphh.” you whimper against his lips. he devours the sound and keeps his lips on yours as he starts to thrust in and out of you. pulling his head back to see your face every so often as the tip nudges against that sweet spot. it’s torturous how slow he’s going. you’re so overstimulated, tears start falling out of your eyes.

he smiles down at you, picking up the pace a little. his face contorts and he lets out a moan. you involuntarily clench at that and it punches out another sound. “trouble— can’t keep doing that.” he slurs. the wet sounds of him shoving your slick out of you fill the room as your hips collide. teeth and noses brush together messily and he’s practically devouring you. everything’s happening so fast. before you know it you’re coming again, his name recited on your lips. he works you through it, slamming into you with a feverish pace. you constrict around him and he’s not long after you, pressing himself as far as he can into you and coming. he’s whining,

you pant, he’s collapsed ontop of you. buried in your neck. tears roll down your face. “good girl, good job. taking me so well.” he praises breathily. taking? “..taking..?” you say. “don’t you mean took?”

“we aren’t done.” he lifts himself up from your shoulder, pushing his glasses up. the both of your climax leaks around his dick and spills out of you slowly. “i can’t!” you start to cry as he pulls out, he presses your knees to your chest and shoves himself back in. so much for catching your breath. “you will,” he says softly. beginning to thrust in and out of you, he’s so deep you feel it in your stomach. “that’s it, my good girl huh?” he praises into your neck, a pang of arousal shoots through your body and you can feel yourself get wetter. “spence—“ “none of the whining, you can take it.” he says. he bites at your jawline. you moan loudly. everything feels so good, it’s too much. he reaches down and starts to rub figure eights into your clit gently, a contrast to the brutal pace he had going. “there ya go, taking me so well.” he murmurs, pulling his teeth off and kissing gently. “ah- i- gonna.. cum.” you force out. almost forgetting how to talk. “let go baby.” he says. your back arches, eyes rolling back, clinging to him as if he was the one keeping your grounded. he follows after, shooting cum into you with a whimper and a “nngh.”

it’s unreal. you see stars.

when you come down from your high, your sat on spencer’s lap, dick still intact. you sob, falling into his shoulder and clinging onto him. “i can’t spence.” you sniffle from the overstimulation. if you had to come again you’d probably scream. you’d also scream though if he pulled out.

“the world record for most female orgasms in an hour is a hundred and ah- fuck, thirty six” he says as you clench around him. “i think you can.” he smirks. you push his glasses up.

you bite back, “nerd.”

-

that’s it

not proofread

i’m sick asf rn 🥰

[niningtori]

make you cry | part one

part two: beomgyu's ending | part three: hyuka's ending

pairing: beomgyu x you, huening kai x you in alternate ending

summary: beomgyu is your manwhore best friend who you've been secretly in love with for years. one night, he asks you to blur the lines between friendship and physical intimacy for his own convenience.

genre: ANGST, romance, smut (mdni), fwb

warnings: smut (mdni), unprotected sex, creampie, dom!gyu, eventual sub!gyu, fingering (vaginal), dacryphilia, dirty talk, praise, if i missed anything lmk!

word count: 4.2k

notes: hi friends! i'm not completely satisfied with this, but i'd rather it be done than sitting in my drafts. pls don't be mean ;_;

being in love with your best friend is not for the faint of heart, you think. in some cases, it’s the easiest thing in the world, but beomgyu makes it difficult. he’s not a bad guy, at least not deep down, but as you watch him break the heart of another notch in his belt, you can’t help but shiver at the fact that he’d very easily do the same to you if you gave him that chance. not that you ever will, that is, but the thought still remains.

you met in grade school. for you, it was a classic case of love at first sight. you had just fallen off the swingset and the teacher had yet to notice you, so you were crying alone when he came up to you with a dinosaur bandaid in tow. he looked like an angel with the sun encircling him, and even as a child, you thought he was the most beautiful thing you’d ever seen as he held his little hand out for you to grasp. you had no chance to steel your heart when he asked you if you wanted to be friends, and after that, the rest is history. 

that was years ago, but the image of him holding out his hand is engraved in your bones. you think about it even now as you watch him make the poor, unfortunate girl in front of you bawl like a baby. she asks him why he's doing this, what she did wrong, how she can fix it to make him stay. but he's dead set on breaking her heart tonight. and you'll be the one who takes his tipsy ass home after he's done ruining this girl’s perception of love. you’re nothing more than a glorified lackey and enabler, but that's just how it is.

“god, i don’t know why they can never just let go. they always have to make it so hard,” he grumbles in the passenger’s seat of your car. he seems more annoyed than genuinely upset and you can’t help but to feel for the girl who he just unceremoniously dumped in the middle of a house party, so you speak up for once.

“it’s not her fault, beoms. she just really likes you,” you reason. not that it matters, anyway, but you feel better after speaking your mind.

“so it’s my fault? i just don’t get it. i told her no strings attached from the beginning. the fact that she took it seriously is her own problem.” well, nevermind about feeling better. you feel even worse for her now.

“it’s hard not to get attached to you,” you mumble.

“what?” he asks, not even really paying attention to what you’re saying, but still asking for the sake of being (what he thinks is) polite.

“no, it’s nothing,” you reply quickly.

“mmm,” he nods, completely preoccupied with his own issues to really give a fuck about what you have to say. then, as if by a stroke of genius, he says his next words without much thought.

“i just thought of something! you would never act like that with me, would you?” you can’t help but scowl. of course you’d act like that. you’re a normal human being with normal feelings. you’ve already fallen for beomgyu without the physical intimacy, so you can’t imagine how you’d act if you actually had sex with him. but you can’t tell him that, or else he’d start suspecting something.

“i guess not,” you sigh. 

“then why don’t we hook up instead?” he asks, genuinely earnest. 

“no,” you say simply.

“why not?” he frowns, somewhat offended.

“i’m not interested,” you shrug. you don’t realize that your indifference has the opposite effect on beomgyu. what he perceives as your disgust only interests him more.

“c’mon, i’d definitely show you a good time,” he argues.

“i’m fine, thanks.” 

“no, you’re not fine. you haven’t slept with anybody in months. not since what’s-his-name, right? it’s the perfect deal. i’ll give you the time of your life and i’ll get to fuck without any feelings involved.” you try your hardest not to say it’s too late for that. those words will never leave your mouth, though. or else he’d drop you like a hot potato.

“i said no and i mean no. besides, i kind of like somebody right now.” you’re not lying, really. you truly do like, even love, somebody right now, and he’s sitting right next to you.

“who is he?” he asks. “actually, your taste in men is so shit, i don't even wanna know.” usually, that would hurt your feelings, but this whole situation is so fucked up you can’t even find it in you to stifle your laugh. 

“true.” he cocks an eyebrow at your answer. you should, in theory, vehemently deny this. just how shitty is this guy for you to not even put up a fight? 

“okay, i lied. now i really wanna know. who is he? yeonjun?” he asks. you giggle even more.

“no. yeonjun is sweet, but no. and i’m not telling you, so you should give up.” 

“you think yeonjun is sweet in comparison? damn, this guy must be fucking scum,” he laughs. you can’t help but shake your head with an airy laugh of your own. yeah, he’s so awful he even makes yeonjun look sweet. at least it seems like yeonjun has a conscience when he fucks somebody over. beomgyu, for the most part, has none.

“he’s not all bad,” you say softly, still smiling and resting your head on the headrest of your car. 

“but still bad,” he argues. 

“mhmm,” you hum. “still bad.”

-

beomgyu doesn’t mention hooking up again after that, and for that you are thankful, you think. is there a part of you that regrets not saying yes? in a way, you do. who wouldn’t want to be even closer to the one they love? but you know the closeness would be a lie. even if you were in closer proximity physically, he’d still be far away emotionally. too far to ever catch him. and so you sit at the counter of this shitty bar and watch him try to woo one of the prettiest girls you’ve ever seen, and by the looks of it, it’s working. you smile bitterly and down another shot, making your stomach feel hotter and hotter. you know that by the end of the night, you’ll feel sick, but you’d rather be physically sick and drunk rather than emotionally sick and sober. 

“you okay?” kai asks, sliding into the seat next to yours and cutting into your daze with ease. 

“aren’t i always?” you answer with a wry smile.

“it’s that bad, huh?” he asks. beomgyu is your best friend, sure, but kai is the only person in the world who knows about your feelings for him. he also feels like the only person in the world who would understand them. 

“yeah, it is,” you mumble, downing yet another drink as you watch beomgyu grinding on the girl salaciously. 

“wanna get out of here?” he asks sympathetically. you should say no. beomgyu will be angry that you left  him, even if he’d ditch you in a heartbeat to get laid. but now, as you watch him shoving his tongue in the red-lipped mouth of the girl who will now be the impossible standard you’ll hold yourself to from hereon out, you can’t bring yourself to care.

“i do,” you smile, for real this time, and his grin matches yours.

you’re so drunk, you barely remember how you got home, but you’re here and so is hyuka. you don’t cry, even if he kind of wishes you would just so you could let it all out. you laugh, even, as he tells his dorky jokes and beats your ass in mario kart. things are going so well, you don’t even hear the pounding on your door until kai says something about it.

“i’ll get it,” he says soothingly when you unsteadily try to stand up.

“thanks, hyuka,” you smile. and that smile stays planted on your face until you see who’s at the door. beomgyu. and by the looks of it, he’s pissed.

“what the fuck is your problem?! how could you just leave me there alone?” he asks as soon as he’s let in. your face sinks and all prior happiness is washed away in an instant.

“you weren’t alone,” kai cuts in defensively. “she was alone until i came and got her.” beomgyu is actually a little embarrassed by this blatant callout, but he’d sooner die than admit it.

“well, she should’ve said something, at least,” he counters, face still hot and voice still as loud as ever.

“i thought you were going home with that girl,” you reply meekly. 

“and you couldn’t just ask?!” he snaps. 

“you’re being an asshole,” kai argues. “nobody wants to watch you tonguing down some random girl, and she’s not your babysitter.” the room is deathly quiet after this. beomgyu is fishing for words, but he’s too drunk to quite think of any at the moment. he wishes he were sober so he could put kai in his place, but the words never come. all he knows is he’s pissed beyond anything he can properly articulate and it’s driving him crazy. 

“you’re drunk,” kai adds sternly. “go home.” 

“hyuka, it's okay,” you say gently. “he's too drunk for that. he can crash on the couch.” beomgyu doesn't know why, but he scowls at the nickname.

“but —”

“it's okay,” you repeat. kai’s face looks torn. 

“alright, then i'll head out,” he relents after a few seconds. “the both of you just need some sleep,” he says with a sharp glance towards beomgyu, who is still fuming, by the way.

“thank you,” you say with a terse smile. he returns it with a smile of his own and shuts the door behind him. beomgyu watches the entire interaction and somehow feels even worse.

“what the fuck was that? is he the guy you’re hung up on or something?” 

“no!” you exclaim incredulously. “hyuka is a nice guy, and he’s just… helping me with some things right now.” you’re not the most eloquent person on a good day, much less while drunk, so that’s all you can really say at the moment.

“what ‘things’ could he possibly be helping you with?” he snaps before realization dawns on him. “you told him about that guy, didn’t you?! you can tell him but you can’t tell me?” 

“he… he just understands,” you say. you knew beomgyu wouldn’t just let this shit go and be done with it. he’s like a child finding out his dog likes somebody better than he likes him, and it’s exhausting.

“are you sleeping with him?” 

“what, no!”  you say firmly. 

“you are, aren’t you?” he sneers. “you won’t let me touch you, but you’re letting him?” 

“is it so hard to believe that a man just wants to be my friend without wanting to fuck me?” truthfully, yes. you’re good looking and his experience tells him that men always harbor those intentions. well, he does, at least. and for some reason, as he looks at you in your big t-shirt and sweatpants, those intentions are brewing even more. 

“beomgyu?” you ask tentatively. his eyes are so intense it seems like he’s even more pissed off,  somehow. your innocent look stokes the flames of what’s already been burning for you.

as if he’s possessed, he stalks his way over to you, grabs your face before you can even react, and plants a bruising kiss on your soft lips. you gasp when he meanly takes your bottom lip between his teeth and he can’t help but chuckle. the kiss is cruel for so many reasons, but you’d be lying if you said it didn’t knock you off of your feet. you’re usually so restrained around him for reasons only you and kai know, but you feel your inhibitions melt as his tongue enters your mouth. he tastes like alcohol, but then, so do you, and he doesn’t seem to mind. in fact, if his hungry kiss in any indication, he seems to love it. 

one of his hands travel under your big hoodie and he tweaks your already hardened nipple between his fingers. 

“does that feel good, baby?” he asks lowly, and you feel yourself becoming even more wet. you're too embarrassed to respond, but judging from his tone, he already knows your answer. 

his kisses are unrelenting and fierce, no gentleness or care to be seen, but you’re so sweet he can’t control himself. he’s been wanting to do this ever since he hit puberty, but you’ve never seemed interested in him for reasons he can’t understand. but now, you seem more than interested as you let him lead you to your bedroom. he lays you down on your bed and takes off your sweatpants. when he sees you, naked and glistening just from a few touches, he licks his lips in anticipation.

“all this from a few kisses?” he teases, rubbing his fingers up and down your slit. you can do nothing but gasp in response as he pushes one of his long, calloused fingers into your heat.

“s-so tight, it’s sucking me in,” he moans. “i can’t wait to see how you feel around my cock.” he adds a second finger and curls, hitting your sweet spot. all you can do is moan as he takes his thumb and rolls your clit. he watches your body rise and fall with the pleasure and it fascinates him like nothing he’s ever seen. your eyes are screwed shut, but he can’t help but prod and tease to see the different facial expressions you show him. before long, he’s pounding into you. the sound of squelches mixed with your moans only goads him further and further until you’re clenching down mercilessly on his fingers.

“aww, does that feel good, baby?” he coos. “wanna feel even better?” post-release clarity should hit you right about now, but you’re only more eager when he removes his clothes. his lengthy cock, angry and reddened, springs up and slaps his stomach. you whimper at the sight and he smirks at how needy you are.

he hovers over you and slowly, agonizingly slowly, he begins to rub his stiffened length up and down your slit. 

“gyu, you need a condom —” you begin to protest.

“why? i’m clean. and i don’t fuck just anyone raw,” he argues as the head of his cock comes dangerously close to hooking on your entrance. you’ve never been able to say no to him for any meaningful amount of time, so relenting isn’t out of the ordinary for you. but more than that, his words, though unromantic, spark a bit of hope in your heart. you’re special, you think. 

“do you trust me?” he asks. 

no. not at all.

“of course.” and he pushes in. his arrogance falters as you take him in, inch by throbbing inch. it’s a tight fit, and the way you clench around the tip of his cock only drives him further and further into madness. how can you feel so good? how can this feel so perfect? 

your poor pussy is equal parts trying to suck him in and trying to resist so the intrusion is forced out. to him, it feels like heaven. 

“t-tight!” he hisses. “relax, baby, or you’re gonna break me.” for some reason, his words comfort you, allowing him smooth entry until he’s completely sheathed in you. you both moan when he completely bottoms out, balls hitting your ass in the most lewd way. his precum mixed with the result of your release seep into the bedsheets. he stays there for just a moment, pushing your hair out of your face, and his next words are uncommonly tender.

“you look so pretty like this,” he muses, and you don’t even have time to blush before he’s unsteadily pulling out, pussy pulling him back in like it never wants him to leave, then thrusting back in again. 

“oh m-my god,” he says as he begins to ram into you. “so good, baby. you’re taking me so well.” 

“b-big!” is all you can manage to say as he continues to fuck you open.

“oh baby, are you going dumb on my cock? can’t even manage to get the words out, can you? it’s okay, don’t think. i’ll take care. of. you,” he says, punctuating each word with his mean thrusts. 

you’re crying now, the pleasure too great to stifle your tears. beomgyu thinks you look absolutely lovely like this, lovelier than anyone he’s ever seen, especially when he looks at where you two are joined and watches himself enter and exit your puffy pussy. each gasp, each breathy whine you emit makes him feel crazier and crazier. he aches so much, he has no choice but to continue pounding into you until he's relieved. so he does. he’s gripping the plush of your thighs like he might die if he doesn’t have something to hold onto. 

he leans over to give you a nasty kiss, all tongue and teeth. when he parts from you, a lewd string of saliva falls from your mouths and he can’t control the chuckle that escapes him when he sees your pupils are blown out as you flounder for his lips again. 

“look, baby. look at how good i’m fucking you.” you look down and see how his cock protrudes from your tummy as he rams in and out of you. “nobody else has fucked you right, but don’t worry, i’ll make sure to fix that.” your pussy involuntarily clenches at his filthy words and it’s enough to make you come.

“c-coming!” you manage to choke out as you spasm around him, back arching deliciously. he follows soon after, thrusts becoming uneven before you feel his cum shooting inside of you.

-

fucking beomgyu comes naturally, and often. he can’t seem to keep his hands off of you. hooking up becomes almost a daily affair, but you’re so hungry for him you can’t bring yourself to protest. you fuck in his car, on his couch, over the fucking kitchen counter, even. all plans to go out with anyone else are immediately dashed in favor of being with him, instead. you feel yourself falling deeper and deeper in love with him, and even if you know, know, know it’s fruitless, you can’t help but relent when he looks at you like a man starved. 

“this can’t be good for you,” kai tells you one evening in the comfort of your apartment. it’s a rare occurrence to have a free night from beomgyu’s clutches. kai hasn’t seen you in weeks because you’ve been too “busy” with beomgyu. 

“well, i know,” you sigh, too tired to argue with him. 

“if you know, then why do you do it?” he asks tentatively. you can’t help but give him a look. 

“you know why,” you say. 

“he's just messing with your head. you know this can't end well.” you flinch at the word “end”. you know it, he knows it, beomgyu surely fucking knows it, but you can’t help but give in every time. “what are you gonna do when he inevitably fucks you over? and he will, just like always.”

“i… i’ll deal with it when the time comes,” you protest. he sees your defeated expression and lightly tilts your head so it’s resting on his shoulder. your retribution for your actions was always well on its way, but you didn’t know it would come so soon. 

you hear a key turning in the door. there’s only one person in the world you’ve given a spare to, so you aren’t surprised in the slightest when beomgyu walks in with that signature smirk on his face. he scowls a bit when he’s greeted with the scene of you and kai sitting so intimately.

“am i interrupting something?” he scoffs as you raise your head from kai’s shoulder.

“no,” kai replies before you can even fix your lips to respond. to your mild surprise, he doesn't push any further.

“whatever,” he shrugs, plopping down next to the two of you and pulling out his phone.

“wanna see this girl whose number i got today?” he asks casually, swiping through his phone eagerly. so that's why he didn't wanna meet up. your heart feels like a hole’s been blown straight through it. you and kai share a deep look, which beomgyu completely misses as he pulls up a picture of a beautiful looking girl. 

“this is her,” he says with a triumphant smirk. you don’t — can’t — respond. you just have a blank look on your face.

“what?” he asks petulantly. “she’s really pretty, look!” he insists, pulling up another picture. “she’s one of the hottest girls i’ve seen in a minute.”

any last shred of hope or dignity you have is strangled in its crib at his careless words. your eyes are hot and your stomach hurts so much you feel like you’re going to vomit. kai notices your discomfort and decides to put a stop to this once and for all.

“alright, that’s enough,” kai snaps. “nobody wants to see that shit.”

“what’s your fucking problem?” beomgyu retorts.

“my problem is that you’re a fucking moron. grow up.” beomgyu’s not one to get physical, at least not in a violent sense, but he’s on the precipice of breaking that streak at kai’s harsh words.

“stop, hyuka. it’s okay,” you say softly. beomgyu is so furious, he almost forgot you’re here, but he's genuinely confused by kai’s words.

“what's okay? what is it that you're not telling me?” beomgyu asks. 

“it's not okay, actually. he’s fucking you but he comes around and pulls this shit right in front of you?! she won’t say it, but i will.” 

“kai, don’t —” 

“she doesn’t care! no strings attached, that’s always been the deal.”

“you may be stupid as fuck, but surely you’re not that stupid,” kai sneers. “so if you say you don’t already know, you’re just a fucking liar.” beomgyu pauses at this. is he saying what he thinks he’s saying? surely you didn’t catch feelings, right? but one look at your face, and he knows kai is telling the truth. 

but why? and when?

“since when did you…”

“since always,” you say quietly. 

“oh, fuck. look, i —”

“it’s okay. i already know,” you cut in. and you do already know, but you can’t bear to hear him say it. beomgyu, in all his glory, processes this and instead of regret, all he feels is anger.

“i’m the piece of shit guy you can’t get over? are you fucking serious?”

“hyuka, you should go,” you say instead of letting him watch the melodrama unfolding before him. kai looks uncertainly between the both of you before relenting. 

“call me later, okay?” he says, wiping tears from your eyes that you didn’t realize had fallen.

“okay,” you reply with a sad smile. he sends beomgyu one last scathing look before gathering his shit and slamming the door behind him. 

“you tricked me!” beomgyu exclaims as soon as the door shuts. “i would’ve never fucked you if i knew you’d be like this.” just like everyone else. he doesn’t need to voice the last part, but you already know he wants to say it, which just hurts you even more.

“did you really not know, or were you just pretending not to know ‘cause it’d be inconvenient for you?” that shuts him up. kai was right, he’d be stupid not to know. maybe not at first, but surely along the way. surely when you’d look at him so longingly after sleeping with him, or the way you’d look so sad when he didn't stay after sex.

“listen, i’m so sorry that you’re scared, or angry, or whatever it is you’re feeling. i really am. but are you so selfish that you really think nobody else is afraid to have their heart broken? and do you think that means you’re allowed to hurt everyone else instead?” you ask quietly. every new word pierces his heart like nothing he's ever felt before. he wants to say something, but for the life of him, he can’t think of anything quite fitting. 

“i think you should leave,” you say after what feels like an eternity of silence. he looks at you with watery eyes and you almost feel guilty, but you’re through with feeling things for him that he’d never have the courtesy to feel for you. “go,” you repeat defeatedly, striding to the door and holding it open for him and he feels more and more like a rat you want to chase out of your home.

he looks like he wants to say something, but one look at you tells him you’re done listening. with heavy feet and an even heavier heart, he heads through the doorway, pausing only before he’s about to cross the threshold. he has a sinking feeling in his gut that tells him this is probably the last time he’ll be here. 

“are we still friends after this?” he asks lowly, eyes wide and more desperate than you’ve ever seen them. 

“no,” you say simply, and shut the door.

notes: not a ton of smut in this part, but i think the next part will have more i fear.

taglist: @my313 @superbbananananana @lonelybutterflytae @cherrycolaberry @everythingvirgoes @beomnoullitheorem @sunny4cast

[stevieschrodinger]

Part One Two Three

“Ow, not so hard man.” Eddie seems to be absolutely fascinated with Steve’s leg hair. Which, okay, Steve kind of understands, Eddie has neither legs nor leg hair, so he gets why it would be weird. He kind of wishes Eddie wouldn’t tug quite so hard though.

Eddie’s just demolished a big bowl of green things, and Steve’s sitting on the edge, legs dangling in the water where Eddie’s hovering, touching Steve’s skin with his slightly warmer than pool water temperature fingers. He’s scratching a little too, but it’s only a tiny bit, very gently, so Steve doesn’t mind. Eddie clearly doesn’t intend to harm him, and seems more fascinated with the thin white lines he’s leaving on Steve’s tanned skin.

Eddie gives a particularly vicious tug, Steve jerks, “Ow! Fuck. No, no more. Finished.” He sits up, pulling his legs clear of the water, waving Eddie away.

“Inied?”

“Yeah, finished. Ow. It hurts. You hurt me.”

Eddie tilts his head, swimming closer, “Steeee. Ow.”

Steve sighs, “Yes, ow. I’ll be back later.”

“I’m sure. Steve is the only one who feeds him, right?”

Steve and Robin both nod.

“Right, so, from his point of view, if he interpreted that as Robin trying to like, harm Steve, then his food supply would be jeopardized. He's just, resource guarding or whatever.”

“So...no play fighting within Eddie flopping distance?”

Dustin nods, “pretty much yeah, anything that could be interpreted as risk to Steve, I guess. Or, when Robin is here, she takes Eddie his food. Or anyone really, anytime anyone else is here. That way Eddie will start to see Steve isn’t his only resource.”

“Okay, yeah, that’s probably a good idea anyway,” Steve easily agrees, the now bare patches on his shins are still kind of stinging.

Robin returns with her bowl still full of veg, “he just won’t touch it. There’s still peas floating in the pool from last time.”

Steve sighs, “I really don���t know why he’s being like this.”

“Maybe he’s just pissed at me,” she shoves the bowl at Dustin, “you try.”

They all watch through the window as Dustin heads to the pool. They can tell from how he’s standing that Eddie’s at the end furthest away. Dustin kneels, tries offering things. It’s not long before he quits and comes back.

“How long did it take before he would eat? Maybe we just need to persevere?”

Robin disagrees, “once we figured what he would eat, it was pretty much straight away he was taking stuff from Steve.”

“Okay, so maybe it’s like, a trust thing, so if we stick this out long enough, eventually he will get hungry enough to give in, right?”

“We’re not doing that,” it just immediately strikes Steve as cruel, “he’s not put on enough weight yet for us to be fucking with his food supply.”

“Okay...okay yeah.”

Steve blinks awake. He’s not sure what woke him, but he’s almost certain he just heard something. He lies still straining to listen and yeah, he definitely heard something. Something or someone moving around downstairs. Steve quietly shifts, groping for the nail bat leaning against the wall as he slides out of bed, his heart feels like it's crawling up into his throat. He almost hopes it's a regular old burglary and not, like, monsters.

He creeps downstairs, luckily he was already sleeping in a tank top and shorts. He’s nearly to the bottom of the stairs when he hears it; a clunking noise and then, “Steee.”

He carefully puts the bat down immediately; figures Eddie got into the house somehow. Steve allows himself a moment to calm down, breathe deep and slow for a minute even as, in his head, he's calling Dustin a little shithead and blaming him for leaving the back door unlocked.

At the bottom of the stairs he can peer around the corner to see Eddie sitting in the hall. It’s light enough for Steve to make out that Eddie’s sitting quite tall, his tail curled into an ‘s’ shape underneath him. He has the phone from the hall side table held carefully next to his head, exactly like...well...like a regular person on the phone would, and while Steve is there, he says, “Steee,” uncertainly into the receiver.

For a moment, Steve is tempted to sneak up to the phone in his parents room and lift the receiver so he can answer Eddie, but quickly dismisses it; Eddie’s limited vocabulary makes it kind of pointless, anyway.

“Hey Eddie,” Steve steps off the bottom step.

“Stee!” Eddie turns to Steve, it's almost strange to see him without his sunglasses on now, and his eyes reflect what little light there is in a strange, silvery flash. He seems to remember then that he's holding something, forgotten for a second with the clear excitement of finding Steve, and he replaces the receiver on the cradle with surprising care; Steve wonders vaguely if he was just listening to the dial tone.

Eddie moves through the house, walking on his hands and using a unexpectedly efficient twist of his tail to push him along; he’s much more comfortable on land than Steve would have given him credit for. He stops and looks back, clearly waiting for Steve to follow him. Steve does. Dutifully following Eddie through the house, and it’s not until Steve’s at the door that he realizes it's not Dustin's fault at all – the spare key is in the lock. He doesn’t keep one out front – that’s just asking for trouble – but he keeps one out back. One that is only for absolute emergencies only, and it’s very specifically under the third plant pot along. Eddie must have seen Robin or one of the kids let themselves in and then just...worked it out for himself.

Well, huh, Steve thinks as he follows Eddie out into the yard and across the grass, past the pool and along to the tree line.

Steve wonders vaguely if Eddie actually does this often, getting out of the pool and exploring at night; he doesn’t seem to struggle, and he clearly knows where he’s going, passing through the tree line at the bottom of the yard and then a little further in.

Eddie comes to a stop, and when Steve gets there he sees what Eddie is looking at. It’s a bird. A pigeon probably, like a wood pigeon or something, if Steve’s very limited knowledge of birds is to be believed. It’s lying on the grass, clearly dead.

Steve crouches and watches as Eddie, very gently strokes the fluffy breast feathers of the bird, “Ow. Inied.”

Steve sighs he guesses finished is one way to put it, “yeah, yeah buddy. Uhm. Dead,” Steve pulls Eddie’s hand away, “dead. Don’t touch it. It’s dead.”

“Dead,” Eddie cocks his head.

“Yeah,” Steve yawns, getting sleepy again now the adrenaline’s died down and there’s clearly no danger, “come on, back to bed. Or, you know, the pool.”

Eddie’s reluctant to move at first, but then does when Steve gestures, sliding soundlessly back into the water.

“See you tomorrow buddy.”

“Budidy. Edidie.”

“Yeah, near enough.”

“Do you think he killed the bird?”

“Nah, there wasn’t any obvious like, injury or anything. And you should have seen how gentle he was with it Robs...it was like he felt bad, you know.”

She hums in agreement, “he must have seen someone at the lab use a phone, do you think?”

Steve figured the same, once he’d finished his night’s sleep and actually pondered on it. “Pretty sure he doesn’t know how to actually use it, he was just copying. But the fact that he worked out they were using it to talk to other people, that’s pretty smart, right?”

“Maybe we can teach him to use it?” Robin eats more waffle with her fingers, smearing the broken up bits through the cream. They’re sitting out on the pool chairs for breakfast.

“Dunno, numbers and stuff. A walkie though? I think he might be able to-”

“Steee! Steeee!” Eddie calls him from the water, arms resting on the sides. He’s smiling, looking happy, shades firmly in place today.

“What buddy?”

Eddie points confidently at the sky, “dead!”

Steve looks up; birds. There’s birds flying over.

“Oh no- birds. Eddie those are birds.”

He looks so confused, but Steve suddenly has an idea, “where you going dingus?”

“Be right back a second,” Steve heads into the lounge and runs his fingers along the lowest shelf of books, easily finding the thick children's encyclopedia he got for his birthday one year when he was little. He’s never even opened it, thought it was a shit present, but it’ll do for this.

He opens it on his way back to the pool, finding a page with a big colorful picture of loads of birds on it, sitting by the side of the pool where Eddie can see, “bird.”

“Buurd,” Eddie drags the word out, definitely making it more than a ‘u’ than an ‘i’ sound, but it’s definitely near enough.

“Yeah that’s right,” Steve lays the book out on the edge of the pool, “don’t get it too wet.”

Eddie tilts his head, “et.”

Steve slaps the water, “wet. Uhm.” Tapping the book, Steve says, “finished.”

Eddie looks at his hands, frowning.

“Right, wait,” Steve goes and grabs a towel, left forgotten on a pool chair, and brings it to the edge, “here,” Eddie’s close enough for Steve to take his hands easily, “wet,” after a moment of ruffling Eddie’s hands with the towel, Steve tells him, “dry.” Then he taps the book, “dry. Wet finished.”

He waits to see what Eddie will do, but he holds his hands carefully out of the water before he lifts himself to touch the book.

Steve turns to a page at random, showing Eddie a page with all sorts of big cats on it, lions and tigers and stuff like that, “go on, you do it.”

Steve gestures at Eddie, and, cautiously as he lets his elbows take his weight, Eddie carefully turns the page.

Part five

[palms-upturned]

I’m late to this whole debacle but for the record, I have been messaged by people in Gaza who thought that I was involved in the fundraiser vetting process and sent me photos of their government IDs and documentation. I know a little of what Hussein, Nairuz, Ahmed, Ibtisam, and others use to vet people and make sure that they’re legit, and that’s part of why I confidently cite them as a source. To try and discredit them and smear them as scam artists, along with the genocide victims that they’re trying so hard to help, is fucking beyond the pale.

The reason I’ve been inactive on this blog and focusing instead on compiling resources in order to bring more ppl onto the fundraiser blog is that the work I was doing was spiraling into a 12-hour a day endeavor with just myself, and it was making me so physically and mentally ill that I could barely move or think, so I had to step back and figure out a better way to organize things. And I’m not even doing the actually hard part of this work. I do not vet people. I do not have any skin in this game as a white USAmerican. It’s not my family who are dying in Gaza. I also have not been targeted for harassment or account bans. I literally cannot fucking fathom the physical and mental strain that Palestinian bloggers on this platform have been going through nonstop for nearly a year now.

I still remember being shocked when I saw that Hussein had come back to tumblr after having to take a break due to having a heart attack. Ibtisams, who vetted people and organized all sorts of fundraising efforts all while grieving her father and little sister killed in Gaza, was forced to come back to tumblr to make a statement about how she was in an inpatient facility because people had the gall to impersonate her in order to scam people. Ahmed literally escaped Gaza because of a very well documented fundraising effort here on tumblr, no thanks to the cunts at GoFundMe who made things as difficult as possible every step of the way, and has since spent time and effort helping other people who had hopes of sharing his success. Calling these people scammers is fucking unbelievable. Some of you wouldn’t know solidarity if it bit you in the ass.

If getting messages in your inbox from people trying to escape a genocide makes you uncomfortable, fucking suck it up. Or disable your inbox, I guess. Do literally anything else besides using your platform to direct harassment and slander at people who are trying to survive a genocide. This website is already quite literally engaging in tech apartheid by targeting users in Gaza so constantly, you don’t need to gleefully join in by tagging staff and asking them to terminate people. Fucking unconscionable behavior. I hope that it will follow everyone involved for the rest of their lives.

[luveline]

can I pls pls pls get an other single dad Spencer I'm on my knees here jade baby! I would love a fic where they r dating and reader comes over and basically Amy is like ur his gf?? But I thought u were my best friend?! And she's upset and reader is just like babe I can be both! Obvs we r bffs! And then May be she asks Spencer if she can take amy out of ice cream or something just the girls

thank you for your request! fem, 1.4k

Peeling Amy’s grapes is a repetitive, calming task. You press your nail to the top of the grape where the stalk had been, carving away a sliver of the fruit as you pinch the skin and pull. It comes away in small, triangular pieces that you put in the bowl on your lap. 

You put the naked grape in Amy’s hand. They’re seedless, so all she has to do is chew. 

“Thank you,” she says, distracted by the TV. 

“You’re welcome.” You move to another grape. 

You’re sitting together on the couch in Spencer’s apartment. Spencer sits at the dining table across the way, writing a letter, his eyebrows furrowed in concentration. Bright afternoon sunlight ebbs in through the window behind the kitchen sink to kiss his arms and illuminate his workspace, a beam of it catching his arm, his fine hairs like strands of gold. 

“Spence?”

“Yeah?” 

“Are we still going to the library?” 

“Yeah…” His writing gets very fast. He finishes it off with a smile and a resounding period, picking the paper up and folding it in a clean half. “I can post my letter at the same time.” 

You watch him give his hair a vigorous scratching as he stands. “I’m gonna go get a sweater,” he says, making for his bedroom. 

You follow him until he’s gone. Amy hums, kid-talk for please pay attention to me. 

“Oh, sorry. Forgot your grapes.” 

“Why do you look at him like that?” 

You smile shyly. “Uh, like what?” 

Her brown eyes widen as her eyebrows pinch together. “I don’t know. You looked at him for a long time.” 

“I guess I like looking at him, ‘cos I really like him. You’re beautiful because of so many things, but your dad is part of the reason. He’s beautiful, so you’re beautiful.” 

She wrinkles her nose, but she’s smiling. “You really like him?” she whispers. 

“Of course I do,” you whisper back, “he’s my boyfriend.” 

Amy winces hard. “What?” she asks. 

She’s suddenly and emphatically incredulous. You take her hand, but she takes it right back and stands up on the couch. She gives you a weird look as she backs away, sitting heavily on the armrest. “He’s your boyfriend?” 

“Why do you think I’m always here these days?” 

You know you’ve said the complete wrong thing the moment it leaves your mouth. You’re honestly shocked she didn’t know; Amy is a very smart little girl, and you were under the impression she knew about you and her father being a couple. But she’s also just a little girl, with big feelings. 

“I thought you were here to see me,” she says softly. 

You push the bowl of grapes across the coffee table, remorseful. “Amy, I’m sorry. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that. I come here to see you, too, of course I do, I love spending time with you.” 

Her eyes fill with tears. She’s not a crocodile crier, at least not when you’re around. You know these to be the genuine deal, and that makes it much worse for you. 

“Babe, I’m sorry! I really didn’t mean it like that, I promise. I’m here to see you, too, it’s not just to see your dad.” 

“Because we’re best friends,” she says. 

“Of course we are.” You open your hands. “Of course.” 

She finally takes your hands, despite her tears. Her face has turned dark with a hot flush, embarrassment twisting her lips into an expression that turns your heart. 

“I’m sorry for what I said,” you whisper. “Can you forgive me? You’re so important to me, Amanda.” 

Spencer appears behind her looking like a deer caught in bright headlights. You ignore him, giving Amy’s fingers a rolling squeeze. 

“I thought we were best friends– and– and–” She sucks in a shaky breath as a fresh crest of tears fall. “I thought you were here to see me.” 

“I am here to see you.” 

You’ve done loads of things with Amy without Spencer’s involvement. If he sleeps in, you and Amy watch cartoons together in your pyjamas eating breakfast burritos. You’ve babysat her on short notice, you had her for a sleepover once so he could give a talk in Michigan. You and Amy do tons of things without her father, like eating peeled grapes, and jigsaw puzzles while he reads, and girl talk. You cuddle. 

Poor girl. 

“Amy, I love you.” 

“You do?” 

“So much!” You wipe the tears from her chin. 

“I didn’t know that– that dad was your boyfriend,” she says bashfully. 

“Me and your dad started as best friends, that’s why. He’s my second bestest friend ever.” 

“Who’s number one?” she asks. 

You poke her chest gently. “Who do you think?” 

She nods and looks down. She wipes her cheeks, and that’s what upsets you the most in the whole ordeal. Her hands look small and uncoordinated. 

“You okay, angel?” Spencer asks, coming up from behind to hug her. 

“Sorry,” she says. 

“It’s okay. Crying is okay,” he murmurs. “What happened?” 

“I didn’t know you were boyfriend and girlfriend.” 

“I’m sorry, I thought you knew,” Spencer says, giving her arm a soft up and down, “when I told you we were dating I should’ve been more clear about what that means. I’m very sorry we confused you.” 

“It’s good!” she says, sniffling, pressing a little sob into Spencer’s chest. 

You bite your cheek. You really hadn’t meant to do this to her, just she’s as empathetic as her father. She’s a bubbling mess against him. 

You look at Spencer. It’s your fault, you misspoke, and you’re asking him to save you as a kindness. 

“What’s making you cry, sweetheart?” he whispers, pulling her right into his chest. 

“I just wanted to be her best friend.” 

“You are,” he whispers, nose against her temple, “I might be her boyfriend, but you think she likes me so much she’s here every single weekend? No way. She sees me every day at work, she doesn’t need to come over if all she wants to do is see me. But you know who she doesn’t see at work?” 

“Me…” 

“Exactly. She comes here every weekend to be with you, so we can all be together. Okay?” 

“Okay,” she says, taking in another shaky breath. 

“Are you crying because you’re still upset, or because it’s just a feeling?” he asks softly, slowly. “It’s okay if you’re still sad, but maybe we need to have some water?” 

“Okay,” she says, stretching it into one big cry. 

“Could I give you a hug?” you ask. You’re lost. 

She nods. Spencer says, “Okay, you guys hug and I’ll go get my Amy a glass of water.” 

You fold Amy into an embrace carefully. She’s heavy with her upset but she wants the hug, her arms at your sides as she rubs her nose against your shoulder. “Amy,” You say, taking a pause to brush her hair from her warm neck, “I’m sorry, angel. I really am. I didn’t mean to upset you.” 

She sounds just like her dad as she replies. “I didn’t mean to cry.” 

“Well, that’s okay! If I thought you didn’t want to be my friend either I would be just as upset.” 

“You would?” 

“Amy, do you know how much I love seeing you? I would sit here and watch TV and peel grapes with you every day of the week, I’d love to…” You hope Spencer won’t mind what you’re about to suggest. “In fact, maybe you and I need to do more things together, what do you think? When was the last time we went to Penny’s Ice Cream Parlour?” 

She looks up at you with love and apt suspicion. “You just want me to feel better.” 

“Of course I do. I should be allowed to take my favourite girl for ice cream, right?” 

Spencer hesitates in the kitchen with the fairy glass half full. You’re stroking Amy’s hair away from her neck, so sorry, and so lovely. He couldn’t want anything more in life than Amy, but if he got to choose, he would love to have you, and to have you treat her as you are now, nothing but affection in your touch as you soothe her overstimulation. “We can go alone?” Amy asks. 

“Sure, bubby, we can go just you and me. Banana splits?” 

Spencer loves her, but he loves ice cream, too. “Wait, why can’t I come?”

[ghsface]

Hi k have a kinda specific request that I thought would make a good fic! I was thinking that maybe we see the BAU and y/n and Spencer the morning after Yk… the girls figure out that y/n just got layes and they do the whole bonding girl gossip thing. Derek sees Spencer wearing a scarf and makes a joke about it, only to realize that he was right. Penelope tells Derek and then without y/n or Spencer realizing like everyone knows. They also figure out why Reid is the only one with hikeys 🫢 and yeah…. Thanks queen! I hope this makes sense

New Message ✮⋆˙

Hey gorgeous, I love this idea so much, it was very fun to write I hope you like 🎀 🩷

our secret, not so secret - Spencer Reid

Sumary: You and Spencer try to hide your relationship, but it's hard when you have hickeys on your neck.

Warnings: fluff, jokes, hickeys, the bau being chaotic, I think that's all, this is pure fluff,

A/n: I'm sorry if there is something wrong or not understood, my first language is not English.

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It was a chaotic morning for you. You woke up a little late and the mess was evident in Spencer's bathroom mirror, with those little reminders on your neck that not even the concealer could completely hide. You were aware that you were trying a desperate maneuver, but well, Spencer had already warned you that the makeup would not last the entire day. Still, you were determined not to leave any evidence, you applied the last layer of foundation before leaving his apartment, determined not to give any clues about what happened the night before.

For Spencer, the situation was not much different. She decided to cover the marks with a scarf, trying to act normal as they prepared to face another day of work at the BAU, as if everything was perfectly under control. The two of you looked at each other knowingly before leaving, in an attempt to keep your relationship a secret... again.

Arriving at the office, you said good morning as if nothing had happened. But it wasn’t long before Emily and JJ, who seemed to have a radar for these matters, caught you in their line of sight. They looked you up and down with a mischievous grin, and without missing a beat, JJ raised an eyebrow and fired the first bullet: “And that face, Y/N? Long night?”

You tried to shake your head with a nervous laugh, avoiding looking at the two too much, but Emily stepped closer, lowering her tone so as not to draw too much attention. “Oh, come on, babe. There’s a sparkle in your eyes… and, from what I see, on your neck too.”

With your heart in your throat, you quickly glanced at your reflection in a nearby frame and noticed that the base had already begun to fade, leaving a faint purple mark showing. Emily and JJ glanced at each other, and then Penelope, who appeared out of nowhere as if she had smelled the drama, also joined the small circle. “Please let me guess… was anyone busy last night?”

Between laughs and accusations, you tried to defend yourself without much success. You knew they were trying to provoke you and that, at this rate, the secret wasn't going to last long. Emily and JJ's laughter soon attracted Derek, who approached with a mocking smile. “What's up, girls? Something I'm missing?”

Emily gave him a knowing look and pointed towards the entrance, where Spencer had just appeared with a very inconspicuous scarf. Derek narrowed his eyes and laughed. “Since when does Spencer wear scarves? It's spring, for God's sake.”

They all looked at each other, hiding their laughter, as Derek approached Spencer. With an attitude that only Derek could adopt, he patted him on the back and gave him a knowing smile. “Pretty boy… do you need some advice on how to handle the weather?”

Spencer froze for a second, trying not to lose his cool. He knew he had been caught. He tried to respond with a vague excuse about “changing his style” and “protecting his throat,” but Derek simply held up his hands in an innocent gesture. “Sure, sure, I imagine the weather was intense last night, right?”

Meanwhile, you were trying not to burst out laughing at Spencer's obvious blush and despair. But Derek, who had caught on to the whole situation, turned around to join Emily, JJ, and Penelope again, winking at the girls. “See what I'm saying? Our genius boy is growing up.”

Before Spencer could respond, Hotch walked past the group, observing the laughter and commotion with his usual seriousness. But something in his expression betrayed that he fully understood what the conversation was about.

“Anything you want to share?” he asked, without losing his composure.

Derek shook his head with a smile, but took the opportunity to continue provoking. “Nothing, Hotch. It just seems that some of your colleagues have… interesting extracurricular activities.”

Hotch cast a quick glance at you, who were trying to make yourself small at your desk, and then at Spencer, with her suspicious scarf. For the first time, a barely perceptible smile crossed his face.

“I guess ‘activities’ require a little more discretion next time, too, huh?” Hotch said, before continuing on his way.

As the team laughed and threw around comments, Rossi walked over with a cup of coffee, assessing the scene like the veteran he was. “Ah, youth… that energy and lack of subtlety. There’s nothing like first love at work.”

By then, the rumor had already spread throughout the office.

Hours later, as you tried to continue with your work, Penelope approached with a whisper. “Honey, we all know. You two don’t have to hide anything.” Your surprised expression was enough to make her laugh. “Did you really think you could keep it a secret? Come on, we’re profilers. Wait not me but thay do. Plus… you’ve never come to the office so… happy.”

You decided to give in and accept it, and just as you were about to approach Spencer to tell him, he appeared at your side, still wearing the scarf. When you turned to look at him, he already had that resigned expression on his face that made you laugh. “How much did you hear?” he asked with a sigh, looking around and catching everyone’s smiles.

“Everything?” you said with a mocking smile.

Finally, Derek, with an air of triumph, approached the two of you and announced loudly, “And that’s how it’s done, ladies and gentlemen! Our boy has become quite the man.” The office was filled with laughter and jokes as you and Spencer exchanged glances that were somewhere between nervous and amused.

Emily approached you and, not missing the opportunity, added, “So… how long did you think you were going to last without us finding out? A day, maybe two?”

You bit your lip, embarrassed, and looked at Spencer, who didn’t know whether to laugh or faint. In the end, there wasn’t much else to say.

JJ laughed, giving you a gentle shove. “Relax, Y/N. We knew before you guys realized it. We were just waiting to see how long it would take you to admit it.”

You and Spencer exchanged a resigned look. Maybe their “secret” hadn’t been so secret after all.

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your reblogs and replies are always appreciated dearly, and feel free to leave a request ✮

[lovebugism]

soooo eddie hears or reads somewhere that birthmarks are where your lover from a past life used to kiss you

and as soon as he gets home he wants to make sure that in this present life r still feel this love and that the birthmarks remain the same until their next life together (ugh so cute 🥺)

i changed this up a wee bit but i hope u like it!! — you and eddie kiss birthmarks on the other for the next life (established relationship, fluff, 0.7k)

bug's one year celebration ♡

Eddie traces shapes on your bare back, a post-sex ritual of sorts. It starts out innocent, usually — tiny hearts and flowers and planets that you try hard to guess. It almost always ends with him signing penises onto your spine and laughing out loud every time you realize.

He’s doing it mindlessly now. Touching you just to touch you. His finger trails up your back, circles over your shoulder blades, and then falls back down again. “Did you know you have a birthmark here?” he wonders, breaking the honeyed silence of his tiny bedroom.

Your brows furrow as he traces some sort of outline between your shoulder and spine. “Do I?” you murmur, muffled into the pillow.

“I think so. It’s really faint.”

“Maybe it’s just dirt,” you joke quietly. You don’t see Eddie pull his hand away to lick his finger, but you feel the wet touch of it when it swipes over your back. “Ew, Eddie!” you shout.

“It’s not dirt,” he confirms, choking back a laugh.

“I’ve ever noticed it, I guess. I don’t think I’ve ever looked that hard back there. Like, ever.”

Eddie scoffs, almost in disbelief. “That’s a shame…” he murmurs. 

His finger is gentle and featherlight as it trails down your bare back, leaving chill bumps in its wake. His hand dips below the sheets covering the bottom half of you. His palm spreads unabashedly over your ass, wide and warm. 

“…’Cause there’s a real nice view back here.”

You lift a heavy hand to swat at the boy beside you. It collides halfheartedly with his shoulder. He laughs again. “What?! I’m talking about the birthmark, babe! It’s cute— I love noticing new things about you.”

“Don’t people say that’s how you died in a past life? Wherever your birthmark is?”

Your tired eyes open to find Eddie’s screwed-up face. “Does that mean someone stabbed me in the ass? In, like, the middle ages or some shit? ‘Cause that’s a fucking gnarly way to go.”

“Better than being stabbed in the back… Literally.”

Eddie settles next to you with a huff. He lays on his stomach and shoves half his face into the pillow next to yours, all but melting into the mattress. He keeps tracing the mark on your back with an absentminded touch, never anything but gentle with you.

“Wanna know what I heard?” he mumbles.

“Hm?”

“I heard that birthmarks are where your lover used to kiss you— you know, in a past life or whatever,” he confesses, like it’s a deeply held secret. Then he shrugs his milky white shoulders. “That’s what my mom used to say, anyway. And that woman was never wrong.”

You smile quietly to yourself. Eddie doesn’t talk about his mom very often. You feel a special privilege to be hearing about her now.

“I believe it,” you hum.

His contented grin blooms into something wider and more boyish. “That means someone might’ve been kissing my ass in a past life.”

“That’s awful,” you grumble with a scrunched nose. “Now, I have to give you a new one.”

“Choose wisely, princess,” Eddie lilts and turns onto his back. He spreads his arms out wide and beams when you lean over him. “My future depends on it.”

You don’t think very long. Maybe a moment or more. You press your lips to his chest, just below the faded tattoo on his pec and right over his beating heart. You smile when you pull away, all giddy like a teenage girl, and lay back down again.

Eddie’s chest sparkles with so much adoration it hurts. He laughs it off anyway. “Alright, cheeseball— It’s my turn.”

“You have to do it in the same place!” you argue in a tiny voice when the boy lays over you. He props his weight on his elbows and entwines his legs with yours. The heavy closeness feels like heaven.

“Why?”

“So we’ll have matching birthmarks! And then, when we’re in the next life or whatever, and we look like totally different people, we’ll know we loved each other.”

Eddie scoffs. “I’ll know.”

“How?”

“How will I know that I loved you?” he repeats, like the answer’s obvious and far too silly to ponder. You nod, and he shrugs. “‘Cause I have to. I can’t help it.”

Something warm blooms behind your ribcage. “And I’m the cheesy one?” you tease with a big, girlish grin.

“It’s your fault. You bring the worst outta me, honey.”

You laugh when he drops his head to your chest, pressing a kiss over your heart and lingering there. You pray it stains forever.