#that hurts and is not fun and is not easy

[ambiguouspuzuma]

One thing not really mentioned here (and in other replies I've seen) is that from my memory Legends & Lattes did have high stakes!

This wasn't just about a business failing and plunging the protagonist into bankruptcy. There was the ex-colleague spellcaster out to get her, as well as the local mob closing in. There were threats to life and death as well as turnover.

For me it's more that they were resolved relatively easily. Our protagonist was strong and capable and the plot was largely just a procession of people turning up to offer their help. It felt too easy and predictable. Problems were introduced but then easily brushed aside. They didn't feel real. There was alleged danger, but no tension.

As a contrast, A Rival Most Vial takes a similar premise, and arguably lower stakes, but makes the tension really work by having two protagonists playing off against each other. We're taught to want two things which are in direct contradiction. Suddenly we have a problem where we can't see the easy solution. It's the tension of a tragedy, where we can see both points of view but know they can't both win.

Legends & Lattes didn't work for me because it didn't feel real. As noted above in its favour, it was a list of tasks to be done, and they were all completed in order. It never made me think, and it never really gave me a character to care for. But A Rival Most Vial proves that this is not a limitation of the genre, and nothing to do with the height of the stakes.

Low stakes stories can have plenty of narrative tension and have you fretting and pulling out your hair. The internal stakes just need to be clear, making you understand why the character cares about their goal, and they need to face plausible obstacles - which, in the absence of credible external threats, can be other people. You can write a gripping story based entirely on interpersonal drama, with no higher stakes than hurt feelings and botched relationships. You just need to actually sell that.

Cosy fantasy does work. But it's not just writing a fantasy story, dialling down the setting, and hoping that what's left is enough. It isn't just high-fantasy-light, watering down the dungeons and dragons with something more domestic. If you're removing the epic quest, you need to replace that plot with something else - characters and a premise that would have worked fine as a story in a non-fantasy setting.

It can be a romance, a coming-of-age story, whatever, but it needs to be a plot that could stand on its own feet without the fantasy trappings, and you're just setting it in a fantasy world. I don't feel like Legends & Lattes does that - it seems to start with the fantasy world, and tell a half-hearted story which nobody would want to read otherwise. But I think the core characters and relationships of A Rival Most Vial are compelling in any world, and the fun worldbuilding of their setting is just the frosting on the top.

Cozy Fantasy and Why It Doesn't Work

I think I am among many who feel like they should love cozy fantasy and have found it an incredibly lacking genre.

This newly branded "cozy fantasy" genre that has taken readers by storm since 2020 and while it is new that books are now marketed as cozy, the genre itself isn't new. Howl's Moving Castle by Diana Wynne Jones is a great example of the genre before it was labeled and also how to make it work.

Cozy fantasy is defined by many as fantasy with low stakes. Fantasy aesthetic but less sword fights. On paper, it sounds great. But the execution has been less than stellar for readers like me. The lack of physical stakes has also impacted the emotional stakes of these books, creating forgettable characters with boring problems. As a romance reader, I find this frustrating. Romance is known for being a predictable and formulaic genre, the now defunct Romance Writers of America defined romances as needing happy endings, a term romances have continued to follow. Yet these romance texts manage to have low physical stakes (how to date your neighbor, how to confront your toxic friends, etc) while still maintaining high personal stakes that keep readers invested and begging for more. So I was initially confused why cozy fantasy authors struggle to write texts that connect to readers like me.

I think I have found the answer which is the genre is just here for vibes. It is all about aesthetic, not even worldbuilding that fantasy is known for as most cozy fantasy I read have so many problems as soon as you ask one question. It is hard to acknowledge that a genre that is pitched to work for readers like me doesn't work for many of us. Especially because occasionally there is one that works beautifully to my taste.

I often say my favorite cozy fantasies that are more contemporary are short and visual, which I plays into the idea of the genre being an aesthetic. The Bakery Dragon by Devin Elle Kurtz is a good example because it is a simple story that is given the perfect amount of pages and gorgeous visuals without dragging on when the message is very clear and easy to understand. Books like The Phoenix Keeper and Legends and Lattes have absolutely nothing for me, their very clear message hitting the reader over and over so the readers don't miss it and focusing on the aesthetic of worldbuilding rather than the reality of the fantastic elements within the world.

I guess my point is. . . I realize this genre isn't for me since I have realized it is more of an aesthetic than anything. .. .but I want it to be. Should I let it go and put my efforts elsewhere? Or should I keep exploring this new trend and find the hidden gems?

[soldiersgirl]

your latest posts have me thinking of ben with a perv younger gf reader that has too much energy and talks his ears off for fun 😩

she matches his freak so well that sometimes he's a little dumbfounded ughh

this INSPIRED ME to write a small drabble for it, i just couldn't resist bc she is me and i'm her

summary — just annoying the grandpa x

cw — reader x soldier boy. smut 18+ (if you squint), cursing, flirting, drinking, sarcasm, teasing, billy and hughie make a small appearance.

word count — 1690 words

sure, flirting had been different when ben was younger, but this? the modern way of flirting? even he was out of his depths at times and that certainly took some serious skill and courage to silence him.

it had all started innocently when butcher had reached out to you for a "favour", as he called it. so what, a guy saves your life once and now you owe him? fuck sake.

"babysitting? do i look like a teenager trynna earn some pocket money?" you groan on the phone to butcher.

"listen love. easy gig, quick cash. it couldn't be any fucking simpler. you just need to keep the git alive and out o' trouble, yeah? even you could fucking figure that out." he mumbles in reply.

"what do i get out of it?" you huff as you bend down to tie your shoes, knowing you were going to agree to it, no matter what, but why not tease billy while you're at it?

"get out of it? the cheek on you is astounding. fuck, listen. you get to fuckin' relax and i'll pay for your bloody dinner and give you 100 for it, alright?"

"alright, alright." you hold your phone between your head and shoulder as you pull on your jacket. "text me the address and i'll be there in twenty." you replied. billy merely groaned and then the dial tone. "dick." you scoffed before checking your texts, pulling on your headphones and heading out into the wild jungle of new york.

much to your surprise, your "favour" wasn't as small as billy had made it sound on the phone when you finally showed up at the dingy apartment, alongside him and hughie. you step inside and immediately the smell of sex, weed and fast food overwhelms you as you gaze around at the abandoned take-away boxes and half-drunk whiskey bottles. a towering figure wanders out from the bedroom dressed in grey sweatpants and a new york giants button up t-shirt and a lit joint dangling from his lips. your eyes connect, mirroring the same expression of confusion and disbelief.

"who the fuck is this?" the man huffs as he takes a hit from his thick joint and studies you.

"yeah, butcher..." you turn and cock your head at him in disbelief. "who the fuck is this?" you jut your thumb behind you and hear him let out a low chuckle before both him and butcher erupt into a fit of laughter. you stare at hughie for an ounce of help but he looks equally as uncomfortable as you. "billy, when you said babysit, i thought you meant for a fucking 5 year old or something!"

"alright sweetheart, i am 105 so, close enough and i don't need no cock-suckin' babysitter anyway." he swaggers closer and sits down at the cluttered, rickety kitchen table and takes a swig of the closest whiskey bottle.

"you're literally not helping the situation, grandpa." you turn and sneer at him. he only guffaws and inhales more of his joint.

"what a firecracker you've got yourself there, butcher. if she doesn't rope in her fuckin' attitude, i can't guarantee she's alive when you come back." he says calmly, as if it's the most normal thing to say. you jerk forward but butcher and hughie quickly pull you back.

"excuse us a minute, mate." butcher smiles and drags you into the hallway as you continue to protest and shout insults at the asshole.

"you've finally lost your mind if you think i'm fucking sticking around and babysitting an actual murderer." you begin, but butcher quickly cuts you off.

"listen love, he's just kidding, alright? the fella's 105, right? he's doped up on all kinds of meds, he can't hurt a fly right now. plus, he's saving his energy so you're not in any real danger. trust me." billy sways as he gives you that devilish smile, you've grown to know too well. "just keep soldier boy entertained and busy, let him talk your fucking ear off. doesn't get easier." he shrugs.

"... soldier boy?" you pause. butcher rolls his eyes and with the help of hughie, they quickly describe their catastrophic trip to russia and discovering the bastard was still alive and how they plan to use him to stop homelander. you can only nod and hum as you try to absorb the severity of the situation, but with a grain of salt.

"alright. look, i'll 'babysit' him this once." you use air quotes before running your hands over your face, not believing what you're agreeing to. "but this, this is fucking crazy."

"yeah, yeah. thanks, love." butcher huffs before dragging you back into the apartment and explaining the situation to soldier boy before handing him another bag of miscellaneous pills. they wish you luck and stuff some bills in your hand for dinner and suddenly, it was just you and the 105-year old man-child stuck together.

the first few hours flew by without an incident and you weren't quite sure how you had managed to listen to his incoherent rants about modern society and the state of feminism without losing your mind. it might have something to do with the fact that he could explode and kill you at any moment, but it could be also be because he offered you good weed in return which made everything much more tolerable.

you had eaten some cheap-ass pizza from a nearby restaurant before settling down with a beer or two and watching whatever was showing on his shitty tv. you would occasionally hum or nod in agreement to whatever nonsense he spewed just to keep him sated; he was so into hearing his own voice that it didn't register to him that he had barely heard yours.

until you were moaning and groaning his name as he ruthlessly thrusted himself into you right there on the same couch, with your ankles dangling above your head and his hand firmly around your throat. you weren't sure how this happened or escalated, but you definitely weren't complaining as you marvelled at his toned body and handsome features. the sly, fox-like grin and matching mischievous eyes, toussled chestnut, brown hair and jawline you could cut yourself on. he pounded into your slick folds at a delicious pace, slowly dragging himself in and out of you and gazing in awe at where your bodies connected. his back scratched up and your throat littered with love bites; leaving little gifts for one another on each others bodies.

you let him take out his years of frustration and pent up anger on your body as you laid and relished in the sensation of it; welcoming every word that slipped past his plush lips and every grab from his calloused hands with a grin on your face as multiple orgasms washed over you and ebbed away at your previous hesitations. and that's how it started, this thing between you and ben.

it wasn't exactly healthy and didn't always work out, considering the amount of times you'd get into shouting matches with the older supe, but billy now had a reliable baby-sitter, so he wasn't going to complain.

"jesus christ, do you ever shut the fuck up?" ben groans as you complain about the state of his apartment, finding pizza crusts scattered around, as well as finding weapons and drugs just laying haphazardly in places where you'd least expect them.

"only when your cock is stuffed into my mouth." you state matter-of-factly as you're bent over and letting your eyes glance over the sad contents of it; a few beers, the aforementioned knife and one expired milk cartoon. ben visibly freezes and splutters, the beer in his mouth catching in his throat. you snap up, slam the fridge and give him a wink whilst hiding your small smirk. there is nothing you loved more than getting under his "thick" skin. you start unpacking the groceries you had gotten for you both; it was going to be another long night of keeping him in line and unlike him, you actually needed to eat.

"back in my day, ladies wouldn't have a mouth on 'em like you do." he scoffed, trying to act like your words weren't affecting him they way you know they were.

"you know ben? you're so fucking stuck in the past, that you have no clue how to function here! we're all trying to help you but you're just too fucking stubborn," you start and he lets out a groan as he knew what this meant; another one of your long tirades about whatever was occupying your mind. he was getting a taste of his own medicine, so he tried to keep his complains to a minimum as he settled into the kitchen chair and watch you with a beer. you rant for a little while and all he does is grunt and him, knowing it's better to just let you talk then to interrupt you; he's unsuccessfully tried a few times.

"looks like i need to fuck you harder to get my fuckin' message across." he just grumbles as you finally sit down opposite him with a scowl.

"if you're not careful, i'll fuck you harder and show how you a real women works these days." you laugh as ben takes over your previous scowl and just shakes his head. "oh ben, i am a ride that you wouldn't survive." you wink dramatically and to his dismay, he blushes before knocking back the rest of his beer.

"i should've stayed in the fucking '50's." he groans and runs his hands over his face, rubbing his beard as his tired eyes glance over you.

"but then, you wouldn't have experienced me bouncing on you, crazy style." you pout, leaning forward and grabbing his hands. he abruptly stands up and sighs before announcing that he needed a fucking nap and a bottle of jameson before he could handle anymore bullshit from you. you're left sat with a shit-eating grin, knowing that in an hour or two, he'll come crawling back and begging to hear you talk dirty to him as he pounds into you.

a/n: idk what this is but here we are. this is what my brain conjured up and honestly, this took too long for me to write, so im sorry anon that this is so late </3 -`♡´- tag list: @bluemerakis @legalmente-loca @faiszt @vmiina @emeraldcrs @briiverse @figthoughts @sl33pylilbunny @jasvtsc @silverwoodlynx @kayleighwinchester @bejeweledinterludes @yooyieu @nperoconelcositoarriba @lanasgirlfr @velvetdandeli0n @iluvdeanwinchester @doeinlace @cowboysandcigarettes @daylighted (comment or inbox me to be added)

[atlabeth]

something about her

masterlist

pairing: spencer reid x fem gideon!reader

summary: you’re reminded why you’re really here while spencer does some unwanted self reflection.

a/n: things have been a little too fun and fluffy around these parts so i had to fix it. it’s easy to forget you’re still dealing w a stalker when you’re busy living in denial <3 enjoy the mess! this whole thing is in spencer's pov bc this all got soooo far away from me

title from the song by stephen sanchez

wc: 5.3k

warning(s): things start to ramp up! stalking, anxiety, lowkey panic attacks, angst, hurt/comfort, r almost has a panic attack, alcohol/mentions of alcoholism, the usual. but more bonding!!

Spencer can’t sleep. 

He’s tried every trick in the book. Counting sheep, counting to one hundred, counting to one hundred backwards, going through the alphabet, going through the alphabet backwards, methods with actual scientific research backing them—none of it works. He’s stared at the ceiling for most of the night. 

He feels like a hypocrite most of all, preaching the importance of adequate sleep when he’ll be lucky to get five hours. But it looks like you barely sleep as is. He probably should keep preaching to you. 

There’s a myriad of reasons to explain it. His hyperactive brain has been responsible for many restless nights. He’s still in unfamiliar territory, and he hasn’t gotten used to sleeping on this bed yet. Lest he forget, he’s your first and only line of protection here from your stalker. That’s enough to keep anyone awake, even FBI. 

But then there’s also… you in general. 

Spencer can’t say he tries not to think about you, because this past week it’s felt like the only thing he’s thought about. 

It’s practically impossible, even before you were shoved into this house together. You have a way of tunneling your way into a person’s mind and refusing to leave—especially his. 

Again, it’s easy enough to pass off. You’re the only ones here, and the time you’re not spending alone you’re spending with each other. Your only choice beyond isolation is to talk to Spencer, and it seems you’re slowly moving past preferring it over him. 

But he doesn’t think he can just pass this off.

He can’t get your smile out of his head. Your moments of levity are so few and far between that it makes them shine bright as the sun. Spencer has learned he loves how you look when you’re happy. He just wishes it wasn’t such a rarity.

Gideon’s lecture rings in his ears. He really had two jobs—keep you safe, and don’t fall for you. Hopefully he only fails the one. 

It’s not like he has to worry about it, though. You might not hate him as much anymore, but you still don’t really like him. As much as it bums him out, it’s for the best. It means that in a week or two, when the team has caught the unsub and all this is over, you can both go your separate ways and you’ll never have to see Spencer again. 

That bums him out even more, though. 

He lets out a long sigh. He doesn’t know why he’s surprised. JJ, Elle, now you—Morgan would say he really knew how to pick ‘em. Girls who didn’t like him back. 

Just then his phone rings, jolting him out what could have been a convincing play for sleep if not for his thoughts, and he groans a little. Spencer fumbles around for it without lifting his head from the pillow, only turning slightly so he can flick it open and place it against his ear. 

“Gideon, why are you calling this early?” he mumbles. 

“I hope you’re treating her well.”

The gravelly voice through the speaker is a shock, and Spencer doesn’t really process it. His brain still hasn’t turned on. 

“Gideon?” he asks again. 

“I know you ran away. Trying to protect her like you have any right.” 

His blood goes cold as the words finally register. 

This is their unsub. This— this is your stalker. 

“What do you want?” he asks, unable to keep the sharp edge out of his words. 

“You’ve hurt her the same way he has,” the voice continues. “He’s ruined our lives and you don’t care.”

Spencer’s mind is simultaneously blank and running wild. He knows he should try to profile him or talk to him to get something out of him but— but all he feels is anger. 

“What do you want?” he repeats, louder this time. 

“Think about your priorities, Agent Reid. I’ll be watching.” 

The disconnected tone blares in his ear before he can say anything else, and Spencer stares down at his phone in confused annoyance. 

What kind of bullshit game is this guy trying to play with you? 

First he stalks you for a month—possibly months— then sends pictures of you to your door, then forces you into hiding and now he’s just mocking you like this? 

If Gideon is the goal, this bastard is doing a great job of dragging you along. 

Spencer’s heart jumps into his throat all of a sudden. You. 

He grabs his gun off his bedside table then lunges to the door with all the athleticism of a newborn baby giraffe, nearly tripping in his haste to get out into the hallway. He slams your door open once he gets to your room, and the relief that floods through his body when you shoot up from your previously sleeping position is almost dangerous. 

“Spencer?” you grumble, still completely out of it as you rub your eyes. “What the fuck are you doing?” 

You’re alive. You’re okay. You’re still here. 

He opens his mouth to respond, still kind of out of breath, when his phone rings again. Spencer takes it out and is already pressing it to his ear. 

“What the hell do you want from her?” he barks. The absolute nerve of your stalker to call back—

“Reid, it’s me.”

It’s Gideon’s voice that comes out of the speaker this time, and Spencer feels the wave of red hot rage boiling in his stomach crash against a wall of confusion. 

“I—” He swallows deeply, his eyes flicking over to your befuddled expression momentarily before he feels himself flush bright red and look away. “I’m so sorry, sir. I thought you were someone else.” 

“You got a call?”

His blood runs cold. “You mean you got one too?”

Gideon curses and he hears him move around. Pacing in his bedroom, if Spencer knew anything about him. “Tell me my daughter is safe.”

“She— she is,” he stammers. “I’m with her right now.”

“Spencer, what the fuck is going on?” You’re sitting up now, much more aware than you were fifteen seconds ago. “Why do you have your gun— why are you talking to my dad?”

“Do a perimeter check,” Gideon demands. “If he’s there—”

“I know.” Spencer looks back at you and sighs. “You should talk to her.”

“I know,” Gideon echoes. “Let her stay on the line with me while you figure things out.”

He nods and takes the phone from his ear. “Gideon wants to talk with you.”

You’re standing up now, a dumbfounded expression on your face. “Hold on, you still haven’t answered me! What is going on?”

“I got a call from our guy,” he says. Your eyes widen and he can see your chest still. His heart clenches at the sight. “Gideon did too.”

“What?” you breathe. “Wh— what did he want?”

“To scare you.” Spencer holds up his gun. “Can you hide in the closet while I do a perimeter check?”

You scoff. Your demeanor is still shaken, but the fire is more prominent. He’s started to admire that about you. “Spencer, I am not hiding in the closet.”

“Then lock yourself in the bathroom again!” he exclaims. He doesn’t mean for the outburst, but he can’t help it. “Just— I can’t focus if I’m worried about you, and right now the only thing I can think of is how worried I am about you, so I need to know you’re safe while I do this.”

You stare at him, and Spencer stares right back, if a little frantic. He feels his chest rise and fall from the force, a stark contrast to your still body—similar to the panic he knows is in his eyes to the steely cool of yours. 

“I’m not letting you potentially face an insane stalker by yourself,” you finally say. 

Spencer huffs. “I am an FBI agent. I’ve faced worse things than insane stalkers.”

“We’ve been together this whole time,” you insist. “We— we can do this together too.” 

He looks at you again—he can tell you’re not going to move on this. Spencer eventually sighs and holds the phone back up to his ear. 

“I’m assuming you heard that?” 

“Let her go with you,” Gideon says. “It’s riskier for her to be on her own than outside with you. But stay on the line, and stay alert. Nothing can happen to her—do you understand?” 

“I won’t let anything happen to her,” he says. “I meant what I said.” 

“...Good.” 

Spencer holds the phone out to you again, and your lip curls. 

“I’m not—” 

“Come on,” he interrupts, gesturing with his head into the hallway. 

Your annoyance melts into acknowledgement when you realize he’s not blowing you off again, and you nod as you take the phone. Spencer wraps both hands around his gun as he starts moving, you matching his pace as you follow him. 

“Yeah, Dad,” he hears you say behind him. “I’m here.” 

This is what he meant by you needing to stay behind. He’s worried about you more than anything, yes, but he also can’t help but listen. Spencer has very keen ears, to everyone’s simultaneous disdain and appreciation on the team—it makes him a very good asset in the field, but also a very good asset when it comes time for office gossip. 

“No, nothing’s happened yet. Yes— yes, I’m okay, I promise. Spencer’s done an annoyingly good job of keeping me safe.” 

Once Spencer reaches the door, he peers through the peephole to make sure their unsub isn’t embarrassingly obvious. It’s clear, and he turns to face you and raises a hand, then places his finger on his lips. 

“Uh— I have to go dark for a sec,” you say. “We’re checking the perimeter. Don’t worry, I’ll scream if anyone tries to kill me. Be back soon.” 

You pull the phone away from your ear and nod at Spencer, and he holds his breath before he opens the door. 

The frigid air hits both of you at once, and he hears then sees your sharp exhale of breath. It’s been a while since either of you have been outside, but it’s good to know he hasn’t been missing superb weather. 

“Stay close and stay quiet,” Spencer whispers. “I’m your only line of defense out here.” 

He expects you to shoot back with some remark, but you merely nod in response. Spencer hopes he hides the shock he feels before he turns away and starts walking. 

Dawn isn’t for a few more hours—the only real light source is the moon high in the night sky. It doesn't exactly help his nerves to be doing all this in the dark, but part of him is almost thankful to be doing this. Spencer doesn’t know how to deal with you or any of the emotions you stir inside of him or the sleepless nights you cause because he can’t stop thinking of you—but he knows how to do his job, and he knows how to do it damn well. 

He just wishes it didn’t have to come with the unfortunate side effect of you being in immense danger. 

But Spencer does his best to push those thoughts to the back of his mind—right now, he has to have one focus. 

And he does. The two of you stick close to the side of the house, his eyes darting all over as he tries to dig out any details, any possible sign that the unsub was here. The ground is still a thin layer of mud from the storm last night, so it should be easy to find footprints. Spencer’s Converse aren’t doing a great job at keeping him upright—slipping in front of you is too embarrassing for him to even think about. 

All of a sudden, he stops, his arm shooting out in front of you. You don’t realize it for a second and you run into him, your hand wrapping around his arm on instinct to steady yourself. If he wasn’t so shocked at what he was looking at, he would have been bright red over it. 

“What the h—” 

“Footprints,” he whispers.  “Th— they’re almost gone, but—” 

“He was here?” you interrupt. Fear spikes in your voice and your grip tightens on his arm. 

“Last night, maybe.” Spencer swallows the doubt in his throat. It doesn’t matter what he thinks, how he feels—he’s not going to make you feel worse. “The rain probably washed most of them away.” 

“Spencer—”

“I am surprised these are still here, though,” he continues. “The rainfall was really heavy. I wouldn’t expect them to stay in mud like this—” 

“Spencer, look where we are!” you exclaim, gesturing hard with your other hand. He realizes that you’ve let go of his arm by now, but he pushes it out of his head and looks. 

“The window to your room,” he says. The blinds are closed and the lock is in place—he’s made sure every night—but there are small enough gaps between the shutters. 

“He was watching us last night!” Your breathing is starting to come heavier and faster now. “We talked about all that shit and he was just here watching and we didn’t even fucking know!” 

You’re on the edge of hyperventilating. Spencer has got to get you down or else you’re going to have a full blown panic attack out here. 

“Hey, hey— look at me.” He says your name and that, if anything else, gets you to listen and meet his eyes. They’re filled with an unbridled fear he hasn’t seen in you until now. “Don’t think about him. Don’t think about any of this. He’s not here.” 

“He was watching us—” 

“And we’ll figure out what to do next. But you have to stay calm. You can’t let him win.” 

You’re still harried, your chest rising and falling rapidly as your eyes dart all around. Spencer says your name softly, tucks his gun into its holster, then takes your hands in his, hoping that it gives you something to focus that isn’t the rest of this. 

“Just look at me,” he says softly. 

You suck in another shaky breath, but you’re not as frantic as before. You at least look him in the eye, and you don’t wrench your hands out of his grasp. Progress, if nothing else. 

“Breathe with me.” 

You nod—still panicked, but better. Spencer breathes in deep and you do the same, following as he counts up and down with his fingers. It takes a few rounds, but eventually, he’s gotten you off the edge. 

Spencer says your name again, just as soft as before. You’re still breathing slowly in and out. 

“How do you feel?” 

“Better,” you murmur. “I—” 

You’re interrupted by the phone you both forgot was in your hand, Gideon’s voice muddled as it comes from the receiver. You rip your hands out of Spencer’s as you come back into yourself, shaking your head and blinking a few times while you take a few steps away from him. 

“I’m here, Dad,” you say. “We— we’re okay. No, nothing happened.” 

Spencer blinks too. He looks down at his hands, then glances at you, then shakes his head. He walks back over to the footprint and crouches down, trying to keep his mind clear. He commits every detail he can to memory, doing his best to ignore the conversation with your dad in the background. 

Well, he tunes in a little. He can’t help it—he wants to make sure you’re okay. 

“We found a footprint outside my room,” you’re saying. “Spencer thinks it’s your guy. I have no idea. Yes, we are. You don’t have to be so pushy.” You sigh and he feels your gaze on him. “Spencer, we have to finish this up. Dad wants us back inside.” 

He clears his throat as he nods a few times. “Let me get a picture of this first.” 

You hand him the phone and Spencer snaps some photos from a few different angles, hoping forensics will be able to get anything out of it. He hears Gideon’s voice again and he holds it to his ear once more. 

“Gideon?” 

“Reid, get her back inside,” he says. “We can’t take any unnecessary risks.” 

“We haven’t finished securing the perimeter,” he says. 

“Then finish it and get back inside!” he exclaims. “You have proof that he was there—” 

“We don’t know it’s him,” Spencer interrupts. 

“We know there was somebody there!” Gideon shoots back. “I’m not risking her, and from what I’ve heard, you don’t want to either.” 

Spencer feels his cheeks warm as he looks back at you, and he pulls his gun back out of its holster. “Come on. We have to finish this up.” 

“That’s what I said,” you mutter, but you follow him without further protest. 

The rest of the check goes by quickly without any other distractions or surprises, and soon enough you’re back inside. While Spencer chats with Gideon, updating him in a calmer manner on everything with the phone call and the footprint, you’re ruffling through the cabinets. 

Eventually, he sees you pull out a bottle of clear liquid from the corner of his eye. He frowns and realizes that it’s vodka. 

“It’s 4:29 in the morning,” Spencer says, cutting off Gideon almost absentmindedly as you pop the bottle open. 

“And we found out that this place isn’t nearly as safe as anyone thought,” you respond sharply. “I think that warrants some drinking.” 

“That means that you should have a clear mind,” he says. “Alcohol impairs your brain’s communication pathways, as well as your judgment and coordination.” 

“I’ve gotten drunk before, genius,” you mutter as you search for a glass. You end up choosing a the mug you used for coffee the other morning then start pouring. “Enough to know it’s what I need right now.” 

“It can also cause mood swings,” Spencer says. “I think that’s the last thing you need right now.”

You roll your eyes, not even bothering to look back at him as you finish pouring a concerning amount of liquor into the mug. 

“What is going on over there?” Gideon asks. Spencer remembers he’s holding the phone and he puts it back to his ear. 

“I think your daughter is an alcoholic,” he comments. 

“I’m not an alcoholic,” you say sharply. “I just can’t focus on all this right now.” 

“It’s best if she gets some sleep,” Gideon says. “All of this is likely terrifying to her, no matter how hard she tries to hide it.” 

Spencer’s mind flashes back to your near panic attack—your wide eyes full of fear and harried breathing that only made you hyperventilate more when you realized you couldn’t control it. It’s too easy to think of you as some untouchable being from the way you interact with him, bothered by nothing and no one. 

The mask cracks on rare occasion. It makes you seem frighteningly real. 

“You’re right,” Spencer nods. You sip your drink without flinching. He doesn’t think he can even call it a drink if it’s just straight liquor. “We could all use some sleep.” 

“Just make sure she’s safe,” he says. “Make sure the whole place is secure. We’re not—” 

“Taking risks,” he finishes. “Believe me, I know.” 

Gideon is silent for a second, and Spencer takes the time to look at you. The bags under your eyes are even more prominent, and there’s a haunted glint in your eyes as you stare at the wall. You shiver ever so slightly, the outside chill still lingering on your skin. You’ve got pajama pants on but just a plain tee. You didn’t have time to put a sweatshirt on before he pulled you outside in the mania of it all. 

You really are beautiful—but you’re so damn tired. 

Spencer realizes that all he wants to do is give you some respite. 

“I’ll call you back later, then,” Gideon says. “To check in.” 

“Okay.” Spencer’s throat bobs as he averts his eyes from you. “Get some rest too, Gideon.” 

The other end hangs up without a response. Spencer stares down at the phone for a few seconds then sighs before he tucks it back into his pocket. 

“What’d he want?” you ask. 

“I can’t believe you’re drinking vodka out of a coffee mug at four in the morning.”

You frown. “You don’t get to judge me.” 

“It’s not good for you.” 

“None of this is good for me,” you enunciate. “What did my dad want?”

“I’m serious,” Spencer continues. “Drinking on an empty stomach can lead to low blood sugar— drinking at this hour is going to completely disrupt your circadian rhythm.” 

“You know what else has disrupted my circadian rhythm?” you ask mockingly. “Being here. Having a stalker. Finding out that said stalker was also here, watching us. I think that’s a little worse for me than the alcohol.” 

Spencer stares at you, and as you’re prone to do, you stare back. Eventually, he shakes his head and looks away, deciding to quit while he’s ahead. 

“He wants you to get some sleep,” he says. “Wants us both to.” 

You scoff and shake your head, downing much more vodka than you should in one go. Again, you don’t flinch—for a schoolteacher, you handle your liquor very well. “Like I’d get to sleep after this.” 

“It’s important,” Spencer insists. “You’ve gotten— what? Three hours of sleep?” 

“Well, all this excitement has woken me up,” you say. 

“Well, I’m tired,” Spencer says. “So I guess I’ll see you in a few hours.” 

He starts to walk to his room, figuring that you need time to cool off, when—

“Wait.” 

Your voice is oddly strangled, and Spencer stops in his tracks. 

“I—” you stop and sigh, your tongue darting out to wet your lips. “I don’t want to be alone right now.” 

“Our rooms are close to each other,” he says. “I’ll be able to hear if you yell.” 

You rub your eyes as you let out another haggard sigh. “I can’t stand to be in that room, Spencer. Not knowing that— that he was right there.” 

Spencer can’t look away from you. Your eyes glint with tears you’re trying to hold back, but you’re laid bare in a way he knows you hate. 

You’re being pushed to your limits against your will, and it kills him that he can’t do anything to help you. Honestly, sometimes he feels useless being stuck here while the rest of the team is out there actively working to help you. All he can do is stand around here and annoy you. 

Except you want him there. For the first time since all of this has started, you want him there. 

It’s the only thing he can do for you right now. How can he refuse? 

“Okay,” he says softly, and he nods. “Okay. We can share my room tonight.” 

The tension in your shoulders fades ever so slightly, and you—thankfully—set the mug down. “Keep your gun close.” 

“I’m not sure you want me shooting when I’m sleep deprived,” Spencer says. 

Your lips twitch just so, and Spencer’s heart skips a beat. He can’t help it. 

He should have known he was in too deep the moment he stepped into this house with you. 

-

“Very cozy,” you say. 

“It’s the same as your room,” Spencer responds. 

You shrug. “It’s messy. Makes it feel like home.” 

He feels his face flush. “I haven’t really been focused on keeping things clean.” 

“Relax.” You sit down on the bed. “I’m not judging you.” 

“Good.” Spencer glances at you as he moves his bag off of your side of the bed. “Because that would be very rude after the generosity I’ve shown you.” 

You laugh and Spencer finds himself smiling at the sound of it. He’s glad he’s turned away, and he’s glad he manages to push it away by the time he’s turned back around. 

You’re wearing a sweatshirt and sweatpants now, and it’s strange to see you look so… soft. Every part of you is so sharp, some of it jagged—sometimes you harden around him, sometimes you mellow. He’s a bit tired of the back and forth. 

Maybe that’s what makes him speak up. 

“I’m tired of us always being at odds.” 

Your eyebrows rise and you look at him. “Really?” 

Spencer nods, his will bolstered. “Really. We have a nice talk one night, and I feel like we’ve had a breakthrough, and then you go back to hating me the next morning. I’m— I’m sick of it.” 

He expects you to shoot back with some mocking comment like you always do, making fun of him for wanting more than what little you give him. But instead, you lay back against the pillows and shrug. 

“Okay.” 

He blinks. “Really?” 

“Really,” you nod. “I’m too tired to want to fight right now.” 

“You’re the one that always tries to fight me.” 

“Aren’t you fighting me right now?” 

Spencer shakes his head. “You’re unbelievable.” 

You chuckle. “Still fighting.” 

He stares at you. As usual, you stare back, but this time you can’t fully bite back your smile. For some reason, that gets Spencer to break. He smiles too, and he settles down on the bed next to you. There’s a pillow buffer between you, but it’s still a lot closer than he’s used to. 

Well, he did hold your hands earlier, but that’s because he was bringing you down from a panic attack. That doesn’t mean anything. 

“What a day,” he mutters. 

“And it hasn’t even started yet,” you muse. “I don’t know how you do this kind of shit every day.” 

“I’m not really the target of any of this,” he says. “I usually stay behind the scenes. I’m good with geographical profiles, not chasing down unsubs.” 

You look over at him. “You haven’t really talked about anything you do for the BAU.” 

Spencer shrugs. “I thought it would be a sore subject.” 

You pause. “You’re… probably right.” 

“I figured.” He chuckles, then glances over at you. “But you already know enough about me. You said you would talk about your job. Teaching, and your kids, and all that.” 

Your eyebrows rise. “You actually care?”

Spencer gives you a look. “I thought we were past that part in our friendship.”

“We’re not friends.”

He shrugs. “Whatever you say.”

You roll your eyes, but you go on anyway. “I’m a highschool teacher in Fairfax. You know Mount Vernon High?” 

Spencer nods. “I know the name of every high school in Virginia.” 

“Of course you do,” you huff. “But that’s besides the point. I did my student teacher hours there, and they offered me a full time position. I took it, so I guess I’ve been there since senior year.” You purse your lips. “It’s a little depressing when you look at it like that.” 

“Then don’t look at it like that,” he say. “You said you loved your job.” 

“I do!” You smile again, a bit lighter this time. “My teachers were a huge part of my life, especially in high school.” The lightness fades some, but he notices how you try to hide it. “If I could help even one kid the same way my teachers helped me, then I would have done something with my life.” 

“That’s very noble of you,” Spencer says. “I don’t think I ever would have guessed you were a teacher.” 

“Oh, please,” you say. “You’re a profiler. You’d figure it out.” 

“You wouldn’t know I work with the FBI at first glance.” 

“Well, I’m not a profiler. Besides,” you tip a shoulder, “I have the ulterior motive of wanting to introduce kids to the wonders of physics.” 

Spencer’s eyes light up. “You’re a physics teacher?” 

“I teach a load of science classes, but I carry the banner for AP physics.” You huff a laugh. “You’re probably the only one that doesn’t sound lame to.” 

“I love physics!” he exclaims. “I’ve got a PhD in engineering, remember?” 

You smile— no, you actually grin at him, and he can’t believe he finally broke through the barrier with science. 

“Trust me, I’d love to talk physics with you, boy genius, but—” you’re interrupted with a yawn, and Spencer resists the urge to do the same— “but I think I’m actually about to fall asleep.”  

Spencer shakes his head with a small laugh. He realizes that he’s relaxed while you’ve been talking, limbs looser and fully laying back against the pillows. 

“This was actually part of my master plan to get you to rest,” he says. “Talking science always works with the team.” 

He sees you smile out of his peripherals as you lay fully down, can feel every shift of your body against the mattress while you try to find a good position. 

“It wasn’t you,” you say. “It was the vodka.” 

 “Of course,” he agrees. 

Silence falls over the room as the two of you settle in. You take off your sweatshirt, a slight shiver running through you once you’re back in your tank top. Spencer removes his glasses, and he blinks a few times to adjust to the blurriness.

The bed is big enough for you to both have your own space,, and you’re both careful to keep your backs to each other. The silence is comfortable despite the previous animosity. Maybe all it really did take was for him to start talking science. 

Eventually, though—

“Thank you, Spencer.” Your voice is little more than a whisper, but it cuts through the silence like a knife. “I— I know you don’t like me. So it means a lot that you still do all this for me.” 

He’s quiet for a moment, taking your words in. The mingled sounds of your breathing are really the only things filling the room, and he can feel your weight against the mattress. It’s all oddly intimate. 

“You’re wrong.” He’s almost surprised at the sound of his own voice. “I do like you.” 

Your shock shows through the silence. Spencer takes his chance. 

“You’re going through something no one should ever have to experience, and you’re doing it with someone you think stole your life from you.” Spencer shifts ever so slightly. His hands feel inexplicably clammy. “It was unfair of me to take Gideon’s side so often.” 

“Still.” Your words are muffled as you speak half into the mattress. “We have more important things to worry about. It was unfair of me to spend so much time giving you shit. You— you didn’t even know I existed until a month ago.” 

“But now I do.” He pauses. “And I’m glad I do. So you can start looking forward instead of always looking back.” 

Again, silence. It lasts so long Spencer wonders if you’ve fallen asleep. Your breathing is thankfully steady (a side of him is always focused on your breathing just to make sure) and you don’t shift much, so he wouldn’t be surprised. You were exhausted—

“Spencer?” 

His eyes open. He didn’t even realize they had closed. You sound half-asleep, your voice nothing more than a whisper. He wishes more than anything he knew what was going through your mind right now. 

“Yeah?” 

“I’m glad you’re here.” 

His heart stutters so blatantly he’s sure you can hear it. Spencer honestly doesn’t know what to say—his mouth is so dry he doesn’t know if he can say anything. 

Spencer thought you hated him. You thought Spencer hated you. 

It’s ironic. 

“Me too,” he eventually manages. 

But there’s no response. You must’ve already fallen asleep again, just conscious enough to say a few words. The rude awakening mixed with the fear and alcohol couldn’t have done you much good. 

Spencer swallows the doubt in his throat and closes his eyes again, trying not to focus on you. It’s practically impossible. 

He’s glad, at least, that you’re able to sleep. You deserve to rest more than anyone. 

Eventually, the sound of your breathing lulls Spencer to sleep. 

You were the one thing he didn’t have on his list.

[rizzanon]

Normalcy

a cassandra cain and batsis! reader oneshot | m.list

Summary: you took your sister out for fun to help her relax

The Batcave is quiet.

Unusual, but not unwelcome.

Cassandra Cain steps lightly as she descends the last few steps, the dim glow of the monitors casting shifting shadows across the stone walls. The usual hum of activity—voices, movement, the occasional sharp exchange of mission details—is absent.

She pauses, scanning the area.

Empty.

Normally, someone—Bruce, Tim, or even Alfred—would be here, but tonight, it’s just her.

They must still be out.

She exhales softly, rolling the tension out of her shoulders. Her muscles still carry the echoes of the night’s fights, the familiar ache of movement, of action, of force met with force.

She turns toward the training mats, deciding to run through a cool-down routine before heading upstairs.

She takes one step forward—

And then catches the hand reaching for her shoulder.

It’s instinct. Reflex. The motion sharp and fluid, a perfect counter to an unexpected approach. Her grip tightens around the wrist, prepared for a struggle—

Until she hears your voice.

“Damn it, Cass,” you groan, exasperated. “Again?”

She blinks, recognition settling in an instant.

Her hold loosens immediately, fingers pulling away from your skin as she takes a half-step back. She hadn’t even looked. Hadn’t checked. Just reacted.

Cassandra tilts her head, watching you closely. You’re smiling, eyes bright, but there’s something softer underneath. She looks for it—the way your weight shifts slightly, the way your fingers rub against the faint mark on your wrist.

The way you always do this. Pretend like nothing hurts even though it probably does.

She presses her lips together, but she doesn’t apologize. You wouldn’t want her to. You wouldn’t want her to feel bad about this.

So instead, she asks, “Why are you here?”

You perk up. “Because you are here.”

Cassandra raises an eyebrow.

“I mean,” you amend, shifting your weight, “I was waiting for you.”

She stills, surprised.

“For what?”

You grin. “To take you out.”

Cassandra stares. “Out?”

“Out.”

And before she can form a proper response, before she can say I should stay, before she can think—

Your arm loops through hers.

The movement is smooth, practiced, like you’ve done it a hundred times before. The warmth of your skin against hers is solid, grounding. Familiar.

“I mean, you could say no,” you say, already dragging her toward the exit. “But I’m gonna be real with you, Cass—I’m not letting go until you get changed and come with me, so we might as well cut out the middle part.”

Her first instinct is to refuse. There’s no point.

But then—

Your fingers curl around her wrist, warm and steady, not dragging but guiding. Not demanding, just expecting her to follow.

Like it’s natural. Like she belongs.

So she lets you pull her along.

The streets of Gotham are loud.

Not in a way that bothers her, necessarily, but in a way that contrasts sharply with the silence of the Cave. The distant roar of traffic, the murmur of voices, the occasional bark of laughter from someone passing by—it all blends together into something normal.

Something alive.

Cassandra keeps pace beside you easily, hands tucked into the pockets of her jacket, letting the rhythm of your steps guide hers.

You’re relaxed.

She can tell in the way your shoulders sit loose, the way your head tilts slightly as you glance around, taking in the night air like it’s something new.

Her eyes trace the slight bounce in your step, the easy sway of your arms as you walk. There’s no tension, no weight dragging you down.

It’s nice.

She notices the way you keep glancing at her, like you’re making sure she’s still with you. Not because she might disappear, but because—

You want her here.

The thought sits strangely in her chest. Warm and unfamiliar.

She doesn’t know what to do with it.

Cassandra watches as you casually step onto the edge of the sidewalk, balancing on the curb as if it were a tightrope. It’s a game—one you don’t acknowledge out loud, but play anyway, arms out slightly for balance, eyes focused ahead in exaggerated concentration.

Cass huffs, amused.

You flash her a quick glance. “Bet you can’t do it.”

A challenge.

Cassandra lifts a browbefore stepping onto the curb beside you, mirroring your stance perfectly. She doesn’t even wobble.

You groan dramatically at her effortless precision. A smile tugs at her lips as Cassandra watches the tiny gears in your mind turn.

Without warning, you jump, reaching for a nearby street sign, swinging yourself up with an exaggerated effort before dropping back down, grinning.

Cassandra stops.

Raises an eyebrow.

“Impressed?” you ask, waggling your brows.

She blinks.

Then, without a word, she mirrors your movement perfectly—gripping the signpost, swinging herself up with ease, landing silently beside you.

You groan once more, half-admonishing.

“Show off.”

Before you can let the moment settle, you nudge her elbow. “Race you to that crosswalk.”

Cassandra gives you a blank stare.

Your grin turns mischievous. “What, scared I’ll win?”

She doesn’t answer. Just bolts.

Your laugh rings behind her as you sprint after her, shouting, calling her a cheater. She slows just enough to let you think you had a chance before stopping at the crosswalk, completely unbothered, calm and composed as ever.

You, on the other hand, are panting.

“You suck,” you mutter, out of breath. You glare half-heartedly before tugging her forward again into a building.

It’s a small café, tucked between taller buildings, newly opened. The warm light spills onto the sidewalk, inviting, soft.

You push open the door, glancing over your shoulder with a playful tilt of your head.

“My friends and I used to do this all the time,” you say, settling into a booth by the window. “We’d check out new places and rate them based on the food, the vibes… and, of course, whether they had cute waiters.” You pause, grinning as you see Cassandra’s eyebrow lift in mild surprise.

“What? It’s an important factor,” you add, your tone light and teasing.

Cassandra doesn’t roll her eyes, but she wants to.

Instead, she just watches you—the way you lean into the warm air of the café, the way your fingers tap against the table as you pick a seat, the way your grin softens, just slightly, as you glance at her.

Like you do this all the time. Like this is normal.

Cassandra sits across from you, watching, feeling the weight of the moment settle over her.

For once, she lets herself believe—

That maybe, she could have this too.

She huffs a quiet laugh, shaking her head, and something in her chest eases.

It’s strange.

This.

The way you talk, the way you gesture, the way you slip into conversation so easily. The way the world feels soft in your presence. The way you give her something normal, something outside the constant demand of everything else.

She isn’t used to it.

Not yet.

But she thinks—

She thinks she wants to be.

You’re still talking, still animated, your fingers idly tracing patterns against the side of your cup of your drink that you ordered, as you recount some old story about a café that had the best hot chocolate but terrible seating.

Cassandra listens.

She doesn’t interrupt.

She just—watches.

Your expression shifts with every word, every memory, the crinkle of your nose when you recall something unpleasant, the way your lips quirk when you’re about to deliver a punchline. You speak with your entire body, your hands emphasizing certain points, your shoulders rising slightly with amusement.

It’s not just words.

It’s motion.

And Cassandra is fluent in motion.

She catches the way your fingers flex unconsciously around your cup, the way your thumb taps a steady rhythm against the ceramic, the way you lean in—closer, like you want to make sure she’s still listening.

She is.

Of course she is.

She doesn’t think you realize how easy you are to listen to.

Then, you pause—your focus shifting suddenly as something catches your eye.

Cassandra follows your gaze.

There’s a small counter near the register, displaying a few take-home pastries in neat little boxes. Your eyes linger, just for a second, before you shake your head slightly, looking back at her.

You open your mouth—probably to pick up where you left off—

But Cassandra is already standing.

You blink. “Uh—Cass?”

She doesn’t respond, just moves toward the counter, scanning the selection. The girl behind the register offers her a polite smile, and Cassandra gestures toward the box you had been looking at before handing over a few bills.

By the time she returns to the table, you’re staring at her, brow furrowed.

Cassandra sets the box in front of you, sliding it across the table without a word.

You glance down at it.

Then back up at her.

Then back down.

“…Did you—” You clear your throat. “You didn’t have to do that, you know.”

Cassandra shrugs. “Wanted to.”

Something flickers across your face.

For once, you’re the one caught off guard.

And she sees it—sees the way you swallow slightly, the way your fingers brush against the edges of the box, hesitant, like you’re not sure whether to open it or not.

Then, you exhale, a slow, measured thing, before smiling.

Soft.

Not playful. Not teasing. Just—warm.

“…Thanks, Cass.”

Cassandra nods, but she doesn’t reply.

She doesn’t need to.

Instead, she lets herself take in this moment—the quiet hum of the café, the distant chatter of other customers, the steady rhythm of your breathing across from her.

This feeling.

This normalcy.

It still feels strange to her.

Still feels like something outside of herself, something distant.

But she’s trying.

Trying to be used to it.

Trying to be used to deserving it.

Trying to be used to you.

And as your fingers finally curl around the box, as you pop it open and grab one of the pastries, making an exaggerated mmm sound just to make her laugh—

She thinks that maybe, just maybe—

She’s getting there.

Cassandra watches as you take a bite, your face lighting up dramatically as you savor the taste. You close your eyes for a second, pressing a hand to your chest like the pastry has just saved your life.

“Oh my god,” you say, exaggerating every syllable. “Cass, you have to try this. I think it might be the best thing I’ve ever tasted.”

Cassandra raises an eyebrow. “Ever?”

You nod, completely serious. “Ever.”

She doesn’t bother arguing. She just reaches over, and without hesitation, you break off a piece, handing it to her.

She takes it. Eats it. Chews.

It’s good.

Not life-changing, but—good.

You’re still watching her, waiting for some kind of reaction.

She shrugs. “Okay.”

Your jaw drops. “Okay?”

She nods. “Okay.”

“Cass, this is a masterpiece. A work of art.” You gesture wildly at the pastry like it should be in a museum. “I feel personally offended that you’re just calling it okay.”

Cassandra just smirks, sipping her drink. “Dramatic.”

You gasp. “Me? Dramatic?”

She doesn’t say anything—just tilts her head slightly, eyes glinting with amusement.

You point at her. “I know what you’re doing. You’re messing with me.”

Another shrug. Another sip of her drink.

You sigh, shaking your head. “Unbelievable.” But there’s no actual frustration in your voice, just that same warmth, that same ease that Cassandra is still—still—trying to get used to.

Because it’s moments like these—quiet, insignificant in the grand scheme of things—that make her feel like she’s learning something new about herself.

Something beyond the fighting. Beyond the missions.

Something human.

You go back to eating, still muttering about her “bad taste” under your breath, but you don’t actually seem upset. If anything, you seem… happy.

Comfortable.

And for Cassandra, that means everything.

She looks down at her own hands, flexing her fingers slightly. It still feels strange—this kind of connection, this normalcy, like wearing a new pair of gloves that don’t quite fit yet.

But then you nudge her foot under the table, just lightly, like a reminder that you’re here. That she’s here. That this moment is real.

She breathes.

And when you look up at her again, grinning like you’re already thinking of what to drag her to next—

Cassandra thinks she could get used to this.

this is finally out omfg 😭 this had been in my drafts for way too long bruh 💀 it’s kind of shorter compared to the other days, but i like how this one turned out 🥰 hope you guys enjoyed this 🫶

taglist (open): @k1arar3 @kingshitonly @rainnyydaysworld @ceridwyn3 @darkfaethedestroyer @blueiones @strwberryglass @lithiumval @thephantomdanny @eli-mayhaveatencats @rockyeatrock @dreaming-of-the-reality @shirp-collector-of-fixations @gneepgnorpsneepsnorp @skerbablo @dind1n @gwyneveire @yukixies | ask to be added <3

[wosospacegirl]

And they were roommates - part 2

Summary: Y/n gets injured and has to stay in recovery for 8 months. It's a good thing her friend and teammate Kyra is more than willing to move in with her. wink wink

Warnings: angst; hurt/comfort; reader might have a crush on Kyra ;)

Word count: 3.4k

| PART 1 HERE |

Over the next few days, Kyra and Y/n settle into a comfortable, domestic routine.

Kyra was the first to wake up each day. She went straight to Y/n’s room to check on her and give her her morning medication, along with a cup of black coffee.

Y/n didn’t like mornings, especially now with the heavy cast on her leg. Kyra, on the other hand, loved mornings, so she sat by Y/n’s bed and chatted for 20 minutes straight while Y/n nodded along to whatever Kyra was saying.

“—And that's how we’re beating Man United this weekend,” Kyra concluded after a long thought process about technical strategies that would lead the Gunners to yet another victory. “I mean, they can’t keep putting her as a winger, right?” Kyra turned to Y/n, waiting for her to nod again.

“How can you have so much to say at 7 am?” Y/n asked, hiding her face in her pillow.

“I just do, it’s a talent, you wouldn’t know it, Grumpy,” Kyra shrugged and threw herself on the bed next to Y/n, the sunlight hitting Kyra’s freckles.

Kyra was wearing tracksuit bottoms and an old, oversized t-shirt, she looked pretty, comfy, and very cuddly too.

“Will you come with me today?” Kyra asked, changing the subjects, caution in her voice.

“Where?” Y/n asked confused, her eyebrows furrowed. She wasn’t supposed to go to physiotherapy or the doctor for another two weeks.

“Training?” Kyra explained, holding her head with one hand as she rested her elbow on the mattress. “They miss you, the girls, I mean. You could go there for a few hours, talk to Alessia, Leah, Steph… I bet Win misses you too,”

“I’m not in the mood,” Y/n said, turning her back to Kyra. Y/n missed the girls, but it would be too upsetting to see them running around while she could barely stand on her own.

“You’ve said that the last three times, Y/n” Kyra sighed. “You haven’t left the house, not once, and you also won’t talk to anyone but me and your mom. That’s worrying. You can’t just wait for me to come home every day, you also need to do relaxing and fun things for yourself.” Y/n felt a pleasant pressure on her shoulder. It was Kyra’s hand.

You can’t just stay here in bed and rot, maybe you could start a new hobby! Painting, sudoku, I don’t know!””Kyra continued, using the serious tone she never used with Y/n. “You need to see people, see your friends, get some fresh air.

Y/n rolled her eyes. “And do what? Talk about how miserable I am all the time?” Y/n said bitterly.

Kyra didn’t understand.

She had never been seriously injured before, she didn’t know what it was like to just go to bed every day not knowing what the future held. Football was everything to Y/n. It was her passion, her hobby and her career. Ninety per cent of her friends were footballers themselves, her whole social circle revolved around football.

Without it, she was nothing Football’s been her thing since she was a kid. Y/n had grown up with a ball on her feet, and now it was gone, and she didn’t know if she would get it back. Right now, Y/n was nothing.

Kyra pressed her lips together and stared at the girl, trying to think of what to say.

“Go away please, I want to be alone,” Y/n muttered after the room had gone quiet.

“No,” Kyra said. “Let’s talk about this, let’s—”

“Go. Away.” Y/n snapped.

Y/n felt the shift in the mattress. Kyra wasn’t sitting on it anymore. “You can’t keep pushing people away, it’ll only hurt you even more,” Kyra said quietly. “You can’t let yourself go like that, you know how easy it is for us athletes to get depressed after an injury, I don’t want that to happen to you.”

“I’m not depressed, Kyra!” Y/n locked eyes with the other girl, anger slowly building in her chest. “I just don’t have anything! If I talk to the girls all I’ll think about is how they’re playing and I’m not.

“You don’t have anything?!” Kyra raised her voice. “What do you mean you have nothing? You’re not just your fucking leg, or your football—You’re a whole person! Just because you can’t play right now doesn’t mean you have no worth.”

Y/n remained silent as Kyra’s voice escalated. Kyra was starting to get angry with her. Kyra had never been angry with her before.

“You are injured! Your tibia split in two, of course, it’ll take some time to heal. Does that mean you have to stay in the house for the remaining months? Of course not!” Kyra’s face was flushed, and she was out of breath.

“Kyra, my whole life had been inside a pitch, I don’t know how the fuck to live without knowing if I’ll ever be in one again!” Y/n exploded, pointing at her cast “And this fucking leg hurts all the time, it’s always a reminder of how unhappy I am and how the world kept on moving while I just stay here!”

“But you don’t have to just stay here! You are the one who is avoiding the world, but it hasn’t stopped for you, it never has! Especially because you have people who care about you! You would know that if you would answered your phone when your friends called,” Kyra rubbed her eyes, tiredly.

“Why is it so hard for you to be kind and patient with yourself?” Kyra asked, looking genuinely confused, trying to find the answer to her question on Y/n’s face. “It’s so easy to treat you well, I don’t know why you find it so difficult.”

Kyra finally took a deep breath, and then another.

“Okay, I’m calm now. I’m sorry,” Kyra said, unclenching her fist. “I didn’t mean to get mad at you, I know you’re frustrated and angry right now. I just wish you’d be more compassionate with yourself and your body.

The room was silent.

“I’ll just… go then. I have to be at training in half an hour anyway,” Kyra took a step closer to where Y/n was lying, she dropped a soft kiss on her cheek. “Just don’t—rot in bed the whole day, ok? I’ll buy you some food and send it over at lunchtime so you can eat something other than crisps”.

Y/n felt her skin warm where Kyra had kissed her. She barely had time to process it before Kyra pulled away. “Okay, thank you,” Y/n whispered, she couldn’t help the blush creeping up her neck.

She should say something, she should say how sorry she was and how ungrateful she had been, Kyra didn’t complain about having to put up with her. Often Y/n felt that she didn’t deserve to have Kyra by her side and now was one of those times. She felt embarrassed by the way she just acted.

Y/n wasn’t someone who felt at ease with vulnerability. She didn’t normally let people see her at her lowest, except her closest friend, of course, but even now the thought of seeing them, of going back to Arsenal, even if for a few hours, felt excruciating.

It was as if life was mocking Y/n. Everyone’s life would go on, even if hers was frozen in time. Arsenal still had good and healthy athletes to train.

Kyra still had responsibilities to attend ttoY/n didn’t, not for the months ahead of her.

Eight months the doctor said, eight months until (and if) she could run. Would she be this bitter for that long? Was she going to stay frustrated with everything and everyone forever? Was she going to shut herself off from her teammates—her friends—if she didn’t heal the way she intended?

Change was a slow process, but Y/n decided to start it right now.

“Ky?” Y/n called.

“Yeah?”

“I’m being an idiot,” Y/n admitted.

Kyra smiled. “Yeah, you kind of are.”

“I’m sorry,” Y/n apologized. Small steps.

“It’s fine, you are a lot meaner when you lose at UNO, it didn’t scare me.”

Both girls smiled at each other.

Kyra held no grudges; it was one of the things Y/n admired the most about her.

“But if you really want me to forgive you, you’ll let me do something,” Kyra added, mischievous in her voice.

Y/n narrowed her eyes. “What?’

“You’ll see,” Kyra said before leaving the room. “I’ll be back around 3 pm, see you!”

Y/n heard the front door close, and now she was alone. Y/n thought she enjoyed being alone, but deep down she didn’t. She missed Kyra when she was away. The house no longer felt warm and comforting; instead; it felt cold and isolated.

Y/n thought about Kyra’s words; about her being kind to others and not to herself. When Beth and Viv tore their ACLs, Y/n committed herself to take their dogs on a walk every day, since the couple couldn’t walk.

When Vic got injured Y/n made sure she was left alone during the physio sessions. When Leah also tore her ACL she made sure to call her every day to see how she was doing; Leah, unlike Y/n, answered her calls.

Y/n had so much love and support around her. She needed it to allow herself to receive it.

Y/n looked around her room. It felt strange now. Before her surgery, she had thought the room was rather cosy, with its green walls and light wooden furniture, but now it felt like a prison.

Maybe Kyra would agree to put on a mattress in the living room and make it into a bed. Then both girls could just sleep there, and watch some films. It would probably bring Y/n some comfort.

..

Hours later Kyra came back from training wearing a black kit. Her hair was in a ponytail, with grass and dirt on it. Y/n wasn’t sure if it was because of their fight earlier, but Kyra seemed different somehow . Even though Kyra was all dirty, y/n couldn’t help but notice how pretty she looked. She realised she hadn’t seen Kyra with her hair in a ponytail before, she always wore it in a bun. It was nice, maybe the new hairstyle was the reason why Y/n couldn’t take her eyes off of her.

Cute, Kyra is cute.

She has always been cute, of course, but in the last few days, she looked even prettier. It’s okay to think your friends are cute. It was normal. Y/n thought to herself as Kyra bent down to take out her shoes, the black legging hugging her body. The book Y/n had in hand long forgotten.

Hot. Y/n thought. She was hot.

Maybe it wasn’t okay to think your friends were hot.

“Sorry?” Kyra asked turning to face Y/n.

Y/n widened her eyes. “What? Y/n said, her cheeks flushed. Fuck, had she said that out loud? And why did she sound so defensive? Chill out. “I didn’t say anything., she said, in a calmer tone, closing her book.

“Yes, you did,” Kyra insisted, looking at her with a smile. She let her hair out of the ponytail, letting it fall over her shoulder.

“Nop! You’re going mad, I’m afraid.” Y/n asserted, chin up.

“It must be all the time we spend together, then” Kyra raised a brow.

A lot of time together, indeed.

“Wait, is that a book? I haven’t seen you with a book for a while, I’m proud you still know your letters.” Kyra continued, a smirk on her face

Kyra was right, thought. With football and national camps, she hadn’t had time to read. It had been embarrassing years since she picked up a book. But now she had time, so she just took advantage of it.

“Haha you’re so funny,” Y/n said dryly. “You told me to do something nice for myself, so I decided to read this book I had lying around,” Y/n said, proudly.

Kyra looked dramatically surprised. “Wow, you actually listened to me? Did something happen while I was gone? Did you fall? Oh, you might have brain haemorrhage!”

“The ability you have to turn a normal conversation into a sarcastic one will always blow my mind,” Y/n said, rolling her eyes.

“Good thing I love to blow your mind,” Kyra said before realizing the double meaning of what she just said.

The girls stared at each other.

“Okay that was awkward,” Kyra mumbled, blushing. “I mean it like—”

Y/n laughed, thinking it was cute how embarrassed Kyra looked. Usually, Kyra was the one who put people in awkward situations.

“It’s all right, I got what you meant,” Y/n said, offering a small smile. “So—” She changed the subject, not wanting Kyra to feel uncomfortable. “What was that thing you wanted me to do so you can forgive me?”

Kyra looked at her watch. “You won’t have to do anything. But they will be here soon.”

Y/n frowned slightly. “Did you get that line from some horror film? Who the hell are they?”

Kyra rolled her eyes. “You’re no fun, I’m trying to be mysterious here”.

“You sound suspicious, not mysterious!”

“Oh, shut up, just sit there and look pretty, no more questions, please.”

Y/n welcomed the compliment “Why, because you won’t be able not to tell me?” She challenged.

Kyra was the worst secret keeper she had ever known.

“You know me so well actually!” Kyra said. “Stop asking questions. I’m going to take a shower, but I’ll be right back,” Kyra said before heading upstairs.

Don’t go. Y/n almost said. Almost begged her to keep that kit on so Y/n could just look at her for a few moments.

The thing was: Y/n got used to having Kyra around, not just because she needed Kyra’s help to get things done, but because she just…appreciated her presence.

Y/n was always bored to tears while Kyra was away for training or a match day, so when Kyra came home, Y/n wanted her all to herself. Which was a bit strange.

Kyra Cooney-Cross was making Y/n think of very, very weird things. She wasn’t necessarily upset about it, though.

Minutes later Kyra stepped out of the shower, wearing sweatpants and an Arsenal hoodie. Y/n welcomed the sight more than she’d ever admit. Kyra was pretty, prettier than yesterday and the day before that.

Was Y/n suffering from carbon monoxide poisoning? Could that be the reason she was fancying Kyra? As it genuinely finding her attractive and not a bets mate type of way?

Kyra was attractive, of course. But Y/n hadn’t realised just how much it messed with her mind, and mostly her body. Kyra was her friend. Not as in a friends-with-benefits thing, but oh they could be, Y/n would be happy about that.

Kyra moved in to help me out, that’s all. She doesn’t like me that way, and that’s fine. Totally fine. Y/n bit her nails, trying to convince herself.

Before Y/n could spiral any further, Kyra clapped her hands and told Y/n to get ready, because apparently, the visitors they were having over were about to arrive.

An hour later Alessia and Leah stopped by with a warm lasagna on Leah’s hands.

It turned out that Kyra was only forgiving Y/n if she agreed to meet some of their friends and socialise for a few hours. “It’ll do you good” Kyra had said.d

“Hey, pest,” Leah greeted Kyra at the door. “How’s your pest doing? She hasn’t been answering mine or Lessie’s messages for a while now, is she dead? Did you kill her?”

“Well good evening to you too, Leah,” Kyra said ironically, letting both Leah and Alessia in, after kissing Alessia on the cheek.

“Why can’t you be like Alessia, she is so nice!” Kyra pouted, pointing at the blonde girl, “She doesn’t call me a pest or anything.”

Leah laughed and handed Kyra the lasagna. “Lessie girl is too nice to ever tell you the truth.”

Kyra and Leah continued their bickering while Alessia made herself at home. The girl was very familiar with Y/n’s house, having spent many film night’s here with Y/n and Kyra before Y/n’s injury.

Alessia went into the living room, where she found Y/n sitting on the couch, crutches propped up to the side.

“Less” y/n said cheerfully.

“Hey sweetie, how are you doing?” Alessia sat by Y/n’s side, hugging her. “God, I missed you so much, you have no idea.”

Y/n smiled and leaned further into Alessia’s embrace. “I missed you too, I feel like dying every time Kyra goes to training and I have to stay here by myself., Y/n confessed.

“Oh, so you miss me when I’m away. That is so lovely to hear!” Kyra's mischievous voice filled the living room as the girl elbowed Leah, “See, I told you she wasn’t bored of me yet.”

“Take me with you, Less, please.” Y/n playfully whispered in Alessia’s ear before the girl’s body was replaced by a taller and leaner one.

Leah hugged Y/n and patted her back before lightly smacking the top of her head.

“Ouch! What was that for?” Y/n whined, pouting.

“Me, Beth, Less, Kim—we’ve all been texting you non-stop, and you won’t text us back!” Leah scolded. “We’re not just your teammates, we’re your friends, in case you forgot!”

“Tough love. Told you.” Kyra chimed in from the corner of the room.

“Shut up, Kyra,” Leah and Y/n said in unison.

Y/n kept her eyes down, feeling a little embarrassed. Leah wasn’t wrong, though. Over the past week, she’d only been texting two people: her mom—because otherwise, she’d probably sent the police down; and Kyra—so she could pick up some snacks for Y/n on her way home.

“I know being injured is hard, but you can’t isolate yourself, especially form us!” Leah continued with a gentle reprimand. “You’re only going to feel worse.”

Leah pointed at Alessia, who was now standing next to Kyra. “Lessie told me you didn’t laugh at the memes she sent you! It’s Less, mate—you can’t make Lessie sad.”

If Y/n wasn’t being lectured by her captain, she would’ve laughed at how Leah was using Alessia’s sweetheart personally to make Y/n feel remorse about being a bad friend.

“Also,” Leah continued, now turning to Kyra. “Can you imagine how hard it is to rely on someone like Kyra for updates? Yesterday, she thought it’d be funny to tell Steph one of your bone screws had come loose.”

Y/n snapped her head towards Kyra, who suddenly looked like a kid caught red-handed. “I didn’t even get screws in my surgery! The doctor used locking compression plates instead!” Y/n argued.

“Well, you tell that to Steph,” Leah said dryly. “She cried and said we should call the surgeon responsible for letting you leave the hospital with a loose screw in your leg before Kyra finally told her she was just joking and that you were fine at home.”

“I didn’t think she would actually believe it,” Kyra winced, looking away, a small blush crept onto her cheeks.

“Steph got back at Kyra, don’t worry, Y/n,” Alessia added smiling. “Kyra is now responsible for walking Win every day before training.”

“I hate walking,” Kyra mumbled.

“Should’ve thought of that before messing with Steph,” Leah smirked.

“I was just trying to lighten the mood!” Kyra groaned.

“You don’t always have to fix things with jokes,” Y/n said smiling. “But I appreciate you are—at some point— giving updates to the girls. Still, leave that to me, I’ll start texting you guys back. I am sorry” Y/n apologized, glancing at Leah and Alessia.

“It’s all right kid, we’ve all been there, injuries bring out the worst in us,” Leah said, patting Y/n’s shoulder. “Now can we please eat the lasagna Lessie has made us? I’m starving!”

“You made your lasagna?” Y/n asked, her mouth-watering.

“Sure did. I know it’s your favourite,” Alessia said with a wink.

“May you be blessed for all eternity, Less,” Y/n said with an utmost stone face. “It’s been days since I’ve had good food.”

Kyra helped Y/n with her crutches before asking, a firm hand on her lower back. “Days? I’ve been making nutritious meals for us since you got back from the hospital!”

“Putting frozen pizza in the oven isn’t ‘making nutritious meals,’” Y/n teased, accepting Alessia’s hand as she sat down on the dining chair.

“I’m trying my best here,” Kyra huffed, crossing her arms.

Y/n leaned in, pressing a kiss to Kyra’s cheek. “Yeah, Yeah, I know. And I appreciate it very much.” She smiled.” Now let’s eat before Leah passes out from hunger.”

..

Read more of my work here -> Masterlist

Tell me if you would like to read any special scene with Kyra and reader!

Please like, share and let me know what you think! Feedback is important and makes me want to write even more. :D

[dragonnarrative-writes]

Transferrable Skills Part 9

Transferrable Skills Masterlist

Read on AO3

CW: Smut, 18+/MDNI, praise, kissing, manual stimulation, oral sex (Reader receiving), premature ejaculation, dirty talk, power exchange, hand on neck (no breath restriction), face-sitting, breath restriction (Simon receiving)

Notes: Happy Valentine's Day and anniversary of the death of the colonizer James Cook at the hands of the people of Hawai'i.

Simon pulls his thumb free and swipes it over your lips. You chase it, then gasp when his whole hand wraps around your neck. He meets your eyes, then uses his thumb to rock your head from one side to the other, slow. Your arms feel a bit weak as he examines your face.

“Color,” he rumbles.

“Green.”

“Wan’ you t’ sit on my face,” he says. “Color.”

You lick your lips, think for a moment. “Yellow-green.”

“Good girl.” Simon’s eyes crinkle in the corners when he smiles. “Talk to me.”

It would be silly to say “I’m a bit heavy,” since you’re pretty sure he could bench you as a warm up. “I don’t want to hurt your neck.”

“Won’t let you,” Simon answers, like it’s that easy. Maybe it is.

Still, you’re a bit nervous. “I haven’t had a shower.”

He uses his light grip on your neck to hold your gaze. “You trust me?”

You can’t help but nod. “I do.”

“Then trust me when I say I wan’ to. We c’n shower, later, if you wan’.” He shrugs. “Don’ mind eatin’ twice. C’n let you know the difference, if you like.”

“Simon!”

His laugh shakes the bed, and then the hand behind his neck comes down to grab your hip. He draws you up his body, until one of your hands is braced on his shoulder. You can’t help the way you shiver when he settles your legs on either side of his ribs, spread so wide there’s no way to avoid pleasant pressure where you’re already sensitive.

“Color, sweet girl.”

God, you want to do what he’s asking, but... “Are you sure?”

The grip on your hip goes just a little tighter. “I’m not gonna let you hurt me. An’ ‘m not hurtin’ you. This is only fun if we’re both ‘avin’ fun. Acknowledge.”

“Acknowledged.” It’s amazing how much the familiar idea calms you. “You’re not going to ask me for anything you don’t really want. I don’t have to agree to anything I don’t want. It’s supposed to be fun.” You take a deep breath and let it out. “Green.”

Simon hums as his hand comes down from your neck to sit against your collar bones and sternum. And then you’re yelping when he suddenly lifts you. You try to freeze, because of course you do, but he does something to get your legs around his arms and then your knees are up by his temples.

He only waits long enough for your hands to smack against the wall above the headboard before both of his are pulling you down against his mouth. You’re suddenly struck by the almost fearful realization that he’s made you tell him, many times, exactly how you like to be touched.

His lips and tongue immediately find your clit. But instead of the bombardment that you expect, Simon’s mouth is soft against you. He braces his big hands under your hips, and you can’t help but start to relax into his hold. The self-consciousness eases away as he drags the flat of his tongue over you, slow and indulgent. He makes a pleased sound from between your thighs and you can’t help but giggle as you let yourself sink closer to that fuzzy place your mind was in before.

It doesn’t take long for your hips to protest the position. You shift more of your weight onto your knees and let your forehead rest against your forearms. Apparently, that’s what Simon’s been waiting on, because his lips purse around your clit and suck. The moan that shivers out of you is echoed by his groan. And that’s all the warning you get before he really gets going.

Simon pulls you even more firmly against his mouth, and you know he can’t breathe, that his nose is surrounded by the fat around your mound. He doesn’t seem to give a damn, alternating between sucking kisses and spearing his tongue into your pussy with abandon. Something he does makes you clench and twitch against his face, a not-quite ticklish sensation that shoots up your spine. He does it again, again, again, until you’re grinding against his jaw with punched out moans.

You don’t even have time to worry about his lack of air. All of a sudden, his palms push you up, taking all of your weight for just a second, before you’re sat right back down. That casual show of strength would make you weak in the knees if you were standing. As it is, you can only moan and shiver as his hands shift, until his thumbs can hold your lips apart to give his tongue even more access to you.

The noises between you are obscene. You can bury your face in your arms to avoid seeing the blissful expression on his face, but there’s no way to avoid the wet sound of his mouth working. You can’t ignore how slick the entire lower half of his face feels against your pussy, your thighs, the underside of your ass. And then he uses his hand to shift your thigh and spread you even more open.

Jesus, you’re going to come like this. You can feel it fluttering through you, feel yourself getting wetter by the moment.

“S-Simon,” you whimper. You reach down with one hand to run your fingers through his short hair. “I’m - Simon, you’re gonna -”

His hands press you up again, just long enough for him to growl, “Give it to me.”

“Simon!” You accidentally yank at him when his tongue sweeps over your clit again. It’s hard to feel bad about it when he moans his approval into you. When he squeezes at your thighs, just this side of painful, you squeak, pulling again. “Si-!”

As you look down, his eyes are already fixed on your face, pupils blown wide. His right hand shifts, and then the tip of one of his fingers is inside of you again. The awkward angle makes you arch your hips back, chasing the sensation right into rutting against his tongue in an overwhelming wave of sensation.

You barely make a sound as your pussy clenches against his fingers, suddenly and totally breathless. The orgasm that rolls through you isn’t as devastating as the first one, but it’s strong enough to make your legs shake. You almost lose your balance, but he’s there, holding you up. His groans easily drown out your whimpering.

When he just doesn’t stop, you give his arm two desperate taps. “Si-imon!”

The prickle of his stubble startles half a yelp from you as he lets you slide unceremoniously off of his face and onto his chest. He looks debauched, smirk shining with evidence of your pleasure.

“Tha’ weren’t so bad, eh?” he rumbles up at you. He coos when all you can do is cover your face with one hand and shiver. “Feelin’ good, pretty girl?”

You hum, then look down at him from between your fingers. “Yes, sir.”

“Good girl. Did good trustin’ me,” He pets over your legs, equal parts gentle and firm. He looks contemplative for a moment, before asking, “Wanna cuddle?”

That’s exactly what you want. You swing one leg over so you’re not straddling him anymore. And then there’s a confused moment of getting your bodies aligned. The queen sized bed feels so much smaller with him in it. And then you realize that his face is still wet. You’re still wet against the thigh he’s put between your own.

You cringe when he uses the edge of the flat sheet to swipe half-heartedly at his mouth and chest. He laughs at your face before pressing a kiss to your forehead. When he lets you go to look into your eyes, you can’t help but press your lips to his.

He opens his mouth to yours immediately, and the kiss becomes filthy. His mouth tastes like you, like you’ve seeped into his skin.

So much for cuddling, you giggle to yourself as he rolls you onto your back and pins you under his bulk.

[typewritingyip]

The Arcturus Missions

Part Twenty Seven - Comms System Errors

Part Twenty Six

———

Mecha were designed to resemble humans, not initially, as the original designs were much more utilitarian such as suit eleven, but as they evolved the people behind the designs were alerted to an opportunity. Merchandising.  

It was meant to make them less threatening to the public, to be seen as the protectors of the planet rather than the destroyers fighting the aliens from above. There was also the obvious benefit to the companies who marketed the mech suits in various merchandise. Not around the human pilots, but the suits themselves.

Everything from children’s toys to clothing and everything in between. These massive heroes were easy enough to market and helped the children of the world feel less frightened, at least for a time.

Now that they have to watch some of the longest running suits fall apart from their tv’s while they hide under their school desks, they may start to think otherwise. 

—

All the mecha around him were trying to recover the pieces of what had been their campsite, while he was stuck being looked over by Flatline, who wasn’t terrifying or anything, not at all. 

The flashlight inbedded in the mech’s wrist flashed straight into one of his cameras, making Sunstreaker wince and try to shield his eyes, “God,” “Apologizes.” He was so screwed, whether it was Hound shouting at him, Sideswipe worrying over him, or Breakdown talking about frightening the locals it wasn’t going to be fun to deal with this.

Bluestreak was still worrying next to him staring very intently at his broken face, or well, the shattered glass of his mech’s visor. Most of the helm of his suit was full of the sensory equipment that provided the needed output to control the mech, a shattered visor wouldn’t cause any harm unless it hit one of his cameras. 

But Sunny couldn’t really explain that given the current circumstances, everytime he tried to shut off his external microphone to comm Blue privately Flatline would ask him a question or re-direct him somehow, “Alright, look this way.” Sighing deeply, Sunny followed the direction, turning a bit, grumbling.

It was bad enough that everyone was looking at him, now he was having to go through this circus, “Honestly, I am fine. It doesn’t hurt and I can see, it’s just something I’ll have to get repaired.” Flatline tutted and Bluestreak made a strangled noise, so Sunstreaker stayed put.

Most of everyone was picking up the remains of heaters and the burst supply crates in the distance, Bluestreak was on Sunstreaker duty while Ironhide was speaking with command in the distance. 

—

“To be fair, he handled the Quintessons beautifully. It’s just that he moved into Bluestreak’s second shot.” Ironhide was rubbing his neck, frowning a bit at the screen as Optimus frowned and Megatron’s line whistled lightly from the sand storm, “Are you positive that is what he said though?” Optimus’s voice sounded worried and Ironhide sighed deeply, “Yes, I’m sure.” He glanced over his shoulder to the strange mech.

With a vent, Optimus shakes his head sadly, “We continue to find disturbing things of their kind.” Megatron grunts, “Their plating being stamped with property labels and now lack of pain receptors in key areas, no wonder all Breakdown needed was the limb reattached and some rest.” Ironhide nodded and rocked back on his peds, “Their good mecha that are taking the worst from their kind to save it, were we any different?” Optimus offered a small smile even with Megatron’s angered grunt.

Glancing back to Sunstreaker, Ironhide shakes his head a bit, “It must have been part of that testing they did to become those so called pilots.” Then Megatron broke in, “Testing? They speak of it as if it were torture that they endured for the betterment of their kind. I would not call it testing.” His tone had a bite that almost made ironhide roll his eyes, “We are not waging war for equality on their planet Megatron.” Optimus sounded stern though not entirely convincing.

”If you two are going to flirt by talking about a class war I’m ending this conversation.” Ironhide crossed his arms, scowling at the screen and listening to the long moment of silence, nodding for a moment, “Thank you. So, how’s Hound?” With a hum, Megatron rubs his comm lightly, disrupting the light whistling, “He seems fine enough, Knockout is deeply concerned but Hound claims to be able to handle the issue.” Optimus nodded slowly, before frowning, “What issue?”

Megatron winced, “Ah, right. The rust smell, it’s how we found his stamped plating.” Both Optimus and Ironhide shivered, “Wonderful, now they are smelling of rust.” Rubbing a hand down his faceplate, Ironhide shakes his head, “They reek of rust, can swim in salt water without issue, take damage from our weapons which are not supposed to harm living metal, what else?” Megatron sighs deeply, “They are also seducing our best soldiers.” Ironhide grunted.

Even with burning face plates, Optimus clears his vocalizer, “I would not call what they are doing a seduction.” Megatron chuckles, “Maybe you wouldn’t, but the results speak for themselves.” Optimus makes a weak noise and Ironhide laughs, “Yeah, Bluestreak has yet to leave Sunstreaker’s side. Though I feel those two are significantly closer to the outcome like Jazz and Prowl then Mirage and Hound are or even Knockout and Breakdown are.” Megatron scoffs, “I severely doubt that.” Ironhide smirks.

”You’re just mad that you’re losing. Smokescreen told you it was a long shot, then again you always seem to go for those.” Optimus vented deeply, “Ironhide, now is not the time.” He nodded, “Apologies Prime, I should get back to clear up and comm Skyfire again.” He stands back for a moment before disconnecting his side of the comm. 

Megatron and Optimus were left on the line, staying quiet for a moment, “I take it now could be an appropriate to flirt over a class war?” Optimus’s face burned, “Megatron, you are caught in a sand storm.” He could feel the mechs smirk, “With nothing to do but wait it out.” Shaking his helm, Optimus clears his throat, “I am 82% sure Red Alert is listening and 98% sure Soundwave is.” At which point both mechs got pings, reading the simple line of ‘Switch to personal comm line if this is to be the topic of conversation.’ And Megatron howled with laughter as Optimus’ tried to melt into the floor. 

A moment later they both switched to their personal comms. 

—

Once Flatline left him alone, though on the order to rest, Sunstreaker had disconnected from the chair and gotten on comm with Bluestreak, “I really am okay Blue. See? Not a scratch on me.” Sunny turns lightly, still wearing most of his assistance suit even as he moves over towards his cot.

Bluestreak worries his derma, watching Sunny through his internal comms, “Sunny, I could have killed you if that shot had been lower.” Sunstreaker rolls his eyes, sitting down and removing his assistance suit in pieces, “Oh please, you are the best shot I’ve ever seen and I’ve seen some pretty great soldiers. Your first shot hit the Quintesson and I moved into the second one. It happens.” He stretches, back popping painfully.

He couldn’t help but shake his head, “No, not to me and not to us. I, I didn’t know it would hurt you.” Sunstreaker sighed deeply, “It shattered the tempered glass of my mechs face shield, it’s a common broken part back home. It knocked out a camera or two, these things just happen. Glass breaks.” Reaching under his cot, he pulls out a water pouch along with some of the dried greens Jazz was trying to make, it supposedly tasted like beef jerky though Sunny was not convinced.

Still watching. Bluestreak moves over and sits next to Sunstreaker’s prone suit, taking the mech suits hand carefully, “I don’t know how you can stand it, knowing your death is so imminent.” Sunstreaker stopped, sticky greens stuck to his teeth and nearly caused him to gag.

Pulling the so-called food away from his teeth, Sunny grabbed his case from Earth to dig out a protein bar instead, “The life of a pilot is dangerous, but the integration of our gear decreases our life span by a lot. Even if I stopped being a pilot tomorrow, I’d have at most another twenty years.” He shrugged and tried to wash out his mouth, cursing, “God that’s awful.” He cleared his throat painfully.

Sighing, he looked towards his camera, trying to offer a smile, “I’d rather go out fighting tomorrow then struggling to breath twenty years from now, in some bed rotting. Believe me Blue, I’m content with how things are and everything we’re doing right now is saving lives. Knowing that is enough.” Bluestreak was on the verge of tears, optics dark to hide it.

”I wish you’d never have let your kind do these things to you, you deserve far better than this.” Sunstreaker grinned, “Nah, I don’t, but it’s nice that you think so.” He shrugs a bit and starts eating the protein bar, “So tell me about these special weapons that can’t kill your kind.” Nodding a bit, Bluestreak wipes his optics and leans back, “Well, we just found peace before this war started. We didn’t want to kill each other anymore.” Sunny smiles and listens while he eats. 

—

The sun was finally starting to rise and Hound was asleep, but so was Mirage. Features soft and protected by Hound overtop of him. To be fair, had the storm cleared up yet there would be a significant amount of visual captures for blackmail but no one could see more than a few inches in front of their optics yet.

Hound woke up in a lot of pain, body stiff and uncomfortable, lying long ways across the seat with his knees bent over the arm and back against the other arm, “God that was a mistake,” he stretched painfully before scooping up his helmet and pulling it on. Reactivating his visual feed and frowning as the sand was still blowing across his cameras. 

“Well shit.” He was stuck, holding Mirage’s head out of the sand and knew that once the sand cleared people would be looking for them. In the moment it had seemed like a good idea and now he knew that it was a compromising position no matter what species you were. Sighing slowly, his face burns, adjusting his helmet and getting plugged back into the suit. 

His visor shines bright for a moment and Mirage’s optics online, “Oh Primus,” Hound winces, “Sorry.” He adjusts his microphone and fixes his helmet before taking the controls again, shifting his weight to be on his knees instead of his elbows, the suit sinking in the sand. 

Mirage’s optics cycle a few times, staring through the blowing sand, “Ah, I didn’t mean to fall into recharge.” Hound smiles a bit, face still warm with blush, “Yeah, neither did I, but I think the storm is starting to let up.” With a hum, he knew Mirage was checking his comms, “Yes, Megatron thinks so too. Once it’s clear he wants to speak with us in command.” Nodding a bit, Hound tries to glance up and around, sand blowing everywhere.

They laid there in silence, listening to the wind howl and sand blow every which direction. As the sun rose it was finally starting to clear and the howling started to die down.

Though that’s when the sirens reached their ears and audials, Hound was looking up and around, pulled away from Mirage though keeping a hand on the mech's shoulder. It wasn’t clear enough for his cameras but clearly it was clear enough for optics around them, mecha jumping up or diving for their weapons. Mirage and Hound shared a glance before getting up, running for command.

A large ship overhead and actively scanning the landscape, moving closer and closer to New Kaon. 

—

The damn comm was still pinging on the wall but Sideswipe had gotten his suit repaired enough to climb into it and go over to answer it. 

He bite his tongue for a moment, then answered, “This is Sideswipe,” He bit the inside of his cheek, holding back the sarcastic shit he would say back home, “Sideswipe, just the mech I had been trying to comm for most of the day. Why have you not reported to my mandatory training?” 

He scratched at his face lightly, “Sorry, who is this?” The sigh was deep on the other end of the line, “Elita-One, now, unless I get word from Prowl or Optimus Prime that you are unable to show up, I expect you here five klicks ago. Am I clear?” Sideswipe stared at the comm, glanced around the apartment before smiling a bit, “Be right there.” Before he hung up. 

It took him a bit to get back out of the suit and leave a note for Breakdown, but he was back out the door soon enough. Smiling as he went, not even remotely prepared for training but desperate to leave the metal box. 

—

Command was in chaos, Megatron on comms with his commanders in the city and ordering those who could go underground to go down and those who couldn’t out of the city at the very least.

It was loud, painfully loud but Hound couldn’t turn down his audio receptors any further without seeming deaf to those around him. When the pair of them got into command, Megatron whipped around fast, “Mirage, I need you to take up defensive position six, Hound you’re with me.” Hound glanced at Mirage and watched the mech disappear in front of his eyes before looking back to Megatron, “How did they get here so fast?” Megatron shook his head, “I don’t know.”

Moving across the room, Hound goes up to the projection table and the live projection they got, their current position compared to the enemy. He stared for a long moment, “We need to get them lower if we want to stand a chance without all the seekers.” Megatron hummed, going back to his comm.

Hound worried his lip, tilting his head, watching the ship grow closer, “Fuck.” He watched for a moment longer, looking at Megatron and then outside to the rushing soldiers, “Sir, my orders?” Waving a hand lightly, “You are to remain here, they are to far and high up for you to be much help Hound,” Megatron turned back around and stopped. 

Humans would always be humans, he might have asked for his orders but it was painfully obvious what they were. It wasn’t what he was willing to accept, not after the compromises he’d made. So by the time Megatron had turned back around, he was out the door and half way across what would be the battlefield, assembling his gun with a new practiced ease. 

There wasn’t time to wait around for the right moment and Hound had faced worse odds before. Slamming into a rock formation, he crouches and adjusted his rifle, fixating the scope on it before turning.

He nearly jumped out of his skin, staring at a wide eyed Mirage. Cracking a smile, Hound chuckles, “Come here often?” Mirage smiled a bit, “Can’t say I have.” Turning back, Hound leans forward and adjusts his visual feed to look down the scope, scanning the ship, “Megatron might start yelling for me, ignore it.” Chuckling, Mirage shakes his head.

It wasn’t a ship he’d seen before, not on Earth or Cybertron, not even on any of their neighboring planets. This was something different, something larger, but he could guess why. New Kaon was a very practical jumping point to reach Cybertron just this part of space.

As well as if they took the city, it could give them needed information on how the planet’s buildings or security worked. It’s the same reason why so many costal towns on Earth had been flattened. Rather them be flat and gone then the enemy potentially learn how to reach everything else.

Hound watched, waiting with baited breath before seeing it. A puff of heated air from the ship, then fired on it. A spray of energy blasts struck that part of the ship and a loud explosion rocked it in the air. He couldn’t help but let out a sigh of relief, “That’s their engine. Quints will bail before they crash.” Mirage swore loudly as they started doing just that. 

They had seen battlefields of Quintessons, it was the new normal while dealing with the Cybertronian attacks, it had become clear they were still fighting mostly scouts on Earth. Here they were fighting ones ready for combat, they honestly wasn't that different. Still simple enough to eviscerate and destroy, but there were a lot more of them to deal with. 

Dozens of them bailed from their battle bay, falling towards the surface where even if they made an impact they’d just get back up.

Taking slow deep breaths, Hound grabbed some water and what little food was close to hand, disabling part of his suit to get these down. His comm was silent for the moment, muted so that he wouldn’t have to listen to Megatron yelling at him to retreat. 

Mirage was starting to fire on the enemy, rifle booming with each trigger pull, ion rifle painfully loud. Hound leaned back against the rocks, nearly choking on the chunks of space planet and water. Not having the time to deal with them, tossing them both across his cockpit before reactivating his equipment. 

It was one breath, to disable the rifle in his arms back into a handheld blaster before he was up and over the rock formation. A few mechs were already fighting in the distance and it was time to join them. For a moment, he contemplated turning on his comm. Flicking the switch to activate it all it did was screech in his ear.

Hound couldn’t be sure if that was interference or someone’s voice, but now was not the time for distractions. Turning it back off, he connected with a single private come to Mirage, “Watch my six.” He was pushing his mech hard, body painful and skin burning, “I’ve got you Hound, handle business.” He smiled a bit, wanting to glance back for only a second before his gun was up and firing. 

Blowing off a Quintesson tentacle that tried to wrap around a mechs door wind, gun up and firing a constant stream of shots, Mirage’s own rifle booming through the comm line. 

It was really going to be a long deployment. 

———

A/N:

Happy Valentines Day everyone! Also happy birthday to my best friend, you’re fantastic.

So this chapter sorta just happened, I only started it today and just was trying to reach 3k words. Probably not my best work but it’s been a day.

Hope that you all still enjoy it non-the-less.

Tags:

@lunarlei68 @whirlywhirlygig @loop-hole-319 @pixillandjester @alek-the-witch @not-a-moose-in-disguise @goddessofwind8water @neurologicalglitch @dersereblogger @pixel-transformers @mrcrayonofdoom @wireplaces @twilightfreefaller @original-blog-name-2 @devilangel657 @robbin-u @childofprimus @miniartistme @starwold @tea-enthusiasm @valeexpris606 @celticdoggo @bird599 @agentsquirrelsgotrobots @aquaioart @thatwandercat @artdagz @seisha974 @starscreamloverfr @halenhusky309 @leethepiper @cat-cassette @blue-wrens @sirassban @cosmique-oddity @garbageenthusiast @osqindaxend @xervias @azulabutterfly @fryseem @spring-mc @echo-circuit @aghostsnail @wooblewooble @ask-glory-haddock-and-others @nonsscarpheap @magichats @iminahole247 @omgflyingderpywhale @pour1tin @thetrexartist @naaaafam @elegantmantaray @emichusai @waterlilykitty @diabolichare @ham4ponyo @osqindaxend

And once again thank you to @keferon for this amazing AU!

[daisy-01-blog]

Busy woman! (Boss!Gojo x co-worker! fem! reader) 

SMUT 

MINORS DNI 

A/N: Happy Valentine lovelies! stream busy woman by Sabrina Carpenter!

It's valentine's day and you're thinking of killing yourself. Everyone seem so happy and you're just so fucking miserable. You recently ended things with your one year boyfriend.

You noticed how life has been too good for you these months, should’ve known something like this is going to happen. 

You got a promotion on your job!, and your boyfriend bought you a car as a present! life’s perfect. 

Too perfect. 

Turns out he bought it for you since he’s feeling guilty, because he’s been cheating on you. It has been a year, does it mean nothing to him? 

You sold all his presents (except for the car), and on some days you just cried from the hurt. 

Now it’s Valentine’s day, and you feel sick seeing all these people. 

They’re going to break up one day! Does it not matter? your heart clenched as you went to your office. This is so stupid.

*** 

“(Y/N), the boss is calling for you in his office” your co-worker told you. 

You frown, did you mess up your report again? you scoff as you went inside his office. 

Gojo Satoru is your boss, just your usual nepotism baby who got this company from his dad. You wouldn’t admit it, but he actually manages this company pretty well. 

You’re not close with him, just like the other co-worker isn’t close with him

“I need a favor” he said to you 

“And that is?” you asked him 

"Go out with me" Gojo said

"What?"

"Fake" he clarifies "be my fake date"

You frowned “is this some kind of joke?” you muttered. Why did he need a fake-date for? 

“It’s Valentine’s day” he mutters “and my family has been begging me to bring a girlfriend with me on family dinner today” 

“So?” you said “can’t you say no or something?” 

He sighed “he’ll mutate me to another company of his if I didn’t bring anyone” 

“What!” you said 

He huffs “I already like this place” he mutters “I’m already familiar with the people too, there’s no way I’ll leave” he said. 

You nodded “fine, just for a week right?” 

He grins “if that’s the case, let’s practice” 

You blink “practice what?”

*** 

A few minutes later, he’s kissing your lips and you-you didn’t know why you didn’t push him off. You guys are literally still in his office. 

He tastes like peppermint and he smells sultry, your head feels dizzy. 

“Mmmh…” he pants as his tongue entangles with yours. 

He has always wanted to do this with you, and you taste so sweet. 

After a while you guys let go, he grins seeing your flushed appearance. 

“One more time” he said and you nodded. 

***

The family dinner was actually pleasant, his parents are very nice. There’s lots of food and they offer it to you non-stop. 

It would’ve been perfect if Gojo wasn't stroking your thighs behind the table. 

You gasped as he fingers you while you guys are on the family's table. You bit your lips as you hold your moan. 

“Is everything okay?” his mom asked as you nodded, biting your lips. 

“Yes…just feel a bit lightheaded, I just recovered from my fever” you lied. 

They nodded and told you to take it easy. 

You bite your lips as his fingers play with your pussy, and he has the audacity to keep on eating. 

His fingers rub your clit as you hear him chuckle quietly “so wet” he whispers and you squirm in pleasure. 

The lewd wet noises make you feel embarrassed as you bit your lips, shuddering in pleasure. 

As he finds your g-spot, you splurt. 

He grins “enjoying the food?” and you glare at him. 

*** After the family dinner, he brings you to an amusement park-he wins you a big teddy and you guys have so much fun. 

But you-you can’t do this. 

You’ve fallen for Gojo again. 

You’ve always liked him, but give up since he’s literally your boss. 

But now, this felt too real. But you’re scared, he’s just joking-this isn’t even real dating. You felt sick. 

"I think we can't do this anymore" you said

“What?” he paused, you guys are eating cotton candy

“This is inappropriate” you said to him

"But it has only been like a day!" he said

"Happy Valentine, Gojo" 

*** 

It’s the next day, and he calls you to his office-and you have no choice but to go there. 

“There’s something I need to say” he said “I like you” 

You avoid his gaze “I know” 

“You know? then why did you-”

“I’m scared” you sigh “and this isn’t the best occasion, you’re my boss” you mutter. 

“I’m scared it will just be messed up again” 

He holds your hand “I want us to try” he said softly. 

“Okay” 

*** 

His desk creaked as he plows your pussy roughly, you hold your moan as his cock plows your gummy walls. 

“Fuck” he whines “always wanna try your pussy, baby” he said lewdly as his cock makes out with your pussy “you look-ah” he shudders “so good on your-mmm, skirt” he moans. 

Your eyes rolled back in pleasure, hips shaking in delight. 

“I love you” he groans, plowing you even harder “and your pussy too” he slaps your ass “I will never let you go” 

The desk creaked as the lewd wet noises filled his office. 

“Be quiet darling” he pants, fucking your pussy “tell your pussy to be quiet, what if people hear?” he moans. 

Your pussy tightens and he grins at that. 

“Slut” he grunts as he slaps your ass “turns you on when people see you huh?” he grunts as he plows your pussy to his shape. 

“Nooo” you whine in pleasure, shaking. 

“You’re mine” he shudders “fuck, here comes the load” 

You both moan as he spews jets of cum inside you. 

He grins “this is just the start” 

You chuckle. 

This is what you’ve gotten yourself into. 

[justaghouletteintheclergy]

𝐷𝑒𝑠𝑖𝑟𝑒 𝑌𝑜𝑢

𝑃𝑎𝑖𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔: 𝐷𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑚 𝑜𝑓 𝑇ℎ𝑒 𝐸𝑛𝑑𝑙𝑒𝑠𝑠 𝑥 𝐹!𝑅𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑒𝑟

𝐹𝑎𝑛𝑑𝑜𝑚: 𝑆𝑎𝑛𝑑𝑚𝑎𝑛

𝑊𝑎𝑟𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠: 𝐴𝑛𝑔𝑠𝑡, ℎ𝑢𝑟𝑡/𝑐𝑜𝑚𝑓𝑜𝑟𝑡, 𝑠𝑙𝑖𝑔ℎ𝑡 𝑑𝑢𝑏𝑖𝑜𝑢𝑠 𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑠𝑒𝑛𝑡 𝑏𝑒𝑐𝑎𝑢𝑠𝑒 𝑜𝑓 𝐷𝑒𝑠𝑖𝑟𝑒, 𝑠𝑢𝑔𝑔𝑒𝑠𝑡𝑖𝑣𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑚𝑒𝑠 𝑡ℎ𝑟𝑜𝑢𝑔ℎ 𝑜𝑢𝑡 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑠𝑡𝑜𝑟𝑦, 𝑠𝑢𝑔𝑔𝑒𝑠𝑡𝑖𝑣𝑒 𝑒𝑛𝑑𝑖𝑛𝑔, 𝑜𝑜𝑐 𝐷𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑚 𝑚𝑎𝑦𝑏𝑒? 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑖 𝑏𝑒𝑙𝑖𝑒𝑣𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡'𝑠 𝑖𝑡

𝑆𝑢𝑚𝑚𝑎𝑟𝑦: 𝑇ℎ𝑒 𝑚𝑜𝑚𝑒𝑛𝑡 𝐷𝑒𝑠𝑖𝑟𝑒 𝑓𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑑 𝑜𝑢𝑡 ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑏𝑟𝑜𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑟 ℎ𝑎𝑑 𝑎 𝑚𝑜𝑟𝑡𝑎𝑙 ℎ𝑒 𝑓𝑎𝑣𝑜𝑟𝑒𝑑, 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑦 𝑑𝑒𝑐𝑖𝑑𝑒𝑑 𝑡𝑜 ℎ𝑎𝑣𝑒 𝑙𝑖𝑡𝑡𝑙𝑒 𝑓𝑢𝑛 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ ℎ𝑒𝑟

𝐴𝑢𝑡ℎ𝑜𝑟'𝑠 𝑁𝑜𝑡𝑒: 𝐻𝑎𝑝𝑝𝑦 𝑉𝑎𝑙𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑒'𝑠 𝐷𝑎𝑦! ❤️💋

𝐻𝑒𝑎𝑟𝑡 𝑑𝑖𝑣𝑖𝑑𝑒𝑟 𝑏𝑦 @///𝑘𝑜𝑑𝑎𝑠𝑤𝑟𝑙𝑑. 𝐵𝑎𝑛𝑛𝑒𝑟 𝑏𝑦 𝑚𝑒

Desire of the Endless. A being who thoroughly enjoyed tormenting their siblings. Especially their Brother, Dream. Dream was always so easy to tease, to get under his skin and drive him mad. Desire had always thought his dear Brother was so pompous and arrogant. Dream was always in need of a little humbling, in their opinion. And when they learned that precious little Dream had a mortal that he oh so adored? They couldn't help themselves but meddle in and have some fun. They grinned as they left their realm and into the Waking world.

Y/N came home from a long day of work, eager to settle down and relax for the evening. Taking her shoes off as well as her coat, she tossed them aside, getting settled in. She stretched briefly, attempting to ease the tension in her shoulders. She took a tired sigh before taking a sit on her plush sofa.

She glanced at her phone, it was only two hours before dinner time so she allowed herself to rest for a moment. She flipped on the tv and began to channel surf before finally settling with an old movie channel.

The peaceful silence however, did not last long. A familiar voice spoke, coming from behind her.

"Hello Y/N."

She turned around at the sudden sound and smiled when she spotted her dear friend standing there. "Hello Dream, what you doing in the Waking world?"

"Am i not allowed to visit with my dear friend?" He questioned, corners of lips turned into a teasing smirk as he made his way over to the sofa.

She let out a chuckle. "No, no, you're always welcome here." replying with the same kind smile she gave him earlier. It was not unusual for the Dream King to come and visit Y/N in the Waking. When they became closer, she told him he was more than welcome in her home. Always quite eager to show him everything about the modern world.

"I have missed you." he confessed, taking a seat next to her.

Y/N blushed. "I missed you too Morpheus." It had been weeks since they last spoke to one another. Not by choice mind you. Dream had the Dreaming to run and protect. While Y/N's job always keeps her busy as well. She understood the King's duties well enough and did not fault him for it. Although it didn't stop her from missing him a great deal. She enjoys his company, his companionship. In all honestly... She was absolutely taken by the Lord of Dreams.

"I could not stop thinking of you, being with you.." He scooted closer towards her, being close enough she could feel his warm breath on her cheeks. Hooded eyes stared deeply into hers.

"I..." She found herself tongue tied at the confession. Y/N was deeply in love with the Endless sitting next to her. She longed and yearned for him in dreaded silence. And as much as she cared for him, she did not pursue the thought of a relationship. She valued him as a true friend, she would hate herself if she went and spoiled it all on a ridiculous infatuation. It hurt, it cut deep but what could she do? Besides... How could a Endless like he love a mortal like her?

"I crave you, i desire you my dear Y/N." The man stated, giving a coy smirk as he snaked his hands around the woman's waist. Slowly leaning in close to whisper in her ear, nose gently grazing her cheekbone. "I want you, i need you."

The woman let out shiver at his deep alluring voice. She could scarcely believe what was happening right now. The King of Dreams wanted her, needed her. Her heart was hammering against her chest, she was almost afraid it might burst from how fast her heart was beating. It was all too much! Yet... She desired him, just as much as he did for her. She craved his touch, yearned for his lips to be pressed on her own, she wanted the King of Dreams and Nightmares.

"Dream-" she spoke in a gentle whisper.

✦•······················•✦•······················•✦

"Enough of this!" Y/N's head snapped in the direction of the noise There was Dream standing in her living room, he was seething. If that was Dream... Then... She immediately leaped from her couch. In place of the "Dream" she was speaking with, sat Desire instead.

Desire grinned at the woman before turning their attention to Dream. "Hello Brother dear-"

"Silent. I told you what were to happen if you were to interfer with my affairs." Dream interrupted, his voice somehow gotten deeper as he spoke. A rage building up inside.

"Come brother dear, i was just having a bit fun!" A cheshire smile still plastered on their face as they rose from the couch and made their way over to Y/N. The woman stepped back, not wanting to even slightly be next to the Endless.

"Leave. Now." The King's voice sharp and forceful. The room suddenly colder, like a breeze from a winter storm had crashed in. The lights seemed to have gotten darker. Almost if the shadows were beginning to devoured the only light source in the room. Shadows which were coming from Dream himself. He was different. His normally bright starry eyes, were pitch black. Bottomless pits of nothingness as he stared daggers at his sibling. He also seemed... Taller? And his hair seemed more wild than usual. One would call it a bird's nest. This was not the King of Dreams, but the Lord of Nightmares.

Desire sighed as they twirled Y/N's hair around their fingers. How Y/N wanted to slap their hand away, but was too fearful of making this situation worst than it already was.

"Alright, i'll leave. But you're absolutely no fun, Brother." Desire gave a wink to the mortal woman before finally taking their leave.

✦•······················•✦•······················•✦

Once Desire had left, the lights went back to normal and the sudden cold breeze died out. Dream himself even went back to normal.

Despite that, there was painful silence between them. Neither spoke for a moment. Only staring at each other.

"I'm sorry-" Before Dream could even properly speak, Y/N stormed off into her bedroom. Slamming the door shut and locking it.

The young woman crawled into bed as tears began to fall. She felt humiliated. Desire toyed with her emotions, her desires all for the sake of messing with their brother.

She understood now why Dream didn't get along with them. They were cruel, taking pleasure from building people up and tearing them down.

The woman clutched onto a nearby pillow, burying her face in the cushion as more tears began to pour. The worst of it all was that for a moment, she believed Dream returned her feelings. That he too, felt just as deeply as she. That he wanted her in the same way. She was a fool for thinking so. Y/N hopes that Dream could forgive her and pretend that none of this happened.

✦•······················•✦•······················•✦

As if on cue, Dream was now in her bedroom, thanks to his trusted sand. "Y/N." Calling her name as he walked over to the bed. Gently sitting on the edge, not wanting to spook the woman.

"I am sorry for what Desire has done. I did not think they'd go this far."

Y/N didn't answer.

A few seconds passed before she turned her head, finally facing him.

Dream's heart ached at the sight of her. Her eyes were now red and puffy from crying, tears stained her cheeks. How dare Desire make the woman he loved, cry. To fool with her emotions as if they meant nothing. Y/N was a kind and caring mortal, he did not expect to fall in love again but fate decided otherwise.

She had captured his attention ever since their first meeting. He felt consumed by her, not a day went by he did not think of her. Dream could not bare the thought of not having Y/N in his life. He was deeply, ardently, in love with her. And the thought of what Desire had done, had the Endless seeing red. But one look at Y/N's pitiful form, he knew that this was not the time.

Dream slowly reached forward, checking to see if she protested the action. Once she made no moments to stop him, he continued. Brushing away the young woman's hair from covering her face in order to wipe away any stray tears.

She stayed still, enjoying the gentle touch from him. Not wanting to break away so soon.

For a minute the two stayed like this, neither speaking or even daring to move. Until Y/N rose up to a sitting position.

"I'm sorry too Dream." She muttered.

His brow furrowed. "There is no need to apologize to me, you did nothing wrong."

She shook her head. "I thought that was you. I thought..." Her voiced cracked as she trailed off. "Dream i-" raising a hand to her mouth, desperately fighting back a sob that threat to escape her lips.

Dream took Y/N's chin between his forefinger and thumb, causing her to look up at the Dream Lord.

"Do not be ashamed my love. For i feel the same as you. You have my heart." Dream confessed.

Y/N stared, mouth hanging slightly open agape. Her head felt like she spinning, she was a bit overwhelmed. Was her mind playing tricks? Or had Desire not truly left. "Please... please tell me this is not another illusion." She stammered. Y/N couldn't handle it if this was another twisted fantasy of Desires or something else of the alike. Her heart could not bare it, afraid that it might shatter.

Dream leaned in close, nose brushing against hers. "This is no illusion Y/N. Allow me to prove it to you." Starry eyes bore into hers. His breathe became shallower as he slowly breathed her in. Fighting the urge to just kiss her there and now. But stayed still, awaiting for her consent.

"Please."

At that simple plead, Dream pressed his lips against hers. The kiss was slow, sweet and perfect. The King's heart soared when their lips met, he poured every emotion he had into this single kiss. Letting the woman he loved know that his words were true. He was not a mere illusion created to destroy her heart, he was real. Dream was holding onto her, he was real.

✦•······················•✦•······················•✦

Slowly as the kiss went on, the more intense and passionate it became. Letting their inner most desires come forward. Dream's tongue licked at the bottom of Y/N's lip, silently begging to be let in. She moaned at the sensation and happily parted them. Instantly, his tongue dove in, exploring every inch of her mouth. He devoured her and all her senses. She was trembling with every swipe of his wicked tongue. Her hands flew up to Dream's dark hair, giving it a tug. A deep groan rumbled in his throat at the feeling.

Y/N soon parted from his lips, unfortunately needing to catch her breathe.

"You are mine Y/N. Every part of you now belongs to me, my love." Y/N couldn't help but tremble at his words. Dream's voice was low, arousal being quite obvious. His voice alone shoot a spark down her spine. A dark lust was in his eyes, his breathing was erratic, his hair was messier and his lips were pink and spit coated now. She shamelessly looked him up and down, taking in his current state.

A reaction not going unnoticed by the King. Dream's hands, which were placed on her hips, gave a gentle squeeze.

"Allow me to claim you, to worship you, to love you." Dream whispered to her, lips just barely touching. Waiting for his beloved's answer before giving into what he profoundly craved.

Y/N cupped Dream's face gently, thumbs caressing his cheekbones lovingly. "Make me yours, Lord Morpheus." That alone was all that Dream needed to hear before he smashed his lips against hers once more. A kiss that was filled with promises of endless pleasure and devoted love.

[rosetyler42]

My evilest one is Bill Cipher, hands down. It's unknown how many he's killed, but I base it more on his tendency for sadism amd torture, basically being willing to hurt anyone else for fun or to suit his own ends.

Alice/Susie is the one with the highest known body count but while Twisted Alice ALSO has a tendency for sadism and even cannibalism...she WAS corrupted by the ink after being treated like crap and how much was wither Alice or Susie's concious choice is debatable. Of the two, Susie's definitely the most evil, but even she was mentally corrupted by the ink after being killed and abused by Joey. As for Alice, my headcanon is she was basically innocent hidden underneath Susie and not as dominant. But others have it where Susie is the good one and Alice is evil.

Audrey is actually the most INNOCENT despite her body Count. Poor girl was thrown into the horrors and was only killing to survive because things were out to get her.

Ericka is...complicated. While trained to hunt and kill monsters: A. We only see her try to kill 1, and it's implied she never met a monster before. 2. She thought she was helping humanity, being a protector. She's basically a reformed and repentant bigot who realized the people she'd been raised to hate were actually the community and family she's always longed for. That said, she's still a morally grey femme fatale and a trained assassin with Conman energy who enjoys playing with people's heads. Unfortunately, many people hate Ericka unjustly for having been a bigot and accomplice to attempted genocide despite her redemption. Others hate her merely because she's Drac's 2nd Zing or that she's "Weird" or "Ugly."

Eclipsa is basically SEEMS evil, actually innocent. It's implied she killed to protect herself and her family.

Meteora has been debated back and forth by the fandom at length. On one hand what happened to her was horrendous, and it's hard to write her off as completely evil because of it. On the other...she did enjoy brainwashing, youth and soul sucking and her past doesn't nessecarily excuse her actions. Many think being turned into a baby and given a second chance was the easy way out for her.

This request was sent to us and we made a poll in response to it. Send any Blorbo-related question you want to our inbox and we’ll make a poll on which people can vote with their own Blorbos in minds

[6rookie-writer0110]

A thousand times

Josie Saltzman x Male Reader

Request- could you do a male reader x josie Saltzman. Josie and Reader started their relationship when the reader and Hope broke up, at a party reader noticed Josie sitting by herself and decided to talk to her.

You went to a party because you were forced to go because of your friends. You wanted to stay in your dorm room but that didn't happen. Now, you are just looking at everyone and holding your cup. Everyone is having fun and dancing and you feel out of place and you don't want to be around everyone. Hope broke your heart when she dumped you now you avoid her because the pain still hurts. You see her and she waved at you, but you just walked away.

You see Josie sitting by herself by the corner. You went towards her and sit next to her and she smiled at you.

“Hey Josie,” You said

“Hey Y/N,” Josie said

“I didn't expected you to be here,” Josie said

“I could say the same to you. But Caleb and MG dragged me to the party so I won't be locked in my room forever” You said

“Lizzie dragged me here too. I didn't want to come but she begged me to go. I looked away then she was gone” Josie said

“She is talking to Hope and some other people. She is having fun” You said

“I just don't want to be here,” Josie said

“We could leave and just talk,” You said

“We could do that” Josie smiled

You leave the party with Josie. Now, you are sitting in Josie’s bed and looking around her room. You and Josie are sitting very close to each other on the bed.

“Are you reading this book?” You asked

You grabbed the book that was on her bed.

“I like the author. It’s my first time reading the book” Josie said

“I like the book. I think you will like it, the ending I didn't like but I won't tell you” You said

“I didn't know you liked the author because not many people know about him” Josie smiled

“I don't talk about books with other people. I mostly read when I’m alone in my room” You said

“Same or I will read by sitting next to a tree,” Josie said

Now, you and Josie start to talk about music. You find out she is into indie rock and she shows you the artist she is listening to named Yot Club. Then you told her about your favorite band and she knows the band. You didn't notice but your fingers are on top her fingers but she noticted but didn't say anything to you. She always had feelings for you but lost her chance when you started dating Hope, but she isn't sure when to you how she feels about you.

While talking, she kissed you on the lips. You start to kiss her back and she doesn't pull away. In her mind, she is happy that she is kissing you.

——-

You are feeling sad and you are thinking bad about yourself. You are alone sitting by a tree and you are staring at your phone, staring at pictures of you and Hope together.

“I can't believe I was stupid to believe she was the one”

You said to yourself and your eyes became watery. But you didn't notice that Josie was in front of you.

“You are not stupid, Y/N,” Josie said

You looked up in shock.

“What-what you heard that?” You said

“Yeah. I came here to read alone, I didn't know you would be here” Josie said

“You can sit here. I just wanted to be alone and you know its hard to get that at school. Can I ask you something?” You said

“Sure,” Josie said

She sits next to you and you look at her.

“How can a girl say, she loves you then out of nowhere say she doesn't love you anymore” You said

“Love is complicated. To be honest, I think she got scared because she never fully gave herself to someone and it scared her. I don't think she fell in love before she started dating you, everyone is different” Josie said

She sees you deleting the pictures of you and Hope together. But she waits for you to say something

“Have you ever had your heart broken?” You asked

“Yeah, but I got over it because my sister was there for me to hear me talk about it. If you want to talk about it, I will listen to you” Josie said

“Just wish it was easy to get over it. Some days, I’m fine thinking I moved completely then out of nowhere it hits me and I will think bad about myself. I don't think was good enough for her and I don't think I will be good enough for anyone. I’m tired I give a part of me to someone and at the end I get hurt and I have to pretend it didn't hurt and I’m fine because I don't want to be burden to anyone about what I’m going there, so I lie saying I’m fine when I’m not” You said

“You are good enough, Y/N. I will be here to listen to you, I mean it. Some days, you will feel like that but you have to keep moving forward, it sounds cliche but it is the truth” Josie said

You and Josie continued to talk and she actually listened to you. After a while for talking, you and Josie don't say anything for a little bit just to enjoy the silence for a bit.

✯ ✬ ✯ ✬

2 Months Later…

Almost everyday you have been spending time with Josie. Talking about everything and always sitting by the tree to be alone with her. There were times, you and Josie would kiss each other and she developed stronger feelings for you. And she has been helping you move on from Hope, but you still avoid her.

You are lying in your bed, reading the book that Josie gave you. But she didn't knock on the door, she just opened the door and walked in then you sat up and got out of bed.

“Hey, what Can I do for you?” You said

“What are we?” Josie asked

“Friends?” You said

“Friends!?” Josie yelled

“Good friends?” You said

“So we can't be more?”

“I'm sorry Josie, I can't right now, I'm still heartbroken, and trust me you’re helping and I can get there someday,” You said

“Oh,” Josie said

She looks away.

“I like you a lot but I don't want you to be a rebound. I want to completely heal so that we will be able give each other what we want, if that makes sense” You said

“No, that makes sense Y/N. I really like you and I like spending time with you” Josie said

“I feel the same way,” You said

“Fine, but Hope will freak out,” Josie said

“Yeah, but I won't care what she thinks,” You said

——-

A lot has been going on, Josie became Dark Josie. Now everyone is trying to find way to get rid of Dark Josie but it's not easy. You and the others are tried to come up with a plan to save Josie.

“So you are the one that she likes,” Dark Josie said

“I don't want to hurt you,” You said

She laughed but she just walked towards you.

“You are mine now Y/N,” Dark Josie said

“I’m not,” You said

“You are, now shut up and kiss me,” Dark Josie said

“You are so hot right now” You smirked

“I know,” Dark Josie smirked

She grabbed your shirt and pulled you closer, then you felt her tongue going into your mouth and you started to kiss her back. Hope and Lizzie started to say a spell to weaken her, you moved and the spell is starting to work. They keep going then Josie will have a chance to defeat Dark Josie.

✯ ✬ ✯ ✬

Josie is lying on the bed and she starts to wake up, and you are sitting by her side.

“Y/N,” Josie said

“How are you feeling?” You asked

“I feel okay. Did you get hurt because of me?” Josie said

She sits up and you sit on the bed and you grab her hand.

“No, I didn't get hurt. Dark Josie kissed me. She let her guard down while Lizzie and Hope used a spell to help you defeat Dark Josie” You said

“It did work. You liked Dark Josie?” Josie said

“You are hot, Josie. Any version of you I will find attractive. But I like this version of you even more” You said

Josie couldn't help to smile and you smiled at her. You slowly lean in and you kiss her, then she puts her hand behind your neck and she starts to kiss you back.

“Do you want to go to the dance with me?” You asked

“Yes,” Josie smiled

She kisses you again.

——-

Lizzie is happy for her sister, she helped Josie pick out a dress. Then Lizzie gave you the talk about not breaking Josie’s heart. You and Josie enter the dance room and she is holding your arm. Hope did look but you didn't notice her then you looked at Josie

“You look so beautiful,” You smiled

“You look handsome, Y/N,” Josie said

“Let’s dance” You smiled

You and Josie walk down then you slow dance with her. You have your hands on her hips and she has her arms around your shoulders.

“Do you want to be my girlfriend, Josie?” You asked

“Really?” Josie asked in shock

“Yeah, I mean it,” You said

“Yes, I will be your girlfriend” Josie smiled

She gives you a peck on the lips and you continue to dance with her.

[loveandmurders]

Hi, I don't know if your requests are open. But you would ask me what the slashers would be like (thomas hewitt, hannibal, bo sinclair and any other slasher if you like). with a mute s/o (who does not speak and only communicates by signs).

I love your blog

Hey darling, I hope you'll enjoy these little thoughts for the three slashers you mentionned.

It was my first time writing for Hannibal (I used the one from the series, hope it's okay!) and it was a lot of fun 🥰

SILENCE ISN'T WEAKNESS (gn!reader x Thomas Hewitt / Hannibal Lecter / Bo Sinclair)

Warnings: no proof reading, mentions of bullies in Thomas' headcanons but he is there to protect you, violent and abusive/abused!reader in Hannibal's headcanons, mentions of a toxic family, killer!reader, cannibal!reader, mentions of murders and Bo being an ass (as usual), let me know if I forget anything.

Thomas Hewitt

When you arrived in town, you were still a child. You had cried so much and you had begged your parents to not move out from the town you had forever known.

Back there, you had struggled so much to get friends, because of your mutism, so you were afraid you wouldn’t be able to befriend anyone else.

People weren’t always nice to you, and they often forgot about your existence because they couldn't hear your voice to remind them you were there. You were also an easy target for bullies.

Thomas spotted you right away obviously.

And the first time, he stood up against bullies was for you. He couldn't stand that someone like you could get hurt.

You grew up together and you never left each other's side. Not even when his family decided to kill people to survive, and he was so grateful for that; he would have been completely lost without you.

You both enjoyed the silence full of love and tenderness between the two of you.

Actually, because you knew each other so well, most of the time, you didn’t even need to fully sign a word or a sentence for the other one to understand what you meant.

Your complicity and love for each other turned into something more than just friendship pretty naturally as you became adults.

Thomas truly felt blessed to have you in his life, because he knew someone was able to understand him and to be on his side no matter what. And vice versa.

Once a man moved in front of you while you were waiting in a line, and when you tapped on his shoulder to let him know you were there, he faked not understanding you and he laughed at you for not being able to speak.

It upsetted you quite a lot. You talked about it to Tommy because it was unfair for someone to treat you that way. Thomas simply asked you what the man looked like.

And the next day you found the man kneeling on the kitchen floor, begging for your forgiveness. His nose was broken and his face was already swollen from the hits he received from Thomas.

The Hewitts let him go once you accepted the apology. After this event, no one ever mistreated you.

You were happy among the Hewitts, Hoyt enjoyed your silence, Luda Mae enjoyed how soft you were to Thomas and Monty enjoyed how sassy you were when people were turning their back to you.

Hannibal Lecter

You grew up in a very poor and abusive family. Violence was the only thing you ever know. You quickly learnt that the people who should have taken care of you, would easily forget about you.

You had to learn another way to express yourself; a cruel and rough way. You couldn’t count all the time your knuckles got raw and bloody after you had beat someone to almost death.

Well the “almost” disappeared at some point. You were a hungry beast who didn’t trust anyone or anything. You knew that one day you were going to die in the street or die in prison, but truly you couldn’t care any less. 

You killed a man twice your size one night. He had stolen and eaten the food you just bought. It was the only meal you might be able to afford this week, so you had gone absolutely crazy.

When the police found you, covered in blood, they thought it was just another homicide in the poorest neighborhood of the city. That was until they saw that the man was missing a leg… and that you deliberately cut him into pieces, to cook and eat him.

Your case didn’t go unnoticed by Hannibal. He quickly used all his relations so he could get you as his patient. He wanted to meet another cannibal like him.

When he saw you for the first time, he didn’t get disappointed. Of course, you looked so ill because of the absence of food but he promised himself he was going to take such good care of you.

You didn’t understand why the man was so careful with you, so gentle even. He didn’t know a lot of ASL but he learnt more for you.

He carefully and patiently coaxed you into talking to him. The fact he brought you food all the time helped a lot, of course. He was the first person who used a soft voice to address you, he was the first to look after your wound, he was the first one to gently touch you.

You started to fall in love with him, and once he was certain you were hooked, he revealed his true nature to you and you only loved him more for it. You understood him, like he understood you. 

He never felt so much happiness when you eagerly ate the meal he prepared for you, while knowing where the meat was coming from.

Bo Sinclair

At first, Bo thought you were going to be a very easy prey. After all, you couldn’t scream for help and he noticed that your group of friends weren't checking on you as much as they should to keep you safe.

But because of your mutism, you were listening and observing people very well. Your friends were under Bo's spell but it was obvious to you that he was no good. Something in the way he looked at your friends when they weren’t watching made you wonder.

You also noticed someone moving from the corner of your eyes when you were visiting the House of Wax. You felt in danger until you used ASL to answer your friends. It was as if the shadow lurking in the dark couldn't hurt you anymore.

You did your best to never stay alone with Bo or in the House of Wax, no matter how much he tried and flirted with you.

Bo was quite dejected you weren’t falling right into his arms. He wasn’t used to that, so it quickly became a new challenge. He started to get interested in you because clearly you were a smart person.

At some point, he made a slight misogynistic remark about one of your friends and you sent him such a full of rage and venomous look that he shut up. He thought you were incredibly hot and he wondered if you might be as dangerous as his twin.

He started to sign to you as a peace offer and you were surprised he knew ASL. He told you about Vincent and he noticed it changed a lot of things for you. You started to get less impatient with him even if you didn't trust him

It didn't save your friends though. You mourned their death in the Sinclair's house.

You hated to admit it but talking with Vincent helped you a lot. You felt understood and you slowly stopped being afraid. You didn’t really have a choice anyways.

Bo never stopped trying to seduce you and it slowly started to work.

With you, the man was different. Your silence was bringing him peace. Your presence was casting his demons away. Your eyes were the most breathtaking things he ever witnessed. Your touch was driving him absolutely insane.

And maybe you were enjoying the silent and yet complete power you held over the man.

[lavenlady]

Characters Chosen:

Hello! Could you do Cybertronian Reader with the Personality of Starscream with an alt mode as a Jet. Getting transported to Metal Cardbots, good at hiding and aerial attacks from the war but not seriously enough to hurt others. they couldn't be contained due to not being a Metal Cardbot like themselves so it's hard to contain reader. The reader is Gender neutral and platonic for the characters. Also Have a Good Friendship with Anna like with Alexis from Transformers Armada.

OMG I love the Idea! Here you go @hkgcsecondsblog ! Enjoy!

❇︎ Transported ✈ | Platonic Metal Cardbot x Starscream!Cybertronian!Gn!Reader

It was unexpected - you got sucked into one of the portals that got created by an explosion caused by the fight between Autobots and Decepticons. It was not ideal, but better than dying so you didn't complain.

Still - it was confusing at first where you got transported, but that is when Anna came into the picture. A really polite little girl, but it became a problem when she couldn't exactly lie. You happily taught her some tricks.

Of course the mayor found out about your existence, but decided that you were having a more positive impact than a negative one. He let you stay, because you could protect Anna from harm and be her company.

It was quite easy maintaining your disguise, you loved the sky and you often would give Anna rides to and from school. She was more on the rich side, which made ot easier to explain how she got a jet, if anybody saw that.

How much Anna loved you! She really enjoyed spending time with you, doing homework or simply having fun. You could finally rest from the war as it had not followed you here.

It was weird when you started picking up other signatures, they were different than yours. The mayor was sure you could stand your ground, but still asked to look after his daughter.

When you first saw Blue Cop, you couldn't believe he was so much younger than you. Their species were so much younger than Cybertronians. It made you think back to the war, to the slaughter of youngsters, that is mainly how your species slowly started dying out. You kind of wonder what is going on in your world.

The Cardbot, as you have learned, had been staying with a korean child named Jun Grant. He was one of the classmates of Anna. He tried ... Sealing you? What even does that mean. You noted that his wrist watch-thingy could store other Cardbots as cards. The kid was quite shocked that he couldn't take you with him, but ultimately decided to make you his friend later.

It drove you crazy. Every time he obtained another one to the collection he tried defeating you. He only stopped at Heavy Iron, which he still wasn't able to beat you. That is how Anna found out about the cause of you injuries. She was rightfully mad - someone was beating her friend behind her back? Nope, not gonna happen. Jun had to ultimately stop trying to seal you to get you to listen.

You really were towering nearly over all of the Cardbots, the only exception was Heavy Iron and Black Hook. You found the outlaw funny as he was similar in looks to Optimus and in his doings to Megatron. It was such a hilarious mix. Though you wouldn't really trust him with other Cardbots, seeing how easily he burned the floor of the Auto shop - what would happen with youngsters? You wouldn't trust Black Hook fully either, with his ... specific personality.

The Cardbots were quite embarrassed after being called young, but they had to suck it up after you really started to treat them as children. Some of them didn't mind, they loved your attention. They would do anything in their might to grab it whenever they could. Shadow X especially - he would often try to prank you, but it always ended up in a failure. Though, he got fussed over when he nearly damaged himself.

Buffalo Crush would often ask you to join him for fueling. He learned your favourite kind - just for you. He gives you so much of it, that it lasts you for weeks. It really brings him joy to eat with his parental figure and he doesn't deny his fondness of you.

The rest was just like them, though not everyone would admit it. Mostly Heavy Iron, Wild Guardy and Buster Gallon. You really liked the Cardbots, wishing to live a war-free life, but deep down knew you needed to get back to your world. Your new companions really hope to keep you here as long as they can, you were not valued back then at all so ... Let them shower you with everything you deserved.

" I am not a child again [Y/N], I was a Star Guardian for Deus Machina's sake! "

" You had your own songs?! Do you have anything that would be similar to Musica Latina? I could even show you some moves! "

" It doesn't matter why I do not have a doctor's license. Let me take care of your health, even if I do not posses as much experience as your medics from your home planet. "

" Don't worry [Y/N], it was just a nightmare. You know, the usual, flames everywhere and you - huh? Hah, thanks for the hug. It really made me feel better! "

" Why won't you fall for my pranks! Uhg! You better pay more attention to me or I will do something to gain it! "

" Would you like to explore the forest? I could teach you some things about animals! I have heard you liked cats! "

" How about a relaxing flight? As a flyer I know just how much you need it and with how much you care about us, I hope you will enjoy it. I could even play on my flute for you. "

" Stop treating me like a child! I am going to become the next best Star Guardian! Stop petting my helm! "

" Would you like to fuel together? I just have your favourite! And we can meet up with Yuri, she sew something for you too! "

" Stop trying to get me to sleep! I just need to finish this and - HEY! Put me back down! My invention! - "

" I have just a spot in my crew for you! Don't worry, they won't be jealous - they want you there too! "

" Who is this Optimus and Megatron? I look like their fusion? Get you optics checked ... I don't want you to become blind. Don't get any ideas. "

□■□■□■□■□■□■□■□■□■□■□■□■□■□

( Hope you liked it! )

(Master list)

( Request away! )

[rei-does-stuff]

EXTREMELY LONG Cream unicorn cookie thoughts bc i have brainrot

—

-Okay so this whole brainrot started when I thought abt an evil version of Cream Unicorn A corrupted/distorted version of their ideals would be interesting ESP SINCE THEYRE ALREADY A LIL FUCKED UP LIKE AGAIN THEY WANTED TO KIDNAP CHILDREN

And it would be rlly easy too, just make it so they don’t change their mind the only reason they let them leave is because they didn’t want them to be upset, making it so they don’t care about that fact and it isn’t about their wants its about them, THEY WANT THEM STAY and it doesn’t matter how much they cry or how upset they are they’re staying with them no matter what

-I like to think that Cream Unicorn cookie in canon is still a little fucked, and has those moments of not wanting people to leave them, and has to just physically stop themselves from acting on those selfish feelings,

They just put on the front that everything is fine and normal and that they’re fine and normal because they don’t wanna scare anyone

“They love it here, they love me so ergo they don’t wanna leave YIPPIEEE EVERYONE IS HAPPY” meanwhile the kids are like “I wanna go home to my parents” You could also do the coraline route where cream unicorn is like “IM your real parent now :) im the one who should be taking care of you”

-(Also I need more cream unicorn interactions that ARENT with their extremely sanitized version, bc theyre so interesting and I hate that its never brought up how fucked they are

Bc others interactions with that version of them would be so interesting

Bc kingdom!cream has no real sense of loneliness, or much beyond happy dreamer because they don’t wanna acknowledge that they were kinda fucked up which I get WHY but still :/)

-Them and Shadow Milk cookie would get along I feel mainly bc Shadow would see right through Cream’s facade and see that aren’t as innocent as they seem

I say they still held people hostage but still left after in hopes of finding cookies who could inhabit the amusement park, maybe more than those just pure of heart bc theyre desperate Again a coraline other mother situation where they lead cookies in with the promise of fun and happiness, and try to convince them to stay with them willingly, though not exactly telling them the whole truth,

Because its okay if they WANNA be trapped <33

-imagine shadow calls cream out for lying just for fun

Shadow seeing right through creamuni and cream unicorn desperately trying to cover everything up with more lies is soooo!!

Shadow: Y’know cookieland is supposed to be for the pure of heart only but you don’t seem pure of heart yourself, or does that rule not apply to you? :)))

cream unicorn cookie: You can’t hurt him in front of the children you can’t hurt him in front of the children you can’t—

-Also hc that dozer was just in cookieland the entire time he was gone and cream finally let him out and thats why theyre finally back in the spin off games

He gets into those fuck ass scenarios in that puzzle game and each time hes like “I SHOULD HAVE STAYED WITH THE UNICORN I SHOULD HAVE STAYED WITH THE FUCKING UNICORN—“

-“It is unclear how long Cream Unicorn Cookie has been alive, but they are potentially one of the oldest in the game.”

Thought.

Cream unicorn cookie being a sort eldritch creature, more of a concept than a real person, representing the happiness and memories of being a child, its why they are so old, its bc theyre ageless and cant rlly die, additionally maybe they knew most of the cookies from when they were children but when they grew up they couldn’t see them again and forgot about them

They’ve been there since the beginning but no one remembers them because they’re only a memory of childhood and that pure heart you had when you were a child fades as you age

-I don’t remember if we ever see pure vanilla as a kid, but my brain immediately thought about the two meeting, Cream remembers him and is very happy, Pure doesn’t remember them and is very confused and uncomfortable and cream isnt very happy that pure and everyone else don’t remember them

Cream is very insistent that theyve met

Cream: You DO remember me! I know you do! Remember the carousel! You loved it! We were best friends! You have to remember!

Pure: No, I would have remembered that! We never met…!

I think after a while, cream starts to get angry when no one remembers them, they feel like they’re owed SOMETHING, they helped all of them so much and not a single one of them remembers them, it frustrates them

They get a bit desperate on convincing and proving to pure that they’ve met, that they’re friends

Being alone for that long messes with your senses, they probably don’t even realize how long it’s really been

They probably get rlly easily and overly attached to others, unhealthily of course

-[Shadow milk and Cream Unicorn toxic yaoi]

-I imagine cream looks at the kids who’ve grown up with a sort of sadness, they aren’t “pure” anymore, they don’t have that innocence and are jaded by the harshness of the world, they wish they kept them by their side so they wouldn’t have to grow up, they cling to the past and don’t understand that you NEED to grow and move on eventually

And what happens when cream unicorn ‘grows up’ will they cease to exist, because something greater entirely? They don’t know, and that’s what scares them, they’re the embodiment of childhood, if they have to move on from that, what even are they?

And if they’re not around who will be there to help the kids when they come to cookieland, when they need them one day, sure no one has shown up in so long but they might! They can’t grow up, they have to sit there and wait, wait for someone to eventually show up

Cream unicorn is basically a child in a grown up’s body, terrified and unwilling to grow up and move on

-Cream unicorn sees shadow and thinks “is that me? Is that who I am going to be?” And it scares them, is that how the kids see them? Because shadow milk is the result of what happens when you don’t move on

Cream unicorn doesn’t want kids to be afraid of them, is why they let apple cookie and co leave in the first place, they want to be that comfort, that blanket you hold when it’s thundering at night, but the more desperate they become for love and any sort of companionship they realizes that they aren’t the blanket anyone, they are the thunder, they’re the one who is driving everyone way, it’s all them

Imagine the kid their trying to get stay with them screams at them, they look terrified and scream at them like bloody murder desperately just trying to get away from them and it finally hits them a bit, they’re stunned, not even knowing how to react

-this song and mikages arc in general are heavy cream unicore

“Freezing cold in the dark, puppets become human, is in the way of everyone”

“Ah just tell to me when and where is it that I am?”

“Destiny! Formless! Illusive! *Stagnating!* I am an imaginary living body waiting for the end”

“I need more time in this world, I will never be resting, clinging to existence as a hallowed out form”

Stagnating is really the word to describe Cream Unicorn honestly, theyre clinging to something that isn’t there anymore, they aren’t needed anymore, theyve served their purpose but they dont want to rest, they need needs more time, they needs to be there for some imaginary child that might need them one day, they can’t grow up, they can’t leave, not yet

-I think Shadow Milk will make Cream worse, and Pure Vanilla could possibly fix them,

-Apple cookie is the only person cream unicorn really trusts so imagine she sees cream unicorn cookie becoming worse and tries to help them not realizing how much danger she’s putting herself in by doing that

And imagine if Shadow Milk messes with Cream Unicorns memories to make him believe that Apple cookie hates their guts, they couldn’t handle it…At all.

[bebsi-cola]

ableds really think tht having to rest all the time is fun and relaxing instead of boring as shit (as many people say) but man i never mention the ways rest itself is just straight up painful. like the pressure of your body hurts your muscles. holding your body stilltoo long also makes an ache in your joints. hell my hips hurt just from sitting down all the time. it's also super easy to get neck pain if you're not doing much. your muscles get tight when you don't move and that hurts too. certain positions will affect breathing too, it's just like everything is difficult and painful including resting

[sweetbillwriting]

Way Out of Line

SEVEN

Character: Keith Toshko from Barbarian (2022) played by Bill Skarsgård.

Warnings: 18+, NSFW, heavy themes.

My family and I had gone to Aspen since I was seven. My dad's practice went well, and we had recently bought the house we lived in now; the one before had been much more modest. I had never seen myself belonging to a class; for me, my family was just an ordinary family, but after I had started college, I had realized what a safe environment I came from. Jason and I were given trips, expensive clothes, and had done the activities we wanted since we were kids. I started to go to the hairdresser every fourth week when I was twelve. For me, money wasn't that big of an issue and probably why I didn't react that much to the news that Keith was rich. The only thing I could think was that it might be easier to get my parents to accept us as a couple if he could give me economic security, but otherwise I just thought about his divorce. It wouldn't be easy for him to become a single man.

The thought of his divorce was what destroyed the trip for me because I couldn't really enjoy the present. The only thing I could enjoy were our late-night conversations and what he had taught me. He was the one teaching me how to masturbate. My finger transformed to his during our conversations and also his cock, even if my fingers were much smaller.

“I’ve gotten something for you. When you come home, your dad will receive a package for me that he will put in my bedroom, but then you can get it.”

I looked at him with a small smile, believing it would be jewelry or maybe a dress, now that I knew he had money. He sat with a bare chest against a white wall with some fluffy brown pillows behind him. I sat naked on the bed of my hotel room, tired after having two orgasms.

“What is it?”

“It's a dildo,” he said with a smirk. Just the word made me blush but another feeling followed. Was it disgust? I couldn't tell, but it obviously showed on my face because Keith laughed.

“Baby, it's nothing weird. Especially not when I work like I do. I will be away like this again, and I think you need a better replacement for me than your small hands. It will hurt again when I come home otherwise.”

I didn't say anything because I only thought about the plastic manhood and felt the weird feeling spread through my chest. It was one thing to call him daddy and show my naked body on Snapchat, but receiving a sex toy? Even if I didn't know if I believed in Jesus, I could feel him judging me from above.

“It's classy, I promise. And pink.”

I swallowed hard because to me his cock was also pink, and even if I had learned to appreciate his cock’s appearance, I didn't need a plastic replica in my nightstand drawer.

“And it's smaller, so it will be kinder than me,” he joked, even if he always was kind when we had any form of sex.

“Okay…” I said with an exhalation, prepared to give it a chance. I could look at it first. Keith smiled sweetly.

“There is also lube and handcuffs in there.”

“Keith!” I said now with rose-red cheeks that made him laugh.

“What? Come on, baby girl, it's nothing. It's just for fun, but we don't have to do anything. I guess… You just make me so fucking horny. The pictures of you… I look at them so much it's unhealthy. I've just parked somewhere to jerk off sometimes and…” He dragged his hands through his hair like he was embarrassed, and I laughed at his awkward body language. He looked so sweet when he looked all uncomfortable, but he was dirty under that sweet persona.

I could see how his eyes fell to my naked breasts again, and without looking up, he corrected his phone and how he sat so I could see that impressive erection lay against his belly. I giggled, and he smirked and dragged his hand over his shaft.

“What is it, princess?” He said with a smirk. “Are you laughing at Daddy?”

“No, Daddy,” I giggled and bit my thumb, attractively.

“Otherwise, I must spank you even more when I come home.”

“Even more?”

“Yes, you’ll be punished for not accompanying me to Detroit.”

“You never asked!”

“You should have asked, so this is your fault, baby girl. Daddy shouldn't need to do all the work.”

He smirked teasingly, and I scoffed, amused at him.

“Can you get on all fours over your phone so I can see if you're wet for Daddy?”

I blushed again. It was obvious he liked it when I became embarrassed and felt challenged, but as I was told. I always did what he wanted because I realized I liked it too. I liked the power he had over me and how he made me feel small but sexy.

He told me to touch myself, and I could hear him jerk off even if I couldn't see him. Just that was a turn-on. I knew he probably took some screenshots too, because he always did. He was a dirty old man who jerked off in his car between house showings, but I liked it, and I sent him more photos without him even asking. He liked close up videos of me masturbating but he also liked innocent photos of me pouting in discontent. He liked when I woke him up with a sweet message or sent him a video of me doing my makeup.

I wondered if he was in love with me, if he thought about me as much as I thought about him. It did seem like it because every night he called me when he was away. He did the last week he was away too.

“So what, you share a house with that girl now? I asked on the phone. He hadn't video called me that night but voice called me instead in a hushed tone, probably so the girl wouldn't hear him.

The Airbnb he stayed in had been double booked, and because of some conference in Detroit, neither of them could find another place to stay. He told me the girl was probably a few years younger than him and was quite nervous in his presence. I couldn't understand why; Keith was the sweetest man.

“But like… Where will you sleep?” I asked carefully.

“On the couch. I can't let a woman stay on the couch, my mom taught me better,” he joked, and I made an amused sound even if I was worried.

“Where is she now?”

“She’s in the bathroom.”

I swallowed hard. I was Keith's mistress; could he cheat on me too? He had an easy chance now, in another town, living with some girl without a connection to him, his wife, or me.

“Is she pretty?” I asked with a dry, nervous voice.

“Baby…” he said with a sigh.

“Please just answer. Is she pretty?”

Keith was silent on the line a few too many seconds, and that really said it all to me, but he still answered.

“I guess she is, but…” he sighed again.

I had no idea how Keith was towards other women. He was a sweet, good-looking guy. Tall and manly. I didn't even know if he needed to be any certain way to get women's attention, but I still wondered if he was the flirty kind. He had caught me on his hook so easily even when I had considered myself elusive.

“So what are you doing, baby girl?” He tried to change the subject; it was painfully obvious, but I let him. I didn't know what more I could say on the subject.

“I’m just watching a series.”

He tried to get me to talk about the series, but our conversation died quite quickly. I noticed by the questions he asked that he prepared himself to hang up.

“I will never forgive you if you sleep with her!”

The words suddenly burst from me, right before we would say goodbye.

“I will not sleep with her.” He sighed, and I could hear irritation in his voice.

“Yes, you will! I know you will! Look what you're doing to me! My dad is your best friend!”

I was a crying desperate mess, spilling out my fears on him.

“How can I trust you?!”

Keith was silent on the line until I heard a low, unamused laugh.

“Ohh… Wow! I think it's time for us to hang up here… I need a drink. I… I’ll see you around.”

“Keith… Daddy…” I whined. I said the pet name in an attempt to gain his attention, but he gave me a low goodbye before hanging up. I looked at the phone in my hand, now crying silently to myself. Why did I say all that? I hadn't even so much as thought about how our relationship could tell you about him as a person. Now, it clearly came up as soon as I felt unsure about him.

I thought about calling him back, but something told me Keith wasn't the person who would see that as a type of love language; he would just see it as annoying. Instead, I wrote a message on Snapchat:

I'm sorry for what I said. I didn't mean it, and I trust you. Please just call tomorrow or something. I really like you, Keith.

He opened it but didn't answer.

×××

Dad stood by the entrance door with the anonymous brown package in his hands. He casually chatted with the delivery guy and dropped the package to his side. I had heard him say it was to Keith Toshko, so I knew what my dad held in his hand, while he didn't have a clue. He closed the door when the delivery guy turned his back on him and then looked down on the package. It was as big as a small shoebox, and he could easily hold it in one hand. I stood by the stairs, having paused in my steps after hearing the delivery guy say Keith's name. My dad looked at me, looked again at the box, then stretched his arms out towards me.

“Can you put this on Jason's bed for Keith?” I looked at the box like he gave me a loaded weapon and put my hands behind my back, afraid to even touch it. It was no longer for me, but it was still meant to be for me.

“Why can't you do it?” I asked with a small voice. My dad furrowed his brows.

“Sure, I can. I just thought you were on your way up?”

“I must study.” I said it shortly and ran up the stairs without looking back at him. It felt like he would be able to see by me or the box that we belonged together if we were in the same room for too long. It wasn't a realistic thought, but in my world of sadness, secrets, and lies, it was. I had already lost Keith, so now I would do everything to be my dad's little girl again.

×××

I stared at the book lying on the pillow in my lap. The letters could have been Chinese letters because I couldn't understand them anyway. I just thought about mine and Keith's conversation from the day before. I regretted it so hard that I had even asked him about the girl he had to share a space with. I should have just pretended I didn't care at all, like it was just normal that he would share a house with a girl he didn't know, but every emotion in my body became hard to control, and I could feel emotions I had never felt before flying around my heart. I couldn't even name them or differentiate them. It just felt like some sort of creature had started to chew inside of me, on every organ, and wanted to break free.

Of all of the feelings, I could differentiate two, though: two feelings I often felt with Keith: curiosity and horniness. I want to look through that package. I wanted to see what he wanted us to explore. He had thought about us when he ordered it. Because he wanted to be with me.

I tried to continue to read in my book about 1800th-century English but let it glide down from the pillow in disinterest. I needed to get the package. Keith had said I should do that, so carefully I sneaked down the hallway to Jason's room and opened the door slowly. Mom had cleaned it since Keith had left it, made the bed with new sheets, and left the few items Keith had forgotten on the dresser (a pair of black socks, AirPods, and a pack of cigarettes), but there wasn't a box on the bed as I had suspected. I walked into the room and looked around confused until I saw the box behind the dresser opened. The panic attacked me quickly, and I almost ran up to the box that really was opened. It was obvious what had happened; my dad had opened it. My dad had opened the box containing his daughter and best friend's sex toys. A numbness spread over my face and hands while I looked into the box. There was just a fuchsia-colored card in it with the company's logo.

It was quite awful of my father to open the box without permission, and I wondered what he would do with the contents. Did I want to know? I hoped he maybe had taken it hostage to bully his friend, but I couldn't stop other thoughts from coming over me. They were thoughts I hadn't even imagined in my wildest fantasy I would have.

I sneaked back to my room again with even more weird feelings, and the creature became even bigger, eating on my lungs. It was just all too much, and there wasn't anyone else to blame but me who had instigated it by showing my breasts to my dad's best friend.

×××

A week later, when I came home from campus on a late afternoon, I could feel another energy as soon as I came into the hallway. I knew he was back. I didn't even take off my outerwear; instead, I stood with my beating heart, waiting for it to come up through my throat.

They couldn't have heard I had came home, or they didn't care because I could hear both my parents and Keith from the living room. My parents laughed at something while Keith made a sound like he was embarrassed.

“But who is she then? You can trust us to not tell anyone,” said my dad curiously.

“It's over now.” Keith was short in his answer but didn't sound irritated.

“Why? Because of the divorce?” Asked my mom.

“We can say it like this: she was far too young.”

My dad made a weird laugh I hadn't heard before, and it sounded like my mom gave him a hit in the chest.

“How young?” He asked. He sounded excited, like he was the one dating a younger woman.

“Far too young. It's hard being with someone who—”

I stomped into the living room, still in my dirty boots and red coat. Keith sat in the white armchair closest to the entrance door with the back towards me. My parents sat on the matching couch with their faces towards me. Keith turned his face and looked straight at me.

“Hey, hey.” He gave me a small smile and a nod. I didn't have the opportunity to register his feelings.

“Honey!” My dad laughed awkwardly. He probably didn't think I should hear what Keith spoke about, and he gave my mom a pointed look.

“We've already eaten, but I saved you a plate.” My mom jumped up from the couch and approached me. “Take off your outerwear and I can warm it for you. It's schnitzel.”

I nodded a little but looked at my dad and the back of Keith's head. My dad still smirked, amused and proud, at Keith, like he was living through him, and my mom probably let him because they had been married for so long. Little did they know it was their daughter Keith talked about. That he got me to call him daddy and take his cock until I was bleeding. I wondered if my dad would smirk if he knew that.

I ate by myself in the dining room and let “the grown-ups” continue to talk, then I went to my room without saying anything to them. I still couldn't grasp my feelings, and hiding felt like the best option, but couldn’t for long because there was knock on my door just after 30 minutes.

“It's me…” said Keith through the door. I held my breath while I thought about what I would do even if I knew what I wanted, but I didn't know if I was ready.

“Come in.”

I sat under the cover, just dressed in panties and one of my many spaghetti tops. The clock was just 7pm, but it looked like I was ready for bed. Keith opened the door but stood at the threshold, dressed in a plaid flannel shirt and gray sweats. His feet were bare even if our floors were so cold.

“Are you okay?” He asked with care, as he walked into the room slowly. I nodded a little, waiting for him to talk because I had no idea what the creature would do if I opened my mouth.

“Good… Ehm… I'm sorry for talking downstairs… I shouldn't have, but your dad kind of found out I was seeing someone.”

Keith was classy to not tell how my father knew, but I knew all too well, but still I just nodded.

“Can I sit down?” Keith pointed at the bed, and I nodded again. He sat down softly on my floral sheets, and he dragged his hand over a pink velvet pillow. He looked around in my room, and I could guess what he was thinking—that I was just a little girl. He licked his plump lips and moved a bit nervously on the edge of the bed.

“I don't want us to end things like enemies. I don't want you to believe I am an asshole…”

“I know you're not,” I finally got out, and he looked at me with kind green eyes.

“But we must end things.” He added but looked at me in the same way. “You're young, and I don't think you're ready to be with someone so much older than you. I will always have women around because that's what a man of my age life looks like. I'm not a college boy.”

My throat had stopped working again even if I wanted to protest.

“I'm in the middle of a divorce. I worked with many different people, and I will not be by your side all the time, and maybe it's best if I move away from here. I don't want to complicate things for you.”

We looked deep into each other's eyes while I still was quiet. Keith swallowed in discomfort but didn't look away; he probably hoped for an answer, but it never came from me. I just tried to control the thing inside of me.

He patted my knee lightly, like some uncle would do, then he stood up.

“I hope we can be friends…” It was the last thing he said before leaving me alone.

×××

I sat by the breakfast table while my parents and Keith ran around the house in panic; I just buttered my bread unbothered even if I was the one that had created the mess. I looked at Keith standing in the hallway, dragging his hands through his slicked-back hair and threading his fingers together on his head. He wore a dark blue knitted sweater over a white button-up and black jeans and looked really dapper, but now he had messed his hair up so much he looked like he had walked through a storm.

“Are you sure you had it in the bathroom?” asked my mom as she nervously looked up at him. She was probably afraid she had by accident tossed it away—his wedding band.

“Yeah, I had put it next to the soap, then I thought I had put it in my toiletry bag, but it's not there,” said Keith, but he sounded quite unengaged, and it was then I realized he looked straight at me.

I looked down at my toast, spreading the orange marmalade over it so it mixed with the butter. I wouldn't say anything, and I knew Keith wouldn't cause a fight in front of my parents; that would expose everything to them. I heard Keith sigh loudly which turned into an irritated grunt. I didn't need to look to know that he was putting on his outerwear.

“I'm really so, so sorry, Keith. I will continue to search for it. It must be here somewhere.”

“We will find it… But May will not be happy…” Said Keith, trying to cover up his irritation. I looked up when I heard him say his wife's name. I couldn't see him anymore because he was behind the wall, but I could see my parents standing in the hallway, looking towards the entrance door where Keith was.

“She probably understands. You haven't worn it for a long time,” my mom tried to offer some assurance, as she walked closer to my dad, probably to get some support.

“Understand I've replaced my wedding ring? I don't think so. We had decided that we would collect all things of value to put in the safety box until we know how we will share it, and then I’ll come and say I can't find my wedding ring? She will not like it…” Keith sounded stressed, and I could see my parents felt the same thing while they looked at him.

“I think she will understand,” tried my mom again while my dad nodded.

Keith was silent, and even I could understand his annoyance, even if I was the thief. His ring still lay in my toiletry bag, and I would let it lie there for a while. I liked the thought of Keith's wife being really mad at him and him suffering. Even if Keith had let me go really nicely, I was still mad at him, but also, by holding on to that ring, it felt like I had some sort of effect on their divorce and that I wasn't as powerless as I had felt before. It felt like I could cause them to not get along and that Keith would never look at her again. Until I felt I didn't need that power anymore, I would give the ring back, but then and there I liked the power I had too much. Keith left as smoothly and silently as he did most things in life, but I knew he was irritated and that he had started to suspect me as the thief, but I would let him come and try to get it back if he dared.

×××

I hoped he would suspect me. I hoped he would suspect me so hard he felt forced to talk to me. I couldn't say why, but the thought of him being a bit mad at me turned me on even if I had lost him and he might just be angry at me for real. It was like anger was better than not getting any attention from him at all.

I got what I wanted because the next day when I came home, he leaned against the doorframe to the living room, and it looked like he was waiting for me. His hands were pushed down deep in the front pockets of his medium blue jeans, and his feet were bare. He wore just a simple black tee and looked relaxed with his hair messily styled back.

“Hey…” he said, dragging out the word so I understood he wanted to say something. I gave him a look but played nonchalant and took off my boots and my coat. I wore that little pink skirt he had commented on once before, and I could see he gave it a fast look.

“Can we talk? We're alone…” He stood up to his full height and made a lazy nod towards the living room.

“Why?” I asked with some attitude. I wanted to annoy him; I wanted to get some other feeling out of him other than that sweet, collected Keith he showed to the rest of the world.

“I was just wondering about something,” he said, just as nicely, and messed with a cuticle on his thumb.

“Then ask,” I said with a shoulder shrug.

Keith looked at me with big eyes, but they turned annoyed, and he looked away with a sour expression.

“Can we just sit down and talk like two grown-ups?”

“Grown-ups?” I said annoyed. “I thought I was just a little girl! Too young for everything!” I crossed my arms but still stood there, just welcoming a fight.

“For fuck's sake, Jaqueline…” Keith muttered and scratched his forehead. “I was just wondering if you've seen my wedding ring.”

I looked at him sourly, but I could see how he knew I was the one who had taken it, but he wanted me to say it myself, the same way you could teach kids to be ashamed. I felt ashamed when I looked at him because I couldn't really say why I had taken it. It was a childish act, but I didn't want to say to him how childish I actually was.

“I don't know. Maybe you have dropped it?”

“I haven't worn it since Christmas, and you know that too.”

I looked away like I didn't care, still with my arm crossed. Keith sighed but moved closer to me, so close I could smell his scent and needed to curl my neck in a C motion to see him.

“I’ll ask again…” His voice had changed. It was much darker and heavy, and I looked at him with an emotion similar to fear. “Have you seen it?”

He looked at me straight in the eyes, and I couldn't look away. His eyes were mesmerizing, big and hypnotic like the cat in Alice in Wonderland.

“I… I…” I stuttered and felt myself swaying on weak legs. I took a hold of his t-shirt just so I wouldn't fall backwards. I wanted to continue to play cool, but I couldn't, and instead I pushed my cheek against his chest and felt my eyes well up.

“I just want you to be mine...!”

I could both feel and hear Keith take a deep breath, then he laid his hand on the back of my head and patted my hair.

“You're jealous.” He said matter-of-factly. The word caused irritation to grow in my chest, and even if a tear fell, I pouted.

“No.”

“Yes, you are. You're a jealous, silly girl that believes every woman around me is your threat.”

“No…” I said but this time it was a bit shameful. I was jealous. I was jealous of his wife, who got to be his for real. I was jealous of that girl he lived with, who he could have done something with if he wanted to because he hadn't promised me anything. I was just the silly girl he could play silly games with.

Keith pulled me away from him, and with his hands on my shoulders, he looked at me. I stood with my eyes down at the ground so he wouldn't see my tears. If I had looked at him, I would have seen him smirking, amused at me, how he loved to make fun of me.

“Say you're jealous,” he teased, but it made me just start to cry more, and he laughed a little and pulled me against his chest again.

“You're so silly…” He laughed a little but bent down to give me a kiss on the nose. I looked up at him with hope it meant he forgave me.

“But you're my little silly baby.” I smiled carefully because I didn't dare to believe he had forgiven me. Keith laughed sweetly again, then gave me a soft kiss so I would understand we were back on it again.

×××

We sat together on the couch in the living room and looked at the ring between his fingers. I had gotten it for him, but to my surprise, he dragged me down the couch to look at it with him.

“I'm not in love with her. It was a long time ago I was in love with her,” said he and looked up at my face but lowered his eyes at the ring again.

“May?” I asked carefully, even if I knew. I had laid one of my legs over his and sat turned towards him, leaning my head against the back of the couch. Keith sat with spread legs, patting my nylon covered leg with his other hand.

“Yeah. May. We met when I was 25. That's a long time ago now…” He looked at me with a sad little smirk. I knew he looked at me that way because of the age. I was eight when he was 25.

“Got married when we were 28. We're the same age. Almost exactly, actually; her birthday is two days after mine…”

I looked down at my hands. Even if he said he wasn't in love with her, I could feel the emotions behind his words, and the jealousy we had talked about before made itself clear again.

“Our marriage died so slowly… I can't even really say what happened between us; it was just… A natural death?” He laughed a little and laid the ring on the coffee table. He turned to me, and when I looked up, I met his kind eyes and a bit of a worried smile.

“You okay?”

He dragged a hand over my thigh soothingly, and I faked a smile. I still felt jealous even if he said he didn't have feelings for her. Keith smiled crookedly and took my hand in his and kissed the inside of my wrist a couple of times. I looked at him with soft eyes and moved closer and closer to him so I could touch his lips with mine and feel my chest pressed up against his.

“I want you to be mine…” I whispered and looked down to see the part of him I knew I had some power over. I laid my hand over his belt, ready to open the thick leather, but he stopped me and laid his hand over mine.

“I know what you want, honey… I get that, but… If she finds out… Ehm… ” He dragged his other hand through his hair, stressed.

“I know about your money.”

I understood why he had such problems ending his sentence because he tried to keep his wealth a secret, but I already knew, so it felt easier for both him and me to just say I knew. “I know about your company and all that.”

Keith gave me a surprised look that transformed to an uncomfortable grimace. He lowered his eyes but nodded a little.

“Yeah… Yeah… She wants money. She would gladly see me cheat so she could get some of my family's money.” He looked up at me and moved closer to me.

“I can't let that happen because it was me who said to my family she and I would have a successful marriage. That we didn't need a prenup. And it's not my money. It's ours, my family's and… Fuck, I can't fuck this up, honey. However much I would like to be with you, I can't fuck this up.”

I understood what he meant but still had a hard time accepting it, so instead I got stuck sitting quietly and looking out over the room. Keith didn't say anything either for a long time until he stretched his arms like it was time for something else.

“Do you have any assignments I should look at?

I turned my eyes to him. At first, I couldn't understand what he was saying but nodded slowly when I finally did and thought about my schoolwork.

“Should I look at it?” He asked, patting my knee carefully. I nodded again and stood up as if I was in a trancelike state. I had too many thoughts, so it felt like it took longer for my brain to process my environment. I started to walk slowly towards the stairs to get my laptop in my room but turned around when my brain finally found what I had been wanting to ask.

“So it's over between us now?”

Keith looked up at me and dragged his hands over his jean-clad thighs.

“Do you want that?”

I gave him a strange look because I couldn't understand why he asked me that.

“I mean…” Keith stood up and approached me closely. It felt like I had forgotten how tall he actually was because I felt so small with him in front of me.

“I can't have a relationship with you, and I can't do anything about how my life looks… But of course I would want us to have our thing…” He smiled carefully and took my hand so he could play with my fingers. “The question is, do you want that? I understand if you feel that isn't fair…”

His eyes were big and full of emotions, and even if I knew the answer, I stood quietly and looked him deep in the eyes. He pulled me closer to his body and laid my hands on his chest.

“Hmm?” He said it like it was a real question, and it made me smile.

“That's okay… I want to—” I searched for the right word but couldn't find it, so in the stress of just talking, it didn't come out as I wanted.

“I want to love and sex with you.”

Keith looked amused when my cheeks grew redder and redder.

“I understand what you mean,” he said with a laugh, and then he leaned down and kissed me, healing everything that had happened before and soothing my embarrassment.

×××

The laptop stood in front of us on the coffee table with my assignment open, but Keith and I were busy making out. He pushed my hand against his crotch and dragged it over his erection harshly. When I started to do it by myself, he pushed me against the back of the couch with my legs up so he could drag his hand over my sex that was concealed under cotton panties and tights. I wished to have him closer but didn't dare to touch him more than over the jeans. Keith was not the shy one, though, and I could feel how his fingers worked between my legs. I thought he tried to just make it nice for me, but then he took a break from our kisses, looked me straight in the eyes, and then with a loud sound, he tore a big hole in the crotch of my tights. My eyes widened to double the size, and Keith smirked evilly while his fingers crept in the hole, moving my white panties to the side.

“Daddy just needs to be a bit closer, baby girl…” He kissed my shoulder while his fingertips dragged through my arousal that increased at every touch. I looked down at his fingers touching me. When he noticed, he was quick to spread me open so I could see my own wetness. Slowly, he pushed in the tip of his middle finger inside me and got me to make a low moan. After just a drag of one finger, he instead pushed three in me. It hurt, causing me to move involuntarily, but he stopped me from moving more.

“Daddy, just needs to stretch it out a bit so you can handle his cock. Your pussy is too tight for me…” he said with a smirk, holding his fingers inside of me. I breathed deeply, my feelings going wild but I never got the chance to answer because both of us heard the front door open.

×××

“Hey?” My mom looked at us in the living room. I had pulled down my skirt, and Keith pulled the laptop onto his lap, but we still sat as close together. She looked at us confused, seeing my leg lying over one of his and my chest pressed against his arm. I just smiled to make it seem normal. Keith had just given her a quick smile before he continued to look through my assignment. He tried to make it seem like he was busy.

“He helps me with the language,” I said to my mom and smiled sweetly, but she didn't smile back. She just looked at us intensely for a long time.

“I think we need to talk, honey.”

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