#that tape is staring at me in my cart right now.

[mroddmod]

me fighting off the consuming urge to buy the cassette of every album i can possibly think of

[bloodibambiidoll]

Spider Lily

(Steve Harrington x Goth!Fem!Reader)

Summary: You can’t stand Steve Harrington, you didn’t like him in highschool during his “King Steve” days and you don’t like him now. But even though you deny it, even to yourself, there’s always been something about him that made your heart beat speed up. When you’re stuck closing with him one night at Family Video… things finally boil over. Wk:4.3k

Warnings: Sliggght King Steve behavior, he’s not as much of an asshole but he is a bit of a player, enemies to (kinda?) lovers, unprotected sex, spanking, a lil bit of choking (ofc, it’s me), hair pulling, dirty talk (a lil bit of taunting), Soulmate AU, the end is kinda angsty but there will be a part 2. 18+MINDI!!

A/N: It’s been a minute since I had the drive to sit down a finish something so quickly, but I felt very inspired by this idea and hopefully it’s gonna help my writers block. I have 2 other bigger stories l’m working on but this came to me and I had to get it out. Shout out to my bbs @reidsbtch @babygorewhore & @bimbobaggins69 for hyping me up on this one. Divider used is by @firefly-graphics.🖤

You roll your eyes as you watch Steve push the cart filled with video tapes down one of the isles of Family Video. Today was one of the unfortunate days that Robin was off and you were stuck closing alone with him. Robin often served as a buffer between the two of you, but when left alone you butted heads constantly. Bickering over who had to do inventory, who was going to count the till, whose turn it was to answer the phone when it rings. It was never ending scoffs and glares, but you always put on a show for the customers, acting civil whenever the store wasn’t empty.

You didn’t hate Steve, but you just couldn’t stand him. He walked around with this aura of arrogance about him, always flirting with girls that came in, always asking them on dates. They almost always said yes, but on multiple occasions you’ve watched those same girls come back a week later, pissed or crying because he hadn’t called. Robin insisted that he “changed” since highschool. Which you couldn’t deny that in some ways he had, but just because he isn’t as big of an asshole now, doesn’t mean he wasn’t still a player. It seemed like he couldn’t let that part of being “King Steve” go.

Steve didn’t hate you, but the fact that you couldn’t stand him drove him crazy. He gets it, he wasn’t exactly the nicest to you in highschool. He tried to apologize. Multiple times. But you shut him down every time. You were constantly throwing passive aggressive comments his way, rolling your eyes, sometimes you gag when he’s asking girls out right in front of them. So he just started giving you the cold shoulder, glaring and scoffing back, immaturely sticking his tongue out at you. He even pulled your hair a few times. To you it felt like he was proving you right, that he really hadn’t changed. But for him, he kind of felt like a school boy with a crush on a girl that couldn’t stand him.

“I can feel you staring, you know.” Steve had stopped the cart in the middle of the horror aisle, he restocked the tapes as he spoke, not even turning to look at you.

“I’m not staring at you Harrington, keep fucking dreaming.” You scoff, throwing a glare his way before turning your back to him, shoving a tape into the VCR and hitting rewind.

“Yeeeaah suuure, your eyes were practically burning a hole in the side of my head.” He chuckled, turning his head to glance at you. Your back was turned to him, the green Family Video vest you both had to wear obstructing his view from the cropped band tee you were wearing underneath it.

He wasn’t exactly sure when his fascination with you started, but he knows it was much longer than he would probably even admit to himself. He was always drawn to you, in a way. Even if he always had the wrong way of showing it. He felt awful about the things he and his friends said to you growing up, calling you a “witch” and knocking your lunch tray out of your hands. One time he just stood by while Carol ripped the book he had seen you reading all week to streads right in front of you. Throwing the ripped pages in your face. Everybody laughed, but Steve didn’t. Not that time. Not when usually you laughed them off, or gave them shit right back, but he watched the tears well in your eyes and the way your lip trembled. When you ran off with those tears starting to pour down your cheeks, part of him wanted to follow you.

“I’m gonna turn the sign off and lock the door, you wanna count the till? I’ll finish up the go backs.”

He didn’t wait for you to answer, knowing it would be some kind of sassy remark. He unhooked his set of keys from his belt loop, pulling the string on the sign to click it off and locking the door. You look over your shoulder at him, you hate how your eyes linger on the way his shoulders look in that dumb polo and how his hands hold the keys. No matter how much you dislike him you can’t deny that he’s gorgeous. He’s not normally your type, but something about Steve has always been attractive to you. And you hate it. It makes him even more unbearable to you.

You start counting the till and you’re midway through the quarters when you hear a loud crash, causing you to jump and drop them all over the ground. Your head whips to the side, your eyes landing on Steve who is picking up the cart he knocked over in the middle of the aisle, most of the tapes were on the floor and it knocked into one of the shelves, causing some of the ones there to drop to the ground as well.

“Steve, what the fuck! That scared the shit out of me!” You snapped at him as you got down on the ground to pick up the fallen quarters.

“It scared the shit out of you? It scared the shit out of me! It almost fell on my god damn foot!” Steve scoffs as he starts to pick up the tapes. Were you seriously mad at him right now?

He hears the sound of your heavy black boots before he sees you, your shadow casting over him in his crouched position. He looks up at you and almost chokes. Your long black velvet skirt accentuates your curves perfectly, a slit up to your thigh showing off a sliver of skin, your cropped tee that you definitely cut yourself is loose enough that he can see up it slightly, getting a view of slight under boob… you weren’t wearing a bra. The bright fluorescent family video lights shine above you and from this angle it makes you look like an angel dressed in black. Your combat clad booted foot taps on the ground as you cross your arms, glaring down at him.

“What the hell happened? You seriously knocked the cart over?” Your voice was teasing, your lips turned up into a smirk.

“That rug had a folded corner and the wheel got caught, I don’t know why you’re acting like I threw it on the ground or something.” Steve rolled his eyes for what felt like the hundredth time that day, standing up to put the tapes back on the shelf. He rests his hands on his hips, his lips set into a hard line as he glares at you. “What is your problem with me, truly?”

“Harrington, you’re joking right?” You laughed, straight up laughed in his face.

“Umm, no? Why the fuck would I be joking? I seriously have tried to be nice to you but no matter what I do you give me a fucking attitude.”

“Oh excuse me, King Steve!! How dare I respect royalty.” You throw your hands up in mock surrender, your eyes widen but that damn smirk doesn’t falter.

“Oh don’t fucking start with that again! You know that’s not who I am anymore, I’ve told you I’m sorry in every way I can possibly think of! I’m sorry I was a fucking dick! But I’m different now! You just - you bring out this side of me. You’re so fucking frustrating!” He runs his hands through his chestnut locks before dragging them down his face, letting out a deep sigh.

“If you’re soooo different why are there different girls coming in here every week whining because you didn’t call them back? Kind of sounds like a dick fucking move to me.”

“Why do you care? You’re constantly bringing that up. Like yeah Robin gives me shit about it but she’s just fucking with me, you’re actually mad. Are you… jealous?”

“Why the fuck would I be jealous Steve? I don’t even fucking like you as a person let alone am I romantically interested in you!!” You were pissed now, jealous? He has some fucking audacity to even think that, but to say it out loud?

“I don’t know, you seem kinda jealous to me. You’re always giving the girls I ask out dirty looks, with this pout on your lips. Also that gagging thing you do, I really would chalk it up to you actually thinking it’s gross but when Stacy came in demanding answers about why I didn’t call… you still glared, but you had this smirk on your lips, instead of a pout…” He takes a few steps closer, only leaving a foot between you. The air feels tense… but in a way it never has before.

“Oh my god, you are so fucking arrogant, Steve Harrington! You do realize not every single girl wants to fall at your feet, right? Grow up! We aren’t in highschool anymore!” You’re talking with your hands, your boot stomping against the ground as you yell at him.

“If we aren’t in highschool anymore than why can't you let this go!? You know I don’t really think that right? There was one girl I never thought wanted me… until right now.” He bites his lip, his eyes wandering your form. He takes a step closer to you so you’re chest to chest, his face is inches from yours and his hazel eyes are staring daggers into yours. But he notices you don’t back away, or push him off, you just glare right back.

“If you’re talking about me, you couldn’t be further off. I haven’t, won’t, and will never want you. You’re a fucking ass.” Your black manicured finger pokes at his chest and he grabs your smaller hand in his large one, holding it in place on his chest.

“Then why aren’t you moving?” You’ve never heard his voice this low and husky and it sent a shiver down your spine against your will.

“I-“ you try to come up with a reason, you really do, but you don’t know why you aren't moving, you just know you don’t want to. No matter how much your mind tries to protest, your body betrays you.

“You what? You don’t have an answer because you know it’s true… I can feel you shaking, baby.” The hand that isn’t holding yours comes up to cup your face, his thumb running over your lips. Baby? Fuck. You shouldn’t love that as much as you do. But right now you feel like you’d do anything to hear him say it again.

“Fuck it.”

You thread your fingers into his hair, pulling his lips against your own into a harsh kiss. You hate to admit that you’ve thought about kissing him before. But in your mind it was always this aggressive anger fueled thing and even though you pulled him into the kiss intending to do just that, the minute your lips touched it became tender. His lips were so soft, and he somehow tasted so sweet, every single nerve in your body felt like it was lit up. You suddenly understood all those cheesy romance movies that talked about “fireworks” when the characters finally kiss. It was the kind of kiss they describe when they teach you about soulmate bounds in school. But Steve couldn’t be your soulmate, could he? There’s no way. You push the thought from your mind for now, letting your body melt into his kiss.

His tongue swipes over your bottom lip and the kiss quickly becomes heated, his hands coming down to grab your hips harshly and yours pulling at his hair. You both moan into the kiss, your bodies pressed closely together, your thighs clenched and his cock starts to harden in his already tight jeans. Your body feels like it’s on fire everywhere he’s touching, those fireworks continuing to go off under your skin. His leg slides between your thighs and you subconsciously grind down on it. Your body searching for any sort of friction.

“Fuck. Stock room. Now.” Steve pulls back from the kiss, his eyes are filled with lust and his breathing is heavy. He uses his grip on your hips to spin you around, pulling your back against his chest and placing a kiss on your neck. “You want that pretty girl? Want me to fuck you?”

You don’t respond with words, you just pull away from him and start walking towards the back, not even sparing him a glance.

As soon as the stockroom door is shut, Steve is on you, harshly grabbing your hips to pull you against him, his mouth feverishly attacking yours. This kiss is different from the first, it’s desperate, hungry. Your arms loop around his shoulders, your hands traveling to the hairs at the nape of his neck and pulling. He moans into the kiss, his tongue exploring every inch of your mouth, almost like he’s trying to memorize it.

“Fuck, Steve. I need you.”

You break the kiss, looking up at him with lust filled eyes. He turns you, pushing your back up against one of the shorter shelves. He pushes your vest off, one of his hands traveling up your cropped shirt, finding you braless just like he thought he would. He gropes your tit, tweaking your sensitive nipple before moving onto the other one. His lips attack your neck and you’re sure there will be a mark or two you'd have to explain to Robin when you saw her. But right now you didn’t care. You need him everywhere.

“Yeah? You need me now? I thought you couldn’t stand me?”

Steve looked at you with a devilish smirk, his unoccupied hand finding the slit in your skirt, grazing over your upper thigh before traveling behind you to grab a handful of your ass. He ruts against you and you can feel his hard cock through his jeans. You palm him, causing him to groan into your throat, his breath sending tingles down your spine.

“I still can’t stand you Harrington, but right now, I need you to fuck me like you hate me.” You grab him through his jeans, moving your hand up and down his shaft to the best of your ability with the burrier in the way.

“Shit. Fuck. Take this the fuck off then.”

His fingers hook in the waistband of your skirt, the velvet feels soft on his skin and for a fleeting moment he imagines how it might feel against his cheek while he laid in your lap, your fingers in his hair in a more gentle way. He pushes the thought from his mind, giving you a questioning glance, you nod and he immediately pushes your skirt down your hips. It pools around your boots on the floor. He kneels down to pull it from your feet entirely, tossing it to the side.

He takes a moment to admire you. Your ass pressed up against the shelf, your shirt is askew, hanging off your shoulder where you cut the collar to make it more low cut, the bright red lacy thong you’re wearing sits perfectly on your curves, and those god damn platform boots that drive him crazy. Your hairs a bit disheveled and your black painted lips are kiss swollen, some of your shiny black lipgloss smeared around your mouth. You’re so frustratingly beautiful, he just wants to eat you alive. You lean down to take your boots off but Steve stops you, grabbing your wrist to pull you back into a standing position.

“Keep them on” he practically growls at you, sending heat rushing through your whole body. Who would’ve thought King Steve would want to fuck a girl in giant goth boots? His large hands grab you roughly flipping you over so your hips are pressed up against the waist high shelf. He pushes your back down so you're bent over it. Leaving a harsh smack on your ass. “Look at this pretty little ass, bet your pussy is just as pretty, huh?”

His fingers run up your clothed slit, looping in the strings of your panties before pushing them down to your ankles. You hear him taking his shirt off and you peer over your shoulder to catch a glimpse of his bare chest. You hadn’t seen him shirtless since highschool and he had definitely matured. His chest now covered in a patch of dark hair, his shoulders broader, his stomach is a little less toned since he doesn’t play sports anymore but it’s honestly sexier that way to you. A moan leaves your lips when his fingers return to your core, gathering up the wetness between your lips, he brings his slick fingers to your clit, circling it.

“Steeeveee, stop fucking teasing me and do som-“ you’re cut off by a harsh smack on your ass, causing you to jolt forward and moan.

“Quit with the fucking attitude or I’m not giving you shit, I’ll walk out of here right now.” Two more smacks land on your opposite ass cheek before two large fingers are being shoved knuckle deep into your pussy. You’re so wet they slide right in. He immediately finds your sweet spot, rubbing the pads of his fingers against it before thrusting his fingers in and out of you roughly. “You’re awfully wet for someone who can’t stand me baby, maybe you don’t like me, but your pussy does.”

“Fuck - fuck Steve, your fi - fingers are so fucking good.” Your eyes roll back, your hips pushing against his hand on their own accord. No one had ever gotten you so close to the edge this fast, but Steve was making you crumble in mere minutes, on just his thick fingers alone. His thumb comes down to rub quick circles on your clit and you think that’s it, you feel yourself about to fall over the edge when suddenly he pulls his fingers out, leaving you feeling empty. “What the fuck! I was about to cum you asshole!!”

“I thought you wanted me to fuck you like I hate you? Only girls I like get to cum, unless they beg for it.” You hear his belt buckle clinking behind you, and god do you wish you could see his cock right now. It felt so big through his jeans and you know it has to be beautiful. Even though you can’t see it you feel him run his tip through your dripping folds. “I’m gonna fuck you so good, you’ll be begging before you know it. I know you’re gonna say some shit like ‘keep dreaming, Harrington’ but I don’t wanna hear it. I just wanna hear you beg for me.”

You’re prepared to give him a snide come back but it’s erased from your mind when you feel the head of his cock start to slide inside you. He pushes it in and out a few times and for a second you think he’s gonna go slow, you’re about to complain but you’re cut off by the moan that leaves your lips when he shoves his cock halfway inside you in one thrust. He’s big, but the stretch feels so fucking good and you’re so wet that he’s sliding so perfectly inside you. You want to feel all of him, you push your hips back so his cock slides fully inside you. He lets you bounce back against him a few times before he’s grabbing your hips, fucking into you at a brutal pace.

“Oh shit, Steve!” You moan loudly, your hands gripping onto the shelf for purchase as he thrusts into you over and over again. You’re sure your hips will be bruised, from not only the shelf digging into them but also the hard grasp he has on you. The thought of being marked up by him stirs something inside you that you try not to dwell on.

“This pussy feels so fucking good, you’re gripping me so good baby, so fucking tight. Like it was made for me.”

His hand comes up to grab onto your hair, pulling your head until your back is flushed against his chest. The new angle has him hitting deeper than before, his cock hitting your sweet spot over and over again. The hand not in your hair grabs onto your tits harshly, pulling and pinching your nipples as he continues his brutal pace. You’re a moaning mess, drool starting to drip down your chin, and you’re already so close to cumming it’s almost embarrassing.

“Fuuuuck oh my - oh my fucking godddd.” Your eyes roll back as Steve lets go of the grip on your hair, quickly grabbing you by the throat before you can fall forward. His other hand reaches down to your clit, rubbing fast circles on it.

“You’re close already, huh? I can feel it, I can feel your pussy squeezing my cock. You wanna cum? Beg. Beg me to cum, or I’ll stop fucking you.” He growls in your ear, never letting up on his thrusts.

“No - I - I’m - fuck! Just let me cum, don’t be a fucking dick Steve!!” His pace slows, he shoves his cock deep inside you and then stops moving entirely. One hand is still around your throat and the other is pressing down on your clit but no longer moving.

“I said beg. I’ll pull out and jerk off right here in front of you. Now be a good girl and beg me to cum.”

“God fucking damn it. Steve! Fucking please? Please let me cum? Keep fucking me please? Just wanna cum on your big cock! I can’t take it anymore! Please make me cum!” You didn’t want it to come out that whiny, but once you started begging it was like you couldn’t stop. You need him to keep fucking you.

“Good fucking girl, that wasn’t so hard was it?” He releases his grip on your throat pushing on your back so your top half is flat against the shelf again. He grips your hips harshly as he resumes fucking into you harder and faster than before. “This is all you needed to ditch that attitude, huh? Needed to be fucked so good? Put in your place?”

“Yes - yeah - fuuuckkkk feels so fucking good I -“

His fingers find your clit again and that’s it for you. Your orgasm crashes over you like a flood. It racks through your entire body, making you see stars. The feeling of your walls tightening around his cock and the sounds you’re making as your high washes over you sends Steve over the edge too. He cums hard, his cock nestled deep inside you as he fills you.

“Shit. Fuck.” Steve pants, pulling out of you and stepping back a few inches so he can watch his cum drip from your pussy. “Wish I could keep you like this, all fucked out and dripping with my cum. Too cock drunk to give me an attitude.”

You feel his fingers caress your overly sensitive lips, gathering the cum that dripped out, he shoves his fingers inside you before leaning down to pull your panties back up your legs.

“Now you have to go home stuffed full of me, when you take your panties off you won’t be able to help but think of me.” You can hear the smirk in his voice and it makes you roll your eyes. You turn around to face him, giving him a death glare. “Look at me like that all you want, I’m not going to forget you were begging me to cum less than five minutes ago.”

“Oh my god, you’re so annoying.” You roll your eyes again, but this time when you say it you laugh, and there’s a glimmer in your eyes that’s still teasing, but lighter. It gives Steve hope.

“Whaaateeever you say, baby.”

He smirks at you, sending you a wink before turning around to find his discarded shirt. You take a moment to admire his back. Broad and covered in moles that you want to connect with your fingers, maybe even your lips. His jeans fit so perfectly on his ass, and his shoulders… wait. You pause, your mouth dropping open as you catch sight of his shoulder. You almost think your mind is playing tricks on you, you wish it was. But there clear as day on his left upper shoulder are two simple red spider lilies. A mark that matches the one on your ribs exactly. Steve Harrington, King Steve, the bane of your existence… was your soulmate.

This could not be happening. No way. Absolutely not. You grab your skirt, pulling it on in a frenzy. Steve turns to look at you right as you are pulling up the zipper with a panicked look on your face.

“Hey, it’s okay, are you okay? I’m sorry for teasing you I-“

“I gotta go. I - uh - I just gotta go. I’m sorry.”

You can’t even think straight, you can’t be near him right now. You need to think and the smell of him and the way his hands feel on your forearms is clouding your thoughts and you just need to go. You spare him a sad glance before pulling your arms from his grasp. You grab your bag from under the counter and run out of the building towards your car. You slam the door closed once you’re inside, your breathing is labored and your mind feels like someone put it in a blender. You shove the keys in the ignition, regretting your decision to peak back at the building before pulling out. Steve was standing in the front window, a confused look on his face as he watched you pull away. He was beautiful, and frustrating, and he was your goddamn soulmate. Fuck.

[ckret2]

I've been really looking forward to posting this chapter. It's got it all: angst, comedy, meaty plot progression, banter, Bill and Ford screaming at each other, Stan getting an MVP moment, Soos being Soos, and a grappling hook. And this:

It's admittedly harder to take Bill's stuck-in-a-human-body grief seriously when he's wearing a pony toga and goofy bug wing face paint.

Anyway here's chapter 4, and here's the masterpost. 8/5/2024 edited for TBOB compatibility!

####

The car had been on the road for several tense minutes before Bill announced his return to consciousness by startling upright, attempting to shout through his gag, looking around wildly, and then kicking Stan's butt through the back of the front bench.

"Hey. Hey! Easy!" Stan turned around to swat at Bill. Bill responded by headbutting his hand.

Trying to ignore Bill and keep his eyes on the road, Ford said, "Soos?"

"You got it." Soos leaned to the right, gently pinning Bill against the door.

Bill grunted, squirmed mightily against his fate, kicked the front bench a couple more times for good measure, and then started rubbing his face against the car door handle.

"Give it a rest," Stan said. "There's no way you're jumping out of a moving car. You're completely tied up and you've got a seatbelt on."

"Safety first," Soos said.

"Plus, the handle on that door sticks."

Bill gave them both a murderous glare, shot another at Ford just because, and resumed rubbing his face on the door handle.

It took a couple minutes for him to use the handle to peel the duct tape off his mouth. He spat half a wet sock at the back of Stan's head. "Where are we—Hey! Hey! Look at me! Where are we going?!"

Gaze never wavering from the road, Ford said, "You don't need to know."

"All that matters is you're not coming back," Stan said. "You're gonna stay with some old friends of mine until we figure out how to deal with you. Real professionals. Not even you could find a way out of this."

"There's nobody to manipulate when nobody is listening to you," Ford said.

Soos, ever helpful, threw in, "Stan hasn't really told us much about these dudes? But I've been getting some 'prisoner pit in a serial killer's basement' vibes off of how he's talking about it."

The rage quickly drained from Bill's face, leaving behind a stricken look. "It's not that golf cart chop shop, is it?"

"What?! How did you kn—" Stan whipped around to gape at Bill, then stared at Ford. "How did he—?!"

"He has eyes everywhere," Ford said resignedly. "I'm sure once he got his claws into me, he started looking into my family's lives."

Soos considered this, nudged Bill, and said, "Hey. What kinda creepy stuff do you know about me?"

Bill didn't answer. He was staring blankly at the back of the front bench. Voice oddly flat, he said, "So. You leave me with a bunch of professional criminals. What's your plan then, smart guy."

"I don't know yet," Ford said. "And that's exactly why we're leaving you with people who can keep you contained—andkeep your puppet alive, whether you like it or not. All they need to do is buy us time until we find a way to extract you from your puppet and destroy you for good."

"And what if you can't 'extract' me."

The car was silent. Finally, Ford said, "Then whatever poor woman you've taken over has already lost her life. Destroying you and her body would be a mercy killing." Stan nodded sharply.

Bill slumped back in his seat. He looked out the window at the dark trees passing by.

The car's headlights swept over a sign reading "Now leaving Gravity Falls."

Bill choked on his breath. His gaze whipped forward, staring through the windshield, eyes wide. "Whoa-whoa-whoa wait wait stop STOP STOP! WATCH OUT!"

Ford slammed the breaks.

"What'd we hit?" Stan leaned over the dash, squinting into the dark. "After you insisted you're a better driver than me—"

"I didn't hit anything—there's nothing in the road—"

Hysterically, Bill demanded, "Are you trying to kill me?!"

Which was such a fantastically stupid question that the whole car turned to stare at him. He was wheezing on the verge of hyperventilation, pressed as far back into the car seat as he could get, feet raised and braced against the back of the front bench, face contorted in exaggerated fear.

Trying to sound irritated to avoid sounding rattled, Ford said, "What the devil is it?"

"Are you crazy?" Bill snapped. "You almost drove straight through the bubble!"

Soos and the Pines all looked forward. There was nothing but the dark road beyond their car. Ford gave Bill a wary look. "The what?"

"The—the bubble! The weirdness barrier around this stupid town's Attractor Zone! You can't see it, can you." Bill jutted his chin forward, gesturing out the windshield. "Well whether you see it or not, it's right there!"

Stan shrugged. "So?"

"SO?!" Bill's voice cracked. "So whaddaya think happens to me if I hit a weirdness barrier in a moving car?!"

Stan considered that a moment. "I dunno... That sounds more like your problem than our problem."

"Hey, it's your upholstery, buddy! But if YOU wanna see what happens when you hit a deer and it teleports inside the car—"

Stan snuck a foot over to the driver's side footwell and pressed the gas, making the engine rev. Bill flinched and yipped like a threatened chihuahua. Stan laughed.

Ford was staring hard at Bill. "The weirdness barrier only exists on the physical plane—it shouldn't affect you in the mindscape. And if you're possessing a perfectly normal human body, it wouldn't be impacted, either. It would only affect you if... you have physical form?" He scrutinized Bill's face—not his alien pupils, but everything else, taking in his facial features, looking for something familiar. The shape of his eyes, the brilliant gold of his hair that almost seemed to glow in the dark car, the way his narrow shoulders and wide hips gave him a distinctly triangular silhouette. "You're... not possessing someone, are you?"

Bill's breath hitched.

Stan looked between the two of them. "You mean that's just him? He's a human now?" He gestured dismissively at Bill. "Why shouldn't we hit the barrier, then. Take care of him now. I oughta get the ol' Diablo reupholstered, anyway."

"Oh! Oh! So that's how you want to play!" Bill let out a shrill laugh. "Fine, be like that! Do it—if you're sooo sure it won't just set me free! Do you like the sound of that? Wanna find out whether blowing up this flesh prison will kill me or unleash me?" He leaned into Stan's face, baring his teeth, smiling viciously. "Go on, tough guy—think you can get me with another lucky sucker punch?"

Stan scowled—but instead of rising to the bait, he gave Bill a hard, considering look. "What's your game?"

"Ha! I'm playing games an idiot like you couldn't even imagine—"

On Stan's behalf, Ford tapped the gas, nudging the car forward a few inches.

Bill shrieked. "What's wrong with you, you maniac?!" Over Stan's guffaws and Ford's chuckle, Bill snapped, "I've had it!" The rear door swung open. Bill tumbled out onto the road.

"Hey!" Soos scrambled after him, but by the time he was out of his seatbelt, Bill was on his feet and running.

He was running very badly. He'd somehow managed to free his wrists and ankles—his ankles were raw and bloody and his handcuffs, still locked, lay innocently in the back seat—but his elbows were still chained to his sides and his knees were tied together. Stan jumped out of the car, saw Bill trip and sprawl on the asphalt less than twenty feet away, and laughed so hard he needed to lean on the car for balance.

Ford caught up just after Soos tackled Bill. "Well! There. Here you are." Ford's fists were trembling. "You couldn't have thought you'd escape, Bill. What was the point of that—that ridiculous demonstration!"

Bill's cheek was pressed to the ground so hard that he had to squeeze one eye shut; but it didn't stop him from giving Ford a smarmy smirk. "To be annoying," he said. "For you. Personally and individually."

"Fffp— For me?! Why? To what end, Bill?!" Ford knew Bill just wanted to see him angry. And it worked. "Of all the places in the world you could have gone, why are you back here! What could you possibly get out of harassing us again! After all you've done to us already!"

"What." The change on Bill's face was instantaneous. "After... what I... have done to you? WHAT I'VE DONE TO YOU?!"

His body shook with the violence of his screams, threatening to throw Soos off. "I HAVEN'T DONE ANYTHING TO ANY OF YOU! Look at you all, you hale and hearty little animals, with all your dwindling decades left to you—what about ME?!"

He jammed a fist in Soos's gut to knock him off and lunged for Ford, clawing at his ankle and coat hem like a zombie reaching from the grave. Ford stumbled back, tripped over Bill's hand, and fell hard on the asphalt. Bill wrenched an arm free from the chains around his chest with a sick bony CRACK and crawled on top of Ford.  "I was perfect! I was a god-king! I'm the most sublime thing your universe has ever seen! What am I now?!" Bill's bound knees dug into Ford's abdomen, his clawed fingers reached for his face. "MEAT! I'm MEAT, Stanford! I'm a greasy trash bag of raw leather filled with meat and bile! My body is rotting off its bones as we SPEAK, in a few years I'll be dust! AND YOU WANT TO TALK ABOUT WHAT I 'TOOK' FROM YOU?!"

His fingers closed around Ford's throat. "What did you lose! TELL ME what you lost! I gave you EVERYTHING you ever wanted—knowledge, magic, validation, INFINITE worlds to explore! I offered you more! I offered you fame and fortune! Immortality! Divinity! So WHAT! DID! YOU! LOSE!" He punctuated each word with a furious shake. He was frothing with rage, choking on his rage, so furious he was nearly sobbing. "And do you REALLY THINK it comes CLOSE to what I'VE been through?! To the eternity you STOLE FROM ME?! You KILLED me today, Stanford! I DIED TODAY—"

A grappling hook whistled between their faces, nearly hitting Bill's nose, smashing into the bark of a tree. Bill froze, eyes wide, the taut wire inches in front of his mouth, staring down at Ford. And then he let go. He didn't resist when Stan dragged him off, or when Stan and Soos wrapped their arms around him in case he lunged for Ford again. His knees briefly buckled before he got his feet under him again.

Ford stared up at Bill, rubbing his throat.

He'd seen Bill angry enough to kill—yet he'd never seen Bill angry like that before. Bill's anger was always the petty tantrum of an entitled child who had been denied something he thought he deserved. This was different.

This wasn't just anger; it was grief. Bill was grieving himself.

"This... really is you, isn't it?"

Bill's jaw tightened.

"Great Uncle Ford!" Dipper dropped to a knee beside Ford, grabbing his shoulder. "Are you okay?!"

"I'm fine, Dip—Dipper?" Ford stared at him, and turned to look at Mabel and the two bikes further up the road. "What are you two doing out here?"

"Following to make sure Bill doesn't try anything?" Dipper said. "Like he just did?"

Stan said, "Whoa, kids, it's way too dangerous f—aw, forget it. Just how the heck did you find us?" (He'd handed Bill over to Soos, learning nothing from the lessons of the last few minutes; but Bill didn't make another move to escape. He leaned against Soos for physical support, shoulders slumped, his whole face sagging with exhaustion.)

Dipper said, "We figured you wouldn't let us come, so Mabel bugged the car after dinner."

"She what?"

"I poked a hole in a bag of glitter and taped it under your bumper!" Mabel pointed at the sparkly red trail leading along the road to the car. She was trying to pull her grappling hook out of the tree. "Hey, Grunkle Ford! We saved your life twice in one day! I think you owe us a pizza or something."

Dipper nodded seriously. "Definitely."

Ford rubbed his neck. "I don't think he was even trying to kill me. He was just..." Ford trailed off, staring after Bill. Out of that mad monologue of historical revisionism, the part that echoed in Ford's head was the last words. I died today. It still felt that fresh to Bill? Where had he been the past year—how did time move there?

Mabel frowned. "Aw, c'mon, Grunkle Ford. Lemme have this."

He dragged his gaze from Bill and laughed, ruffling her hair. "All right, all right. I owe you two a pizza."

"Yes!"

"No wonder you slipped these off," Soos muttered, holding the handcuffs in one hand and one of Bill's hands in the other. "You have delicate little baby hands. I bet it's really easy for you to get things out of jars."

"Sure." Bill sighed listlessly. "But it makes playing the piano a pain."

Soos more tightly handcuffed Bill's delicate little baby hands in his lap, considered how best to keep him from running off again, and finally wrapped an arm around Bill's shoulders. "There. Buddy system!"

Bill endured this indignity with the vacant-eyed stoicism of a shell shocked soldier.

"So, what's going on?" Dipper asked, looking at the stopped car.

"We're at the edge of the weirdness barrier around Gravity Falls," Ford said. "Bill can't cross it. Obviously, slamming him into it would be like driving into a wall. It would be fatal."

"To just Bill? Or the tourist, too?"

"There is no tourist. That's—him."

"Yeah," Stan said. "So he claims, anyway. I'm not sure I believe that."

Mabel gasped and grabbed Dipper's arm. "I knew it! Grunkle Ford, Grunkle Stan—I think he's telling the truth! When Bill possessed Dipper, he was all cold and gross like a dead body. But this time he's normal! I bet his book wanted blood so he could make a body out of it!"

"Like a homunculus?" The Book of Bill was made of human brain tissue—and Ford had gotten the disconcerting impression that he could feel vertebrae through the book's spine. "I wouldn't put it past him."

Stan screwed up his face, tilting his head. "All right, magic books and humonkeys are beyond me, but—something's still fishy. He's holding something back, I'm sure of it. Sixer, you've had more practice figuring him out than anyone else, what do you think?"

Ford sighed. "Unfortunately, he's also had more experience manipulating me than anyone else. But, all the same, I wouldn't put the possibility that this is really his body past him. I... I've never seen him so..." He meant to say furious. Instead, he said, "hurt." 

Ford wondered if there really was something to Bill's anger that he had never seen before—something awoken by dying?—or if it was just easier for Ford to see the emotions now that they were on a human face. If there were other nuances he'd missed over the years.

Glancing toward the car, Ford didn't see any anger on Bill's face now. It was completely blank—not neutral but empty, like he was too exhausted to feel. "Bill's a good liar, but I've never known him to be a good actor. I think that... outburstwas sincere."

Mabel said, "I've seen him impersonating Soos, Dipper, and Blanchin Blandin, and—he's convincing when he's doing normal stuff, but I've never seen him try to fake having emotions."

Dipper said, "Yeah, he's not really big on emoting. Pretty much the only expression he knows how to make on purpose is the world's creepiest smile."

"Okay," Stan said, "so he's probably telling the truth about being stuck in a human body and being mad about it. But what about that thing he said about setting him loose again if we kill his body."

(Dipper and Mabel exchanged a look. Dipper mouthed Trojan horse, and Mabel nodded.)

"Because here's the thing," Stan said. "Say that's a lie, and killing him will just kill him. If he's half the liar you think he is, he woulda been trying to convince us from the start that his life is the only thing standing between us and the apocalypse! So why'd he only pull this out at the last minute, when it sounds like a stupid excuse?"

"He didn't need to tell us before," Ford said. "We thought he was possessing a tourist, we didn't want to hurt her."

"Ending the world's a lot scarier than killing one tourist! Why bother with the 'tourist puppet' schtick and then escalate? Maybe that's just the kind of half-rate con artist he is, but—just—!" Stan flung his hands up. "Something isn't adding up!"

Ford said, "So you think it's double reverse psychology? He told us killing him would restart Weirdmageddon so we'll think it's a lie, kill him, and actually restart it?"

Stan paused. "No," he said. "No, that's not it, either. If it was, he coulda just let us drive into that invisible barrier without saying anything."

"Then what? What's he actually trying to make us think?"

Stan stared at Bill, still turning over their conversation in the car, trying to put his finger on what had seemed wrong about it.

Wanna find out whether blowing up this flesh prison will kill me or unleash me?

Stan could see Bill's face as it had looked yesterday, on the ground at his feet, barrel of a laser gun aimed at Bill's forehead, looking past it to stare straight into Stan's eyes. Go ahead, Stanley, let's find out what'll happen. He could have claimed then that killing him would end the world—or he could have forced Stan to shoot—but that was all he'd said. Let's find out.

Slowly, Stan said, "He's not trying to make us think anything. He's banking on us being too scared to gamble on what'll happen if he dies. Because he's too scared to gamble." Stan turned to stare at Bill. "You! You don't know if you can come back from this."

Bill blinked and focused on the Pines, glare darting between them.

"Do you?" Stan crossed his arms.

Bill's face twitched, and his defiance collapsed: "No! I don't know! I didn't get to see the terms and conditions on this stupid body—I don't know if I get my angles back when this body croaks, or if I just get shuffled into a human afterlife and that's it!" He forced a furious smile. "But if I don't know what's going to happen, then neither do you! Nobody does! So do you want to find out the hard way?!"

Bill looked from face to face; their silence was answer enough. No. They did not want to find out the hard way. He laughed loudly, reveling in his one tiny triumph.

"All right," Stan barked, "I've had enough of your crap." He cracked his knuckles, marched up to Bill, and socked his jaw.

Bill immediately shut up.

The other humans politely clapped.

####

If they couldn't take Bill out of the weirdness barrier, then for now there was only one place to take him: back to the shack. Stan borrowed a phone to step off the road and have a quick, hushed conversation with his contacts about the change in plans, while Ford helped Dipper and Mabel attach their bikes to the roof of the car.

When Stan returned, Ford said, "We're running out of seats." What he really meant was they were out of seats that would keep the kids away from Bill.

"Just stick me in the trunk!" Bill—leaning against the car boredly while the humans rearranged his incarceration plans—had regained some of his usual pep now that one small thing had gone right for him. He had, somehow, got his hands on the bat Soos had stowed in the back seat, and had been holding it like a cane, unnoticed until he used it to gesture toward the trunk. "I'm a prisoner! Humans put prisoners in the trunk, right?"

Stan snorted. "What, and let you kick out the taillights and escape? I don't think so. And who let you have a weapon!" He snatched the bat from Bill and tossed it in the trunk instead. "Kids, you sit on the front bench." Stan and Soos slid into the back with Bill jammed in the middle.

The drive was very, very quiet.

The only noise was the quiet squeak as Bill took up steadily kicking Ford's side of the front bench. Ford's grip on the steering wheel tightened. He said nothing.

Stan kicked Bill's ankle. Bill kicked Stan. Soos leaned against the window in a futile attempt to escape them and sighed.

And then the car was silent again.

"Say!" Bill said. The other passengers started. "What is it, about three? That's morning! Who wants to go get breakfast?"

"No," Stan and Ford said.

"Aw, come on! I think we're near that truck stop where Sixer had a psychotic episode!" Bill kicked the front bench more enthusiastically. "I thought you guys decided to keep me alive! You'll have a hard time doing that if you let me starve to death."

Ford said, "You're not going to starve to death between now and when we get home."

Soos blinked. "Hey, he slept through dinner, didn't he? Dude. How long has it been since you last ate?"

"Do socks count?"

Dipper and Mabel cast a suspicious glance at the damp half sock lying in the front footwell.

Soos shook his head. "Uh-uh."

"Then depending on which way of measuring nonlinear chronology you want to go by, it's either been a day, a year, or an eternity."

Soos furrowed his brow. Stan sighed irritably and said, "Would it kill you to give a straight answer?"

"It might. I've never tried before." Bill cackled. "It's not my fault I don't know which way you want to count chronology!"

Flatly, Ford said, "How long does your body think it's been since you last fed it."

"I've never fed it."

The humans stared in shock. Even Ford spared a glance in the rearview mirror.

"Ohhh right, that's not optional anymore. That explains the ceaseless abdominal pain! And all Chumbo's griping! And the vertigo when I stand up! And the mood swings!" Bill laughed, "Hey, Fordsy! Turns out I was just hungry!"

"I'll stop for breakfast if you never call me that again."

"Deal!"

Ford took the turn toward the Triple Digit Truck Stop.

####

[lady-lostmind]

Ride Home

for Stobin Month prompt: Rain

Thank you @oh-stars for betaing this!

WC: 657 | Rating: T

ao3 link

Steve pulls up outside of Family Video, rain pouring down and thunder sounding out loudly every couple of seconds. He gets out, popping an umbrella open and hurrying to the door, pulling on the handle only for it to clang against the lock. Steve pounds on the door until he sees Robin’s head peek out from between the shelves, her face scrunching in confusion. She rushes over to the door and unlocks it. Steve ducks inside, shaking the excess water off his umbrella before he shuts the door and leans it against the wall. 

Steve glances at his watch and tsks. “Don’t think you’re supposed to lock this door for another fifteen minutes, Miss Buckley. What do you have to say for yourself?” 

Robin rolls her eyes and swats Steve’s arm, turning to head back to her abandoned return cart. “What are you doing here? I thought you had some big date night planned with Eddie.” 

Steve shrugs. “Yeah but, aren’t your parents out of town?”

Robin nods. “Til Tuesday, yeah.”

Steve gestures to the windows at the front of the store, water rushing down them. “Okay so…I came to give you a ride home. It’s fucking pouring outside.” 

Robin stops what she’s doing, setting the tapes in her hands down. “Steve! I was going to just call Nance or Jonathan. What did you do, leave Eddie in the middle of dinner?” 

Steve’s face flushes and he looks down at his feet. “I mean. I told him I’d be back!” 

Robin gasps. “STEVEN! You’ve been waiting for this for like ever. You can not fuck this up because of me!” 

“What was I supposed to do, let you walk home in a storm?” Steve puts his hands on his hips. 

Robin sighs and comes to pull him into a hug. “Steve. I love you and you are amazing for doing this. But you are an absolute dingus. You’re lucky Eddie is head over fucking heels for you because anyone else would drop your ass for this.” 

Steve huffs out a laugh. “Eddie likes my ass too much to drop it.” 

Robin’s face scrunches in disgust. “Ew. Don’t talk about your ass to me.”

Steve nudges her away, grabbing a couple tapes off the cart to help her finish up quicker. “You brought up my ass.” 

Robin scoffs. “In reference to you like, as a whole. Not as its own entity.”

Steve’s brow cinches together. “Why does my ass offend you? I have a nice ass. I think you can objectively agree that my ass is nice. And that Eddie should like it since we’re dating now.” 

Robin shakes her head. “I have no opinions about your ass. Or what Eddie does or doesn’t want to do to it.”

Steve rolls his eyes. “I didn’t say anything about doing butt stuff with Eddie. This is literally our first date.”

Robin snorts. “Right because that ever stopped you before.”

Steve gasps, smacking her arm with the tape in his hand. “I have never done butt stuff on a first date. That’s at least third date territory.”

A squawk comes from the end of the aisle and they both freeze to look over at a sopping wet Eddie staring at them with his mouth dropped open. “Uh– I just uh– I realized I should have just come with you. Because we’re on a date. And I also want Robin to get home safe. And I just drove over here, which I now realize means I can’t really go with you anyway unless I leave the van here. But I’m here now. And the door was open. And I–” His eyes flash up to meet Steve’s eyes, cheeks blazing. “Uh– I think a third date sounds great. For the record.”

A cocky grin pulls across Steve’s mouth and Robin gags, shoving a stack of tapes in Eddie’s hands. “Here go put these back so I can get away from you two.”

Stobin month prompt list by @lavenderstobins

[xmorguekittyx]

{originally written by me under xxbattykittyxx but i deleted that account so we are reposting it here🖤}

Minors dni 18+

no triggers that i know of

Sad fic 💔

𝔖𝔱𝔢𝔳𝔢.

The hair that pressed against the back of his neck laid perfectly down with aqua net. The Family Video uniform crumpled and wrinkled in places, from where he took it off and immediately threw it in the floor once he returned home.

My heart ached as I watched him converse with Nancy Wheeler. He held onto her soft fleshy hand as he walked around the store, showing her the new releases as I stocked the returns we had for the day.

The sun was at its highest peak as the rays cast into the small video store. I couldn’t help but watch them. His hand ghosting over her waist as she passed in-front of him. His soft smile as he looked down at her soft face. Nancy Wheeler was everything I wanted to be and more.

Especially, she was Steve Harrington’s.

But so was I, once.

“You know you can get Keith to give you the 𝖓𝖎𝖌𝖍𝖙 𝖘𝖍𝖎𝖋𝖙, right?”, Robins voice calls to me as my hand picks up yet another vhs tape. “I- uh, why would I want to do that, Rob?”, I ask her has my eyes dance along the full cart. This would take me a while, the casing of 16 Candles staring up at me as I turn away from her to walk down to the teen section.

She wouldn’t let me go like that, though. “Because you’ve been eyeing them since she came in.”, Robin leans against the row of movies as I part the vhs already sitting there, laying the tape between two other copies. “I’m merely looking for customers needing help.”, I sigh as I turn back to her, her arms already crossed and an eyebrow hitched at me. “Thats totally not what you’re doing. You’re moping.”, she says as she watches me walk back to the cart. “Maybe you should help me put up tapes and not judge my love life, Ro.”, I sigh again. I was over today, my head ached and all three of us didn’t need to be here right now. It was a Tuesday.

“I’m not judging, I just-“, she sighed, “I know you’re hurting.”, she says as she grabs my upper arms and stops me from returning another tape. “I’m not hurting.”, I laugh as I look up at her. “Why would I be hurting?”, my throat tightens as the burning starts. “Im not hurting, Steve decided he wanted her instead, that’s his decision. He broke up with me.”, the tears start to blur my vision of her as she pulls me into a hug. “Talk to Keith. Steve never works the night shift. You’ll never have to see him again.”, she says as she squeezes me harder. My arms wrapping around her back as I squeeze her tighter.

“I’ll talk to him.”, I cry as I dig my face further into her neck. “I’ll finish the tapes.”, she says as she pulls away from me. Her fingers reaching up to straighten my hair back out, fixing me up. “He’s in the office now.”, her sad smile mirroring mine. I reach up and swipe the tears from my eyes as I brace myself to talk to Keith. “Okay, I’ll be back.”, I tell her as she gives me a small thumbs up.

The red door, bright against the plainer walls. I rap my knuckles against the door as I hear him rewinding tapes. “Come in.”, his voice is lazy, probably because we’ve been here a good while already. “Hey, are you okay?”, the first words from his mouth as I open the door. “Yeah, yeah. I’m okay.”, I say as I grip the uniform pants, sitting in one of the ripped up upholstered chairs. “I had something to ask you.”, I say as I feel my chest tighten. “Hit me.”, he says as he relaxes back into his rolling chair, propping his head up with his arms and his feet up on the desk. “Is it possible if I can swap to the night shift?”, my heart was racing, I wasn’t sure if this was what I wanted. What if I didn’t want this? “Oh, I see. I can try and work that out. Is there anything going on?”, his feet drop from the desk as he leans forward to get closer to me. “Oh, no. Nothing like that. Just want a change of rhythm, I think.”, my mind was racing as I tried to come up with something. “I’ll work it out, just let me know if you ever want a shift change. Night shift isn’t the greatest.”, he gives me a concerned look as he eyes me up and down. He could tell something was off, Steve and I were usually so close and worked very close together. It hadn’t been that way in weeks since the breakup.

I found letter of secrecy between the two. His efforts to hide them weren’t the greatest. They were simply laid across his desk in his bedroom. I felt my heart break again as I remember the moment I read them. “Thank you, Keith.”, I say as I stretch back up. “You’re welcome.”, he nods before going back to rewinding the tapes.

I take the uniform vest off to reveal my black t shirt. “I’m about to head out Robin!”, I shout to her as she worked on finishing the last of the tapes. My shift had dwindled to its end as I punched out my card. “I’ll call you later?”, she asks as I turn to see her wheat colored hair pop up from over a shelf. “Yeah.”, I lazily reply as I scan the store. My eyes landing on the one thing I didn’t want them to. Steve’s brown puppy eyes stare into mine as he wiped down the counters. I can’t tell what he was thinking but at this point I can’t care to figure him out. It was his decision to see Nancy behind my back, he decided to shroud himself from me after breaking up with me. My heart ached to see what I assumed was regret before I remember his look at her earlier. They were in love, there’s no denying or changing it.

*ding*

The bell to Bennys was drowned out by shouting, the pouring rain and the sound of sizzling. I scrubbed my shoes on the mat as I scanned the restaurant for a seat. I had decided that after yesterday, I needed to get out of the house and not just to go to work. I rarely did anything for myself since the break up. I didn’t know how to do things by myself anymore, every time I wanted to do something I had Steve by my side.

My eyes stop on a sight I never wanted to see again. Steve’s hand was raised with a French fry between his fingers as he fed it to his lover, who in return scrunched up her nose as she wiped her mouth after biting it. The sizzling and shouting quieted as the only thing registering in my mind was their laughter.

“You gonna take a seat darling?”, I hear Melinda ask as I gather myself and turn toward her. “Yes, ma’am. I’m sorry, I got distracted.”, her pitiful look didn’t help. Bennys was the place Steve and I would come on date nights. “I’ll get your usual, honey.”, she gives me a sad smile before turning back to the cook as she shouted my order to him. My feet dragged me to the corner booth, my bag being dropped in the seat next to me as I laid my head in my hands.

He had to bring her here, the place that was ours? Where else did he take her that was ours? Flashes of her in his bed, his arms, his passenger seat, everywhere that was mine crawl to the back of my mind. The stinging in my throat angered me. I didn’t want to cry, I didn’t want to think about this anymore. He disposed of me as if I was nothing.

My eyes move and linger on Nancy, her perfect smile, her skinny frame. Her delighted look as she watches Melinda bring her a milkshake. Chocolate milkshake, with chocolate shaving. That was my order. A dejected sigh leaves my mouth before I can stop it. My hand going to play with the bracelet around my wrist, it was the one he had given me on our first date. Why I still had it I had no idea, I’d worn it so long I just never got around to taking it off. For once, I wish I could just understand what made her so special. What made Nancy Wheeler so special? Was it her charm? Her smarts? Her whit? What did she have that I never could? The answer was clear as I looked back over to Steve, his finger swiping a bit of whip cream before wiping it across her nose. Her face turning into one of shock and then joy. Maybe it was her lips, I wished I was him for a moment just to kiss her lips, to figure out why she was the one and I wasn’t.

Melinda returned with my food and a disheartened mood. “I was always rooting for you, two.”, she says as she lays a loving pat to my shoulder. I’m sure she meant it in good nature but it was the breaking point for me. I slapped a $5 bill on the table before gripping my bag and walking out of the door. I collapse against the brick as I felt all the anger and sadness well up. My hands coming up to my face as I felt the salty tears drop from my eyes. I had to take one more look, I had to force myself to see. I side stepped to see the inside of Bennys, Steve held another fry up to his mouth as she spoke something I couldn’t hear.

My hair was soaked and my tears quick as I watched him smile and laugh. It’s like he doesn’t even care he hurt me. My tears flow heavier as I catch his brown eyes with mine. His mouth gapes slightly as he sees me, I’m sure I looked like hell. My hair sticking to my face as my mascara ran down my face. His face dropped and he turned again to face Nancy, my heart collapsed then and there. He really didn’t care.

Why wasn’t I good enough for him? I needed to move on, after all he’s why I had decided to take the 𝖓𝖎𝖌𝖍𝖙 𝖘𝖍𝖎𝖋𝖙.

Leon x Reader coming out in a few days 🖤

[sebastiansluts]

Anon Ask - Bucky Barnes

Anon asked: Can we get a third one of the black mailing nudes d f bucky when they meet and he tells her to fuck him and record it without her knowing until the end with a degradation kink overstim(her) and maybe her being a brat at the beginning so he has to punish her by spanking her ? oh and also he marks her everywhere with the spanks and hickeys just to claim her

Bucky Barnes x Reader; dub/non!con, blackmail, vaginal sex, sex tape, degradation, overstimulation, spanking, marking kink?

ANY HATE WILL BE DELETED THIS IS A JUDGEMENT FREE ZONE DON'T LIKE, DON'T INTERACT; MINORS DO NOT INTERACT 18+

"Bucky I'm done, I want out. I'll do whatever you want right now, but then that's it or I'm telling my dad everything," you said firmly, arms crossed where you stood on his front steps, determined.

"Is that so?" Bucky asked, raising an eyebrow and glancing around before pulling you inside, shutting the door behind you.

"Yeah so just fuck me or whatever, and let's get this over with," you huffed, striding into his place, heading to his room, and flopping on the bed. You pulled your clothes off and tossed them to the floor, watching as he stood in the doorway of his room for a moment, staring at you. Then his face hardened and he strode inside, flipping you over onto you stomach and smacking your ass hard.

You yelped, feet kicking, and he slapped your ass again. "Just fuck you or 'whatever', hm? Shouldn't have given me carte blanche little girl, that gives me all the permission I need to spank the brat out of you," Bucky said as he smacked you over and over again, until your cheeks were aching.

"Bucky please! I'm sorry," you cried, tears streaming down your face into the pillow.

"Of course you are doll, you're my pathetic little whore now aren't you?" Bucky asked mockingly, spanking you again when you didn't answer.

"Yes!" you shouted, hiccupping.

Bucky groaned, pulling your hips up and saying, "Keep your face in the pillows baby, that's it." You could hear him undoing his pants, then you felt his dick pressing at your entrance. You tensed, then forced yourself to relax, as he pushed in. The tip popped in and the rest sliding along easily until the last inch, where he had to force it with a shove of his hips.

You choked, feeling absolutely stuffed full, face smothered in the pillow, wet with your tears and saliva. Your hands were fisted in the sheets, legs spread wide as he pounded into you, each thrust needing that extra bit to fully get inside you.

"Jesus Christ doll, you've got one of the tightest cunts I've ever fucked," Bucky groaned, hips slapping your still burning ass. You sobbed and Bucky laughed. "What, don't wanna hear about all the girls I've fucked? Wanna be my only one huh?"

You cried harder, not able to answer and he just gripped one of your hips in his hand, fucking you even faster, hammering your spot.

"G-gonna come," you stuttered, hips raising as he pressed deeper.

"Yeah you are baby, can't help it can you, so dumb on my cock you need to come, tell me I'm right doll," Bucky grunted, balls slapping up against you, grazing your clit.

"Yes Bucky! Need you, need to come," you begged, and he pulled out, ignoring your whine as he suddenly flipped you over. Your eyes focused on his hand, holding his phone. You opened your mouth to shout, but he slammed back into you and all that came out was a strangled, "Oh!"

"Yeah fucking take it baby, come on my cock, right now," Bucky grunted, fucking you so hard you slid up the bed. He pulled you back down onto his cock, holding there and grinding as you came, spasming around him. He didn't stop, hips still steadily fucking you through your orgasm straight into a second one that had you screaming.

Bucky cursed, hips moving even faster, ignoring your sobs and cries of, "It's too much, Bucky! Please, I can't do it." He moved his arm to the side, phone still pointed at you, as he bit your neck, sucking the flesh into his mouth between his teeth. You shrieked, coming again, tears falling rapidly down your face.

Bucky sat up, dark eyes focused on the mark on your neck and he bent down, making more, enough to give you a collar of hickeys, with another two on your tits.

His hips never stopped moving, grinding deep into your aching cunt, your breath hitching as you felt yourself climb again.

"Bucky please, no more, I can't," you tried, but he just shushed you.

"Of course you can doll, you got one more in this little pussy," he replied, pulling back and fucking you hard again.

Your whole body tensed, clamping down so hard on Bucky's dick he couldn't move, before your body shook as you came, going limp when you couldn't bear it anymore.

"Fucking hell baby, nearly broke my dick," he groaned, hips stuttering as he finally came, your cunt pulsing on him, milking him.

When he was done, he pulled out slowly, watching and filming as his cum slowly started to trickle out of your slightly gaped pussy. He sighed and turned off the camera, laying on the bed next to you and pulling you into his arms.

Your body trembled in his hold, but you were so loose you couldn't make yourself pull away. You just slumped, tears still dripping down onto his chest.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 4

[rancidpancakebatter]

Grip Tape-Chapter 2 [P.P.]

Pairings: Peter Parker x AFAB Reader

Summary: Peter offers to teach you how to skateboard and who are you to say no? This is a pre-bite fic so we get to enjoy Peter Parker in his full Dorky Display.

Word Count: 2.3k words

Content: MINORS DNI: 18+ Swearing, Marijana Use, Underage Drinking, Bullying

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Chapter Summary: You have lunch with Peter and you set up a time for your first lesson.

A/N: I forgot to mention this before but this is my first fic ever. It means a lot to me that after a few hours I had over 20 notes. I know some people may not think that's a lot but that's a HUGE deal to me. Thank you all. If you would like to be tagged in future chapters let me know!

You walked to your locker in the opposite direction, hyper-aware of your pace. You were almost running and only slowed down after getting a warning glance from a social studies teacher you hadn’t yet had the pleasure of learning from. You reached your locker and pulled out your new board and a grocery bag with leftover Chinese from last night. Your dad always ordered a la carte so you had a big thing of fried rice, orange chicken, and dumplings. You realized that you would have to heat them up before you met peter. 

You rushed to your favourite teacher’s room, they always let you use their microwave. You tore the metal handle off and popped those suckers in one at a time. Miss Ritter seemed to notice your bouncing leg and new toy. 

You were staring at that spinning white box, willing it to heat up faster. 

“(Y/n),” You stopped, turning your head to the sound of your name. Ms Ritter was looking at you with an amused smile, “you’re bouncing, hon.” 

You brought your gaze down to see that your leg was indeed bouncing, shaking the desk you were sitting in while you waited. 

You chuckled weakly, it was more air than joy. “Sorry, ma’am.” 

You stilled your leg and saw that nearly seven minutes had passed. You didn’t want Peter to think you were standing him up. Can you use “standing up” in this context? It wasn’t a date, you guys were eating lunch together, at school. The beep of the microwave jumped you from your thoughts and you rose to retrieve the last to-go container. 

Ms Ritter chuckled again, “Who is it?” 

You looked at her perplexed, “Who is what? In the microwave?”

This received a full-on laugh as you continued to grow more and more confused. You moved to pack up the boxes in the bag before going back to the cart that the microwave rested on. Below the humming box of radiation was a little cubby with plastic silverware. 

“Who is it that has you all worked up, dear? It must be someone important for you to be this frantic.” 

You scoffed at her accusation, “I am not ‘frantic’” you brought your hands up to emphasise the air quotes, “and there isn’t anyone.” 

Ms Ritter only raised her eyebrow. As a high school teacher, she hears bullshit on a daily basis and can call it faster than a seasoned referee calling a penalty in a hockey game. 

“Oh yeah?” She quipped, “How many forks are in your hand right now?”

You stopped as you realized you had grabbed two, you continued to place them in the bag and loosely knotted the top. “Is it a crime to grab an extra?” 

Ms Ritter rolled her eyes before waving her hand to the skateboard resting against the desk. “And this new hobby is completely your own and not influenced by anyone at all, huh?” 

You huffed again, “Is it so wrong to try new things in high school? What’s wrong with skateboarding? It’s good exercise and it's better for the planet!” 

You were quite exasperated, throwing your arms up at the end. Ms Ritter threw hers up in an act of surrender and turned her chair away. You took the opportunity to race out of the room. 

You opened the doors and were hit in the face with a very cold wind. There wasn’t any snow or ice yet but the leaves provided a similar slippery blanket. You pushed forward and as you turned the corner you began to hear the familiar sound of plastic slowly being worn by the pavement. There were gaps of silence followed by a harsh smack and more grinding. You watched quietly as he did tricks that you recognized but couldn’t name. 

You spotted a bench behind him and decided to skate by him rather than walk, just in case he hadn’t seen your skill that morning. When you moved past him he stopped and you waved, smiling at him as you approached the bench. As you sat down Peter hopped off his board and made his way to you, jogging. 

“Hey, glad you could make it!” You chuckled, still unable to meet his gaze, instead, choosing to busy yourself with the bag that read 'thank you' down the sides. Peter sat down and rested his board along the side of the bench, just as you had.

“Did you already eat?” you asked him, ready to invite him to eat your lunch.

When you looked up at him you wished you hadn’t. It was cold outside so his face was a little red and he was breathing hard from all the energy he was exerting before. It was a look you didn’t mind on him and you were pushing back thoughts of other scenarios that would leave him with the same countenance. You cleared your throat as your eyes darted back down to pull out the boxes, feeling your face warm. 

Peter rummaged through his backpack before responding, “No, I was waiting for you.”

Your heart stopped. He seemed unsure that you would show up in the first place but continued to wait for you just in case. 

He pulled out a brown paper bag with grease stains on the bottom and you bit back a laugh at how stereotypical it appeared.

“What have you got there?” You asked, eyebrows raised. 

Peter chuckled and rubbed the back of his neck as he opened the bag.

“My Aunt May is trying to clear out the fridge so it’s a bunch of leftovers: meatloaf, mac and cheese, and under-seasoned vegetables.” You chuckled at his lack of enthusiasm towards his lunch and he laughed as well. 

“Well if you want,” you began, drawing his attention from his sad sack, “You can split my lunch with me. It’s also leftovers but it’s Chinese take out and it’s warm.” You dangled the extra fork in front of him, taunting. 

Peter put his hands up in the same way Ms Ritter had and leaned away, “No, I couldn’t possibly. That’s your lunch, I shouldn’t-''

You cut him off by grabbing his wrist, turning it so his palm was face up. You placed the fork in his open hand and curled his fingers around it awkwardly. He couldn’t take his eyes off of where your hands were touching his. He felt his face warm and prayed you wouldn’t notice. 

“Please Peter,” you pulled your face into the best pout you could manage, “There’s no way I can finish this all on my own, plus I brought an extra fork.”

Peter’s face was deepening in its crimson shade and his heart was pounding. You were looking at him in a way that his body couldn’t help but respond to. Your big doe eyes boring into his, you were still holding his curled hand with both of yours and he loved the feeling of it. He closed his eyes tight trying to force perverted thoughts out of his head. He took a deep breath and composed himself. Being a teenage boy was very hard. 

“Fine, fine, but only because you literally twisted my arm.” You smiled brightly as you began to open up the various containers. You tried to eat slowly letting Peter get as much as he wanted, he was very hesitant to 'take your food' no matter how much you insisted you were fine. You ate mostly in silence with small bouts of small talk: What did your schedule look like? Do you like your classes? Etc. After 10 minutes you announced that you were done and went to throw your fork away in a nearby trash can. When you turned back you saw Peter was examining your board in his lap. 

You sat back down, suddenly feeling very shy. You hoped it was a good one but you didn’t even know what that meant. There were so many brands, colours, and shapes.

“I like your deck, it’s pretty cool.” The deck you picked was simple. It was pink and it had the women’s restroom logo on it. 

You informed him that it was a Girl Board, “It was either that, hentai, or weed.” 

At that, Peter laughed, “Yeah that seems about right. Are you not a huge fan of Hentai and weed?” 

He looked at you from the side, still facing your deck. You blushed a little, I mean technically Peter had just asked if you watched porn.

“I’m not really into hentai no and I didn’t feel like getting suspended for having drugs or anime titties at school.” 

Peter seemed to nod his head considering what you had said. “How long have you had it?” 

You scratched the back of your neck, you had to be very careful with what you said next. You couldn’t lie and say you had had it long because it was obviously new, but you didn’t want him to think it had anything to do with him.

“Uh, I got it a few months ago, a birthday present from my uncle. He took me to Vans and let me pick out what I wanted. I only started riding it last week though.” 

You hoped it was a believable lie and Peter seemed to buy it. “What took you so long to get on the saddle?” 

He shook your board for emphasis and you giggled. “Well I was scared, I’m not exactly the most graceful, and I didn’t have anyone to teach me.”

Peter could not have been more delighted at your words. He could teach you. He had been riding for years. If he offered and you said yes then he could spend more time with you. Now he just had to offer, that’s easy, just ask. 

“So how have you been learning so far?” He smiled as you told him youtube and your driveway was the best you had at the moment.

“Show me what you got.” 

At his words, you froze. You could go forwards and stop, that’s it. Also, you didn’t bring your protective gear and you didn’t want to hurt yourself in front of him and embarrass yourself. You turned your head to tell him you couldn’t but he was giving you that reassuring smile you had seen so many times before. His nose was scrunched in such an adorable way. You want to smooth out the wrinkles but you also want them to stay forever. His eyes are what sealed your fate, once again Deimos’ and Phobos’ gravity pulled on your heart and you couldn't say no. 

You stood up and he walked with you, “I don’t know any tricks, I can just go forwards, that’s it.”

Peter smiled and told you it didn’t matter. You placed the board down on the ground, too afraid to do the drop-in thing you usually do, and pushed off. You went forward before stopping at the end of the courtyard pavement. You then stepped off and turned around now sailing to Peter. He watched with his index finger and thumb cradling his chin as you went, pretending to study you very carefully. You stopped again in front of him before stepping on the end of the deck to bring the front into your hands. 

You manoeuvred it until you were holding it by the middle before throwing your arms up into a wide shrug, “I know, I know, not all that impressive.”

Peter hummed as if in deep thought before speaking in a silly British accent. “I don’t know, considering it’s only been a week you seem to show great potential. You have outstanding balance and that, as you probably already know, is of key importance. It’s very hard to teach.” 

You giggled at his antics and he began to cut up too. He dropped his hands to the side and looked down. “No really though,” he brought his head back up to meet your gaze, “You are pretty good. If you want, though, I could teach you some tricks and stuff.” 

He gestured around with his right hand, his left placed in his pocket. He did this a lot and you always loved it. He was very animated and you found it endearing. 

You were so lost in everything that is Peter Parker you almost didn’t process his offer. “Uh, yeah, no, that would be great, yeah.” 

He smiled and pumped his fist. You couldn’t help but giggle. What a beautiful noise that was. Peter was conflicted, split between not wanting to make anymore a fool of himself and wanting to do anything to hear that again. He settled himself, clearing his throat as he returned his hands to his pockets. “So, uh do wanna...after uh…but only if you want to...but if you want I could…uhhh…” You giggled once again. 

There was something that was just so effortlessly calming about this boy. Everything he did made you feel warm. You’re pretty sure that he could tell you he was an active criminal and you would forgive him on account of his warm brown eyes and fluffy hair. “I work until seven on weeknights but I’m off Friday and the weekend.” 

Peter rubbed the back of his neck and cleared his throat again as if that could clear out such a poor excuse of a sentence. He gave you a tight-lipped smile as he nodded his head. You took that as a yes to an unasked question and began to gather your things, “Great, you can take me home Friday”. 

He looked up with a shocked expression that melted into a soft smile. He watched you walk back into the school as the lunch bell began to ring. 

The rest of the day you couldn’t stop smiling. Peter was going to teach you how to ride a skateboard. You sailed through the rest of your day just thinking of that sweet, tall, boy and excited for all the time you would get to spend with him. 

[steddie-interactions]

An Hour Before Closing

Inspired by this post: x Short little ficlet, nothing more. Robin helps Steve talk some stuff out. Support, comfort, and platonic love.

Steve continued to rewind the VHS, knee bouncing as he spoke. His words were fumbling out as if they needed to be said at a fast pace or else they'd never get out. All the while Robin is nodding her head along to his ramblings.

"I'm just saying," Steve looks away from her to load in the next tape. "He's the most beautiful person I know and he's very attractive but like," Air escapes from him in a huff. "That's gay and I'm straight."

The machine continues to stay on standby, its jaws wide open to receive another tape, but Steve is just staring at it. With a posture resembling a person who looks tired, he pinches the bridge of his nose with a deflating sigh. "I mean, I've dated lots of girls, Robin. I've had, well... you know, sex. I didn't hate it or get grossed out by that, so I am not gay."

"It's okay to have feeling like this," Robin starts while putting a hand on his shoulder, squeezing it lightly. "Seriously, Stevie. It doesn't necessarily mean you are romantically involved or that you're a gay person. Not that being one would make any of us see you differently."

Steve finally looks at her again and Robin smiles before continuing, "Just means that you have a very great friendship. And hey," She wiggles her brows. "Even straight people can admire the same sex in a complimentary way."

Robin had expected him to smile or maybe even chuckle — something else that wasn't staring at her as if she grew another set of eyes on her face. Then he spoke in such a calm manner as if stating the weather conditions outside.

"Yeah, but I'd fuck him."

Robin blinked as she digested this, trying to not gawk at the blatant statement that Steve just admitted to. "Uh, well, yeah... Yeah, that changes a couple of things."

"What do you mean?"

Robin put her other hand on his vacant shoulder while leaning down a fraction more to level their gaze. "Stevie, there's more than just straight and gay — so much more and there's no true or wrong way to go about it. You might be bisexual or pansexual or even demiromantic — who knows. Labels are just labels and not everyone fits perfectly into some box. I say," Robin gentle poked the center of Steve's chest. "Follow your heart."

"Easier said than done," Steve gently pushed, the chair rolling backward, successfully putting distance between them.

"True," her hands picked up the forgotten VHS and popped it into the machine, starting it up. "But you'll never know the answer to all those questions in your head if you don't start asking — or, well, confronting things." Robin watched Steve get up and walk around the counter to start putting away the tapes ready to go back on the shelves.

"Besides," She continued, "like I said, we won't judge you. I definitely won't look at you any differently. You are still Steve - the hair - Harrington to me — us. The kiddo's might ask a few questions but that's just how kids are. I'm sure even Nancy will support you."

With his back facing Robin, Steve shut his eyes. "I hope you are right, Rob. I really do." His gaze refocused and he looked over his shoulder to his coworker. "Now, enough about me and my problems. You gonna' help me wrap things up or do you wanna' stay after closing?"

"Oh, yeah, no — I could do without that." She grabbed a few tapes from the cart after rounding the counter. "And Stevie?"

"Yeah?"

"I love ya', you dork."

Steve smiled softly at that, "Love you too, dork."

[mrs-bartowski]

Brace for impact y'all cuz my brain is being Extra Rude this fine Sunday. OKAY, so...

What with Lena's new unemployment status, obviously we have all these hcs about her being unable to afford the penthouse and moving in with Kara.

Then of course we have all the accompanying hcs about Lena's time in the apartment between now and when Kara gets back (blanket sniffing, inability to sleep in Kara's bed, ready-to-pack corner of belongings so as to not alter Kara's home, and all those other super fun things that make me wanna cry).

I see all of those (and love them) and I raise you one: the Mxy tapes.

So, we see right after Mxy leaves when Kara picks up "The One Where Lena Decided To Work With Lex" which is what, in combination with her realization that telling Lena the truth always has "huge" consequences, motivates her to make that super OOC decision to absolve herself entirely of her guilt and tell Lena she'll treat her like a villain if she works with Lex, yes?

Now, what if that wasn't the only tape Mxy left behind? What if he left a recording of each of those alternate timelines because, after seeing Kara twist what she learned to fit her frustration over Lena's continued cold shoulder and hearing what she said to Lena, Mxy decided she might want to watch them again at some point to remember the real takeaway: she's fighting for the relationship that saves the world...

Kara found the tapes stacked on the coffee table when she got home, with a note that said "You found the magic. Now don't lose it." She wanted to get angry, but instead she just put the tapes in a box on the shelf under the TV and tried to forget about them.

----------

Lena's hand shakes slightly as she slides the key into the lock, feeling the ghost of Alex’s hand rest gently on her shoulder as it had when she’d pressed the cold metal into her palm a few hours earlier with a silent offer and an encouraging nod. The door swings open slowly, and Lena is hit by a sudden wave of cold. Not temperature, but energy. It’s too quiet - no NSYNC on the speaker or Bachelorette on the TV. It’s too empty - no smell of fresh (slightly burnt) bread or yarn strewn all over the counter from Kara’s various crochet projects. It’s too...Kara-less.

Lena shakes off the feeling and slides her bag off her shoulder in the corner by the bookcase, careful not to knock Kara’s favorite cinnamon candle off the stool beside her, as she tells Alexa to play Nina Simone. She zips open her bag to pull out her favorite copy of Mrs. Dalloway and finds it missing. Realizing she must have left it in her desk drawer at LexCorp, Lena makes a mental note to send Brainy in after it tomorrow with the promise that he can change all of Lex’s passwords one more time before they leave the game for good.

Lena stares at the blank TV screen for a moment, dreading the thought of watching anything in this room without Kara’s head on her shoulder or in her lap. So, she crouches to look at the shelves of the TV stand, hoping to find at least one of the books she’d gotten Kara for her birthday last year wedged between the latest issues of CatCo Magazine and the recipe books Alex had gotten her in the hopes of spending less money on pot stickers every week.

She’s just zeroed in on The Color Purple when she notices a box she doesn’t recognize laying across the tops of the books on the other shelf. She reaches for it on instinct, then hesitates. She hasn’t touched anything of Kara’s since their falling out, and what if Kara’s “what’s mine is yours” rule no longer applies to her now? She considers leaving it alone and waiting for Kara to get back and explain, sliding The Color Purple toward her without taking her eyes off the box, before her curiosity gets the better of her and she caves, tossing the book onto the coffee table.

She opens the lid and starts at the sight of VHS tapes. Hasn't she taught Kara better than this? They'd converted all her old tapes to DVDs months into their friendship ("Kara, these things deteriorate so easily and the picture quality becomes awful, don't you want something that will last?"). She picks up the first tape and reads the label on the side: "The One Where Lena Doesn't Make It Back In Time." Her brows furrow as she stares, unblinking, at the title - demanding answers she knows only one person can give her.

She glances around, but doesn't see a VHS player anywhere, so she sets the tape on the floor beside her and picks up the next one. "The One Where Lena Can't Save Sam Or Herself." Lena shoves down her growing horror and discards the tape, hoping the next one will be less ominous. She picks it up and chokes back a sob as she reads: "The One Where There Are No Survivors."

Lena can't wait for answers anymore, so she gathers the tapes back into the box, grabs her purse and Kara's key, and heads to the closest library. Lena finds the old CRT sitting on a rolling cart in the back corner of the library, tucked between the stacks of kids' books. She pulls the first tape out of the box and slides it carefully into the slot.

30 minutes later, with tears and too-cheap eyeliner streaming down her face, Lena picks up the last tape. "The One Where Lena Was Never Your Friend." And here she'd thought things couldn't get worse. Lena takes a deep breath as she inserts the tape.

At the sight of the ruin that meets Kara and Mxy, Lena stifles the urge to laugh. Of course this is what a world without her best friend looks like. This exactly how it feels now, and she's only been gone a few weeks.

Lena's breath catches as she hears herself ask "who's Kara?," the mere thought of a world where the reporter had never believed in her, never cared enough to love her, almost too much to bear. Her hand drifts absent-mindedly to her chest as she watches herself reveal a kryptonite heart, and for a moment she can hear the sounds of her own screams as her mother's experiments rob her of the last of her humanity.

She presses her hand closer to her heart, sure that it's stopped beating at the sight of Kara on the ground, in pain at her hands but still refusing to fight her. Feels it shatter when her worst self says exactly the same words she'd said to Kara in the Fortress when asked why she had pretended to be Kara's friend for so long.

And she thinks it might kill her, this agony that's filling her body like acid. She wonders for a moment if this is what kryptonite feels like to Kara. Because it sure feels like her skin is getting seared off her bones and there are nails in her blood and it sure seems like she won't survive watching herself kill her best friend as she lies helpless and desperate on the floor.

And when Mxy pulls them out, Lena's breath returns full force until she's hyperventilating because Kara is gone and she doesn't know how long it will be until they get her back; and she was terrified of what she'd become when she lost Jack but she survived because of Kara; and if this is what losing Kara without ever having her in the first place looks like, Lena has never been more afraid than she is as she realizes what will happen to the world if she doesn't get Kara back. What she'll do to the world if it dares to take Kara from her.

So, when she gathers the tapes and goes to return them to the box and finds a note at the bottom that says "You found the magic. Now don't lose it," Lena promises herself that, for as long as she lives, she will do everything in her power to keep the magic that is Kara Danvers in her life.

----------

Alex knocks on the apartment door three days later and finds it unlocked. She pushes the door open and her hand drifts to her gun, but relaxes as she sees Lena's sleeping form curled up on the couch. Alex approaches a box she knows the contents of all too well and finds it open and empty on the table before she notices the VCR player and tapes strewn across the floor. She smiles softly as she recalls the image of Kara in the exact same position months earlier. And, as she carefully plucks the handwritten note from Lena's clutched fist, she smiles at the knowledge that, once Kara returns, no force in the world will be able to keep them apart again.

UPDATE: Ask and ye shall receive

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

[bokuroskitten]

𝔚𝔯𝔞𝔭𝔭𝔢𝔡 𝔘𝔭

〈 Issei finds the perfect item for you and him to spice things up in the bedroom, so you’ll stay all wrapped up.

≛ Genre: NSFW 18+ MINORS DNI

≛ Warnings: daddy kink, BDSM dynamics, dom/sub dynamics, bondage tape, traffic light system, one slap to the coochie, degradation, praise, oral F! receiving, size kink, creampie, slight cockwarming and mentions of aftercare

≛ Word count: 3.6k

❦ hello loves! This piece is for the boys & toys collab hosted by @fallensvint (I know it’s a couple days late shhhh) The pairing and toy used is Matsukawa Issei + Bondage Tape (yes I flustered myself writing this😳 hence why it took so long) let me know what you all think and I hope you enjoy! Mwah mwah 💋✨

❦network: @hqintheclub

His eyes were wide with curiosity, amusement. Thick brows were drawn together as he read the description of the item on his phone screen that currently illuminated the space of the dark bedroom. It was late after all, but Matsukawa was determined.

Determined to find the perfect item that would satisfy both of your needs.

You were both into BDSM, it had been something the two of you openly discussed even before you started dating. What didn’t seem to connect on was what type of play the two of you could enjoy together.

Handcuffs were easy, but you were admittedly very squirmy so because of this they weren’t the best. Rope was pretty and all, but Issei had no problem admitting he was lazy. The interact knots took too much time when he just wanted the quick convenience of having you bound.

It's not like the two of you weren’t happy, but Matsukawa was determined, there had to be the perfect item out there that would satisfy the both of you.

And now he was certain he was staring at it, right on his phone screen.

“Baby.” He murmured, gently nudging your sleeping form beside him. You gave him a groan, which only made him nudge you just a little harder.

“Issei, please, I’m so tired.”

“Look for just a second babe, I think I found it.”

“What are you talking about?”

With an overdramatic sigh, Mattsun decided to come to you, since he had a feeling you wouldn't be getting up for anything. He rolled over, pressing his chest into your back and placing his arm over you so his phone was in front of your face.

“Look.”

You hissed softly from the sudden light in your eyes, groaning and rubbing the sleep from your eyes. The actions only had Matsukawa chuckling softly, mumbling a soft sorry as he pressed a kiss into your temple.

You gave in, eyes squinting a bit to get a better look at his phone screen, about to mumble about how his brightness was too high--

But instead, you just stared, wide eyes and lips hung open in a questioning yet curious little ‘o’.

The image looked like a normal roll of black tape at first glance, but taking a couple seconds to take in the details you read the bold title.

Black bondage tape...

“It's perfect baby, don’t you think?”

You hadn’t even realized you read the title out loud until Issei said that, the clear excitement in his voice making you heat up a bit. The more you stared, the more appealing it became.

Duct tape was hot, it would definitely keep you bound. You bit your bottom lip softly.

“Won’t it hurt, like sticking to my skin?”

“No baby! See, it only sticks to itself, so it won’t hurt your skin or anything.”

He sounds much too excited as he scrolls down the page a bit to show you the description. The tape only sticks to itself, is reusable, and water-resistant.

It really did seem a little too perfect. Both you and Matsukawa were thinking that as images already played out in your mind.

“Does it come in red?” Your voice made Issei chuckle. That deep chuckle that always had your core clenching up. His thumb clicked on the little cart image in the top right corner, where there were two rolls of red bondage tape already ready to be checked out.

He just knew you so well, not to mention spent all this time trying to find the perfect thing for the both of you. So who were you to not indulge him?

“Get em’.” You murmur, nuzzling your face back into the pillows, but not before you gave his arm a soft kiss.

“Fuck yes. This is gunna be awesome.” It was always that boyish excitement of his that he had when the two of you tried something new and fun in the bedroom that made you giggle. He didn’t waste another second in the check-out, even going so far as to pick express shipping so the rolls would come in quicker.

As soon as the confirmation number popped up his phone was thrown aside, thick arms finding their way around your body to pull you in close yet again. His face was nuzzled gently into the back of your neck, a low hum leaving his lips.

“You’re gonna look so sexy… wrapped up like my little present.”

“Issei” you warned. As much as that deep voice of his turned you on, you were much too tired to deal with his antics.

“Sorry sorry.” There was a chuckle in his voice. “I mean it, but let's sleep. Love you sweet cheeks.”

It hadn’t taken long at all for the tape to arrive. Two days thanks to the express shipping. Matsukawa was adamant about using it as soon as it came in, and you had no problem agreeing.

So that's how you ended up on the bed, completely naked and flushed under your looming and grinning boyfriend. You were more nervous than embarrassed, watching the way he ran his fingers over the shiny, PVC material, held it up against your skin and sighed deeply.

“It's the perfect shade, baby girl.”

“C-Can you just put it on, please Issei?”

You knew better, well should have known better. If Matsukawa was one thing for certain, he was a tease, through and through. His thick brows drew up in amusement at the impatience in your tone.

“Eager now, aren’t we little one.” He knew you were. But he was just as excited, the tent in his boxers very much giving him away. He pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, his eyes signalling to the bedside table where the safety scissors currently sat.

“I’m going to start now, okay baby? Remember your colours?”

You knew by now what he expected of you when he asked that. “Green to go, Yellow to slow down, Red to stop.”

“Good, and the scissors are right there okay? So if you get uncomfy you just tell me. Okay, baby?”

“Yes, Daddy.” Your tone had lost a bit of its nervous edge, your palm gently brushing over his cheek before Matsukawa placed your arms where he wanted them. As usual, he had done his research, watched plenty of tutorials and videos on positions and how to place the tape properly along the body.

The sound of the first peel made you flinch a little. You really hadn't expected to be this excited for a simple roll of tape. But your body was saying otherwise, pussy fluttering in excitement and arousal already making your thin panties damp as Issei began to wrap the tape around your skin.

The tie he did was simple, one for beginners and something a little more comfortable. Your legs were bent at the knees, the shiny tape wrapped around your calves and thighs to keep them bent and close to your chest. Your wrists were taped together above your head, and Issei couldn’t help but add a couple more strands along your forearms, insisting you looked perfect “all wrapped up for him”.

He leaned back on his hunches to admire his work, his lips curling in an amused grin. Your body was hot to the touch, chest rising and falling rapidly as you squirmed a bit. The tape felt tight around your skin, but not enough to make you feel anxious. Just tight enough to make you squirm, feel trapped and under control of the man above you.

“Colour Princess.”

There was the tone, the tone he always seemed to get when the two of you were in play.

“G-Green Daddy…”

“It's not too tight, is it?”

You just shook your head this time, unable to look him in the eye. Not that he was looking at your face anyway. He was looking at the way your skin bulged a bit around the tape, at the way it hugged you perfectly. And of course at the pretty wet spot that already formed on your panties.

He pressed two fingers into the spot, making your back arch, a little string of whines leaving his lips.

“Look at Daddy while he’s talking to you, Baby.”

When his fingers pressed the material of your flimsy underwear between your lips you looked up at him, lips slightly hung open and eyes a little glassy. He had barely touched you.

And yet you already felt so hot, so needy.

“Think m’gonna make you cum first before fuckin this pretty cunt, since you’re so excited already.”

“N-No Daddy, just wanna be fucked…” You did, you really needed him. Plus you were embarrassed to see how fast you’d come undone under him right now if he tried to make you cum.

You had a feeling you wouldn't be lasting long.

“Too bad baby, Daddy wants to see how fast you come undone.” Sly bastard, it’s like he knew you better than you knew yourself.

His thick fingers were still petting along your slit, adding a bit more pressure so the material would push into your clit. It had you crying out, eyes flutter as you tried to pull away,

Only to be held in place by the tape.

“So sensitive…” Issei murmured more to himself than you, his pupils blown out wide at the way your slick seemed to just pool over his digits with barely any effort. He was taking his time, despite the way his cock was throbbing within his boxers. He peeled the slick material from between your lower lips, tucking them off to the side and bringing his face closer to your cunt.

Your face was burning up, little whines and whimpers of protest leaving you as he wedged his large palms under your ass, hoisted you up a bit so his warm breath blew against your pussy.

It made your hole clench up, made him groan.

“Fuck…” He sighed, pressing his tongue flat against your center. When he slowly dragged his tongue along you his cock jumped at the noises you made, high pitched and sweet.

Nothing like he’d ever heard before. Thank god for the bondage tape.

“Hold still, oh wait…” He trailed off with a chuckle, his words mumbled into your cunt.

“D-Daddy--” You tried to talk back to him, but it was pointless when his mouth latched around your clit. You gasped, body unable to squirm very much due to the tape. It pinched at your skin, only adding to the tingles that travelled over your skin as Matsukawa continued to suckle on your clit. He released it with a soft pop, eyes hooded as he dipped his tongue into your clenching hole.

“D-Daddy~!” Your eyes were wide, tears rushing to them faster than usual as your orgasm left like it was ripped away from you. It hit you so fast, making you twitch and sob as Issei lewdly slurped you up.

He didn’t bother being quiet about it, rather he was just too excited. He licked up your puffy lips, laughing into your skin yet again.

“Holy shit, that was fucking fast….” He lifted his head a bit, lips and chin already shiny with a mix of his drool and your arousal. “So fucking hot…”

You wouldn’t even retort, blinking the tears from your eyes and trying to comprehend how already finished. How you could easily come again despite the way your skin was throbbing.

It's like all your senses were heightened, uncontrollable. It was almost too much.

Issei eased your rear back onto the bed, his own breath a bit ragged as he watched the way your skin twitched, how your muscles gently contracted from being held firm by the tape.

He grabbed a handful of your hair, pressing his lips to yours in a sloppy kiss that had both of you groaning. It was embarrassing, tasting yourself on his tongue as it pushed past yours. Your lips felt bruised when he pulled away, the string of saliva slapping back against your lower lip making you whimper softly at him.

“Can’t believe you came already, dirty little slut. So excited to be tied up and used, is that it?”

Your core clenched, lower lip wobbling a bit. “I-I…”

“And you didn’t even ask to cum, did you get stupid the moment I taped you up huh?”

“Daddy~!” Your voice cracked in the middle, Issei loved it.

He slapped three fingers into your clit, once, twice, the third time making your back arch off the bed as much as you could, a bit of drool slipping off your lip.

“My stupidly sweet baby… god I needa fuck you now,” Issei was easily losing his patience, quick to kick off his boxers. You could have drooled, watching the way his cock sprung free, how his tip was red and swollen and covered in a thin layer of pre.

Your whines were rising in volume now, cunt clenching around nothing, just begging to be filled.

It made Mattsun grin, one hand rubbing along his shaft while the other picked up the tape again.

“Gunna gag you now baby since you can’t keep that pretty mouth shut.”

He wasn’t wrong, and the idea of being gagged, left completely under his mercy only made you more vocal, little pleas and whimpers slipping past your lips.

He ripped a piece of the tape with his teeth, humming softly as he brought it close to your lips. He held it just over, watching the way you fell silent, the way your lower lips seemed to tremble in anticipation.

You were such a whore, and he loved it.

“How do you tell Daddy to stop when your gagged baby.” Despite his excitement and yours, your safety was always a priority. Your words were so soft, barely above a whisper as you stared at the piece of tap hovering over your lips.

“T-Three taps Daddy, three taps with my foot.”

“Good girl.” He hummed it out as he finally smoothed the tape over your lips. He groaned softly, pressing it into your skin with his thumb. You tried out a moan, pleased with how it muffled into the tape.

Issei leaned back onto his hunches, admiring his work. Admiring the way your skin pinched under the tape, how your thighs were already dampened in your own arousal, how you looked up at him with doe eyes that were basically begging him to fuck you.

All while squirming, muffling into the red tape. He could have taken a picture.

The twitching of his cock brought him back to reality, using one hand to give his base a few quick tugs. He eased himself into position, rubbing the head of his cock along your slick folds. That alone had both of you moaning, your warm cunt easily sucking him in as he pushed in.

Despite the way you had already came, despite the way you were soaked, it was still the perfect squeeze every time. It made a groan rumble from Issei’s chest, his fingers digging into the skin of your plush thighs.

“Fuck babygirl. This princess cunt of yours is always so tight, so fucking perfect for me.” He gritted out through clenched teeth, pushing in all the way until his balls were pushed up against your ass. He looked at your face, the way your lashes were already brimmed with tears just from him filling you up.

“I know baby, Daddy’s so big, stings a little every time huh?” He murmured softly, his thumb quick to cup your face, swipe away at fat tears under your eyes. You nodded, muffling into the tape as you leaned into his touch.

It only took a few moments for you to adjust, your cunt signally to Matsukawa you were ready when it gave his cock a tight squeeze.

He hissed softly under his breath, his palm leaving your face to rest against the tape that bound wrists together. His fingers were long enough to brush over your palm, giving the sweaty skin a gentle tap.

“If it becomes too much, squeeze Daddy’s fingers.” That was his last word of warning before he started to pull back out of you. His cock was already covered in a thin layer of your slick, the dim lighting of the room making his cock shiny as he pulled it out to the tip. He gave you one last grin before he fucked into you.

And his pace was ruthless, starting quick and hard right off the bat. It made your eyes widened, a choked moan being muffled into the gag as he thrust into your warm, welcoming walls. His balls patted against your ass with each push, the sound echoing in your ears as you trembled, your body being pressed further into the mattress with each push of his hips.

“Perfect fuckin cunt, god I love this sweet cunny.” He cooed at you, unable to hold back the condensing tone as he watched your eyes struggle to stay open, watched the way tears already began to rim your lashes yet again.

He angled his hips a bit, enough so the head of his cock would brush against the gummy spot within your walls. It had you seeing stars, back arching the best you could while being bound.

“Fuck yea.” His words came out a soft growl, sweating dripping from his curls and over one of his thick brows as he pistoned into you over and over. He was addicted, addicted to the squeeze of your cunt, the way your hot walls sucked him in. The way it leaked around his cock.

And he was addicted to the way your body strained against the tape, how it would reflect the dim lighting and make you look like a pretty shiny toy.

All for him.

“Gunna fuck this cunt full, is that what you want baby, want Daddy to stuff this pretty princess pussy of yours? Fuck, maybe I’ll even tape it up after, so you’ll stay full all night long.”

That had your walls fluttering in excitement, a high-pitched whine leaving you at the idea of being stuffed full and plugged up by him. He actually laughed this time, fuck it was so cute just how dirty you became, how easily you’d agree to all his naughty ideas.

He was so lucky.

His balls tightened up, a sign that his orgasm was approaching. He gave your clit a playful smack with two fingers, making your eyes snap back open to look him in the eye, body jolting into his touch.

“That's it, look at me. Need ya to come with me, baby. C'mon, make a mess of Daddy’s cock.”

He spits on the tips of his fingers before bringing them back to your clit, rubbing firm circles into the pulsing bud. You would have sobbed his name if you could, your body trembling uncontrollably as the pleasure washed over you quickly yet again.

Your vision went white, stars fogging your gaze when the second high hit. The squeeze of your cunt had Matsukawa groaning out your name, his hips stilling with a slight tremble as his balls emptied. One, two, three ropes of thick cum filled you up, painting your fluttering walls white.

Your chest rose and fell at a shaky pace as you tried to catch your breath through your nose, blinking the tears from your eyes. You didn’t even notice Issei’s fingers on your face until he was peeling away the tape from your lips.

There was barely any sting, but your lips were a bit swollen when they were finally free. You ran your tongue over them, your voice coming out a bit raspy.

“Daddy…”

“I know baby, you did so well for me, my good girl.”

He was quick to silence your whines with his mouth, pressing lazy kisses gently against your swollen lips as he reached out for the scissors. He shushed you as he trimmed away at the tape, showering you in praise that had you calming.

The last piece of tape was cut away from your skin he sighed out softly, giving you a soft smile. His eyes trailed over the subtle marks left behind by the tape, the indication that you had been bound by him.

Yea, he had to make sure to buy at least another three rolls.

“You okay baby, tell me your colour.” His voice had gone soft now, along with his cock, which still sat snuggly between your walls. He knew you liked it like this, when he stayed inside of you to keep all the warmth in.

“Green daddy, felt so good…” You rolled your now free wrists, sighing as you worked the numbing muscles. Once the tingling had gone away in your fingers you brought your hands up to his face, cupping his face gently.

“Felt really really good. Jesus.”

He smirked at you, pressing a kiss into your palm.

“Oh I know, you creamed around my cock.”

“Issei!” You could feel your face heat up, unable to hold back the embarrassment that fluttered in your chest. He just laughed in return, pressing gentle kisses all along your sweaty face.

“M’playin baby… but you really did make a mess. Now I know if I really wanna get my baby going, I just have to wrap her up like the perfect present she is.”

[scaryscarecrows]

Alright. So first of all, Jason (+ Squad), how would they react to Beldams? Like from Coraline?

Second of all, Arkham Knight (pre-reveal) and squad somehow winding up under Arkham (like there are tunnels or whatever under it, right? I feel like there would be.) and Arkham Knight is leading them out because he knows exactly where he is, but like. He knows where he is and he’s not doing great because of that. And squad is concerned, bc the Boss is… rattled. Visibly. Maybe it comes out that he was in fact, kept here for a while… Idk I just want some hurt/comfort with Jason and this idea has NOT left my head. I don’t think anyone would be okay in that situation, J least of all…

Also do you like getting asks like this or nah?

BEFORE WE GET INTO THIS

Yes, I do! Also, feel to explore these concepts yourself; imaginative exercises, whether or not they get written down, are good for the brain.

2. Coraline is a book people should definitely read, but don't do what I did, which is experience it at around eleven years old, at three AM, with a high fever. Or do, but it's your own fault if you're scarred after. Maybe read with a stuffed animal...but honestly, that didn't help me any, so maybe it doesn't matter.

Regarding the Beldam

Honestly, the amount of variables to this question makes it its own gargantuan nightmare of a timeline with several offshoots. Individually? Everyone has a 50/50 chance of ending up in the Naughty Ghost Closet. As a group? Pardon my French, but that bitch is toast. (Garage Tapes' Scarecrow is something like the Beldam. Jason is the only one to cross his path at this point, and he had the good sense to leave him alone after that.)

Regarding the Nightmare That is Arkham

(This is pre-game. Jason is maybe eighteen at this point.)

"Where does this even go--ow! Motherfucker!"

"Oh, yeah, sorry, there's a slope," Jimmy says, hisses a second later when Trent flicks him in the back of the head. "Fuck off, it's not my fault you're a giant!"

"My forehead is gonna be black!"

"That's a you problem!"

"Quiet," the boss snaps from the front, and they shut up. Nobody else has any idea where they are and while they're...pretty sure...the Knight won't abandon them in the dark, creepy tunnel, there's no real guarantee.

They found said tunnel completely on accident, while sifting through rubble near the ruined mall. It hadn't, at least, been a bad 80s movie moment of 'floor gives way, everyone falls down screaming', but it had been really close; one minute Riley was there, and the next he wasn't, so of course they'd all clambered down after him. He's fine, just bumps and bruises, but there'd been a passageway, which had to be investigated.

That was a while ago now. The tunnel is damp and dark and vines are crawling through the walls. It's definitely man-made, not from the earthquake, but nobody's been down here for years.

There's the tell-tale chunk-chunk of a locked door being tried and Trent rolls his shoulders before squeezing his way to the front.

"Want me to get it, boss?"

The door is sturdy metal. The Knight tilts his head in that way that says he's displeased with its existence before stepping aside.

"Yes."

BAM!

The door flies off its hinges. It leads not into another passageway, but into a room; a small, square room with white tiled floors. The tiles are chipping away, and a broad flashlight beam shows the stain of dried blood in the middle of the room.

A rusty surgical cart sits off to the side, next to an equally rusty wheelchair that's gently draped in half-rotted rope and barbed wire. An empty bucket lies on its side nearby, and a little ways away is a car battery.

"Fuck," Trent breathes. "This is some sicko's torture room."

"You sure?" Jimmy asks, reaching up to adjust his glasses. "Maybe it's...uh..."

"Dude." Trent gives him a flat stare. "I'm sure."

"Uh. Are they gonna come back?"

"No." The Knight's voice is cold as ice. "No, he's long gone. Let's keep moving."

"Sir?"

"Now."

And then he's gone, striding up a set of narrow stairs. Riley shrugs and follows after him, but Mark nudges the surgical cart with his boot.

"What the hell happened down here?"

"Do you want an answer?"

"No."

"You heard the boss, let's go, let's go." Antoine makes a shooing motion. "'Sides, it's creepy down here."

The boss is waiting for them in a hallway. At least they're back above ground...

"Where are we?"

He doesn't answer, preferring instead to turn on his heel and keep going, steps just shy of a light jog.

The hallway is also tiled. The vines are here, too, coming through kicked-out vents and cracks in the walls and curling around crapped-out loudspeakers and televisions.

"Some kind of hospital," Frank says lowly. "I bet you money this is some kind of hospi--"

"Arkham Asylum," the Knight spits, and modulator or no, his voice is tight, borderline panicked. "This is Arkham Asylum, which was destroyed and shut down after yet another incident with Batman and the Joker."

"That was here?" Antoine does a quick shuffle-dance to dodge a very large, very bold rat crossing the floor. "Shit." Riley elbows him and makes an inquisitive gesture. "Dude, it was all over the news. The clown guy got, like. Mutated. Got real big and grew claws and shit. It was creepy."

"Un. Understatement of the year." The dry chuckle turns to a sharp noise. "We shouldn't be here."

That really doesn't help. There's a running...it's either a joke or a theory, but either way, everybody says the Knight would backtalk God, the Devil, and any other deity unfortunate enough to be nearby.

"You okay, sir?"

"Fine. Let's just move."

It's a lie.

They let him have it.

At least, until they round a corner and stumble upon a mummified body with an unnatural grin stretching across its oddly pale face. It's creepy, sure-nobody ever likes tripping over a surprise corpse, after all-but something about it stops him in his tracks.

"What the fuck?" Mark elbows his way to the body and crouches down. Before anybody can stop him, he pokes it.

This is a mistake.

The body lurches. Makes an odd coughing noise. And splits, hundreds upon hundreds of shiny black beetles swarming from the mouth and the ears and the eye sockets.

"Shit!" Trent grabs Mark by the collar and the Knight by the waist and hauls them both back from the shimmering, hissing mass. "What the fuck, what the fuck, what the fuck--"

"Just--" Antoine shoves them towards a door. "Get away from that thing."

"No shit--"

"Now."

This room looks like it might have been an operating room; it's wide open and there's what's left of a doctor schedule on the wall. Trent sets Mark and the Knight back down, Mark cursing all the while.

"--kidding me, goddamn Mummy bullshit, I always hated that movie--"

"Sir?" Antoine waves a hesitant hand in front of the helmet. "You, uh, you okay in there?"

The Knight, for a moment, is very still. Not even a twitch. But then there's a noise in the hallway and he flinches, scrambles away from the door muttering, "Not again not again not again not again--"

"What's going on--"

"S'he drugged or something?"

"We've had eyes on him the whole time, there's no way--"

"Shut up. All of you." Antoine's tone leaves no room for argument. "Sweep the room, make sure there's no more weird shit in here. Frank, you're with me. Trent...maybe don't wander too far."

It's a good plan. It goes out the window when the Knight rips his helmet off and sinks to his knees, arms wrapping tight around his ribs. He's not crying, he's just gasping; the heavy, ragged breaths of someone trying and failing to gain control.

Frank kneels in front of him, reaches out to tip his head up.

The man-teenager, Jesus, that's--that's Robin, that's the kid with the brand and the Joker and--Jesus-is staring into space with glassy blue eyes. He's not seeing them, that much is obvious.

"Hey," Frank finally chokes out. "Hey. Come on back now, sir. You're all right. You're all right."

"N-no, no..."

"Yeah. You're all right, there is no more. Just an empty building. Come on, now, look at me, come on..."

"Mark," Antoine says quietly, "knock him out. We need to get him out of here.*"

"You sure?"

"If he's pissed, I'll own up."

"Fine."

"You're okay," Frank's still soothing, even as Mark comes up and around with a syringe. "You're okay. Just match my breathing, okay? One, two, three, four..."

He doesn't notice the needle, and it isn't very long before he blinks, tired and spent, and rasps, "Clyde?"

"Hey. You back with us?"

"I don't feel so good," he murmurs, and that's the warning they get before he passes out.

Trust me. I was a desert worker for two years after Z.Z., and the first time I traipsed back into a jungle after, I had to be carried out because I...went a little catatonic. :/ It was bad.-Antoine

[raindownforme]

Hey! I’m back with another request!

Reader and Ted practicality have all the same classes and whenever they have to do projects or work in pairs Ted without fail or shame is always like “Can she work with me! Please!” Even in front of the class So he can flirt with her during the project

She/her pronouns pls :D

Also I LOVED ORBITING JUPITER I NEVER HEAR ANYONE TALK ABOUT IT

An Ode to You

Ted Nivison x reader [she/her used]

The teacher, Mrs. Statham, smacked a stack of papers on her rolling cart. She lined the edges of them up to make it straight, then held the stack in her off arm. She turned to face the class, smiling kindly as she stood tall in her professional shoes.

“This week, we’re starting a project. You and a partner will be writing poetry based on prompts and discussing your different styles of writing. Your partner will be randomly assigned-“ the class groaned, some shutting books in protest. “Hey. It’s 9am, you think I want this either?” The class grew quiet. “Exactly. Now, I’m pulling names from a hat. First is…”

y/n leaned into her open palm, closing her eyes for a moment. She could hear students shuffling around their chairs, tennis ball covered legs scraping the cheap cement. She ran a hand through her hair, leaning back to stretch her back over the cheap school chair.

“YES.” Someone stood quickly in the opposite corner of the room, the scraping and falling sound of the chair making y/n jump. She opened her eyes to see her classmate Ted standing up in the corner with his arms upright in a cheering motion. He smiled widely, looking over towards y/n. He quickly realized his outburst, dropping his arms and pushing his glasses further onto his face. “Should I pick up that chair?”

“Yes, Ted. Then go move over to your partner.” Mrs. Statham shook her head, going back to the task she’d been working on before hand. Ted gathered his things, placing the chair back to where it belonged, and headed across the classroom to where y/n sat. He pulled the chair next to her out and sat down, smiling widely.

“Hey, come here often?”

y/n rolled her eyes, trying to hide a small smile. “Good morning Ted.”

“Good morning gorgeous.” Ted looked away from y/n, sorting through his backpack for a spiral notebook and a mechanical pencil. He turned back to y/n, intending to say something, but Mrs. Statham spoke first.

“All partners have been assigned. On the board are types of poetry and some one-word prompts. Yes you and your partner must pick the same type of poem and prompt. If you have any questions, I’ll be up here grading. Go ahead.”

The students began chattering as Mrs. Statham went to her desk. y/n huffed, staring at the board. She wasn’t well-versed on types of poetry, and the list was quite long.

“How about an Ode? You know like an Ode to something?” Ted gestured with his pencil as he talked. “I’ll let you pick the category.”

“An Ode to…” y/n scanned the board, looking for the right word. “Does that say darling?”

“No?” Ted squinted as he looked at the board as well. “I think it says daring. But I like darling! An ode to darling.”

y/n smiled, turning to begin writing in her own notebook. The rest of the lesson went on with only a few scattered comments from Ted.

“What color are your eyes?”

y/n looked up at him, confused. “Why?”

“Never mind I got it.” Ted furiously scratched at his paper, y/n returning to her own.

“What season is your favorite would you say?”

“Fall.” y/n set down her pencil, smiling kindly at Ted. “I like the leaves and it’s usually a nice temperature out. You?”

“I’m a late spring early summer kind of guy.” Ted taped his pencil over and over in a slow rhythm he could only hear in his head. “I mean, unless you have a pollen allergy.”

“Why?”

“I can’t take you out if you’ll be sneezing and coughing the whole time. I don’t know, maybe the fall could be a good time.” Ted waved like he was getting rid of an idea. “I’ll figure it out.”

“Okay?” y/n thought to herself for a moment, then ignored Ted’s question to go back to her work.

“Hey what’s your-“ Ted was cut short by the ringing of the school bell. He groaned dramatically as y/n stood to gather her things. “No! Stop.”

“Why?” y/n didn’t stop, instead zipping her bag shut and throwing it over her shoulder. Ted grabbed onto the edge of her shirt, tugging slightly.

“I don’t want you to go.”

“Ted, I have a class across the school. I’ll see you tomorrow.” y/n gently pulled her shirt from Ted’s grasp. He sighed, standing up.

“Fine. Let me walk you there at least?”

It took Ted all of a minute to gather his things. He shouldered his back pack and led y/n out of the classroom. He let his hand fall to his side, gently taking y/n’s middle finger and wrapping his own finger around it. He looked down at her, smiling softly, and held on tighter when she showed no sign of discomfort.

The two walked in silence across the school, taking y/n to her science class. Ted stopped her before she walked in, keeping her finger is his grasp. “Can I see you later?”

“Ted, we have class tomorrow. I’ll see you then.” y/n patted him in the arm, politely excusing her self. She watched him walk backwards down the hall, and turned to walk into the class.

“I’ll be thinking of you!” She rolled her eyes at Ted’s outburst, avoiding the peering eyes of her classmates.

———

The next few days continued the same way; Ted endlessly flirting while y/n write her ode. The writing came easy to her. She wrote about the stars, about the constellations and the night sky. It was a basic topic she knew, but it was easy to write about and it fit the prompt. She wasn’t sure what Ted had written about, but by now everyone had finished their poems, and it was time to present.

“Alright, Ted and y/n?” Mrs. Statham sat behind her desk, yawning into her mug of tea. “Please state your type and prompt.”

“We chose an Ode, and I miss read the prompt so instead of daring we chose darling?”

She nodded, keeping her eyes on the grading sheet in front of her. “I like it. Go ahead.”

y/n cleared her throat. She looked over at Ted, waiting to see who would go first. He gestured to her, offering her to go first while smiling kindly. Oddly enough, for it being the first class of the day, Ted seemed to be the most awake in the classroom.

“For darkness around you, a pattern to make do…” y/n read robotically from the sheet of paper in front of her. The poem lasted only ten seconds, letting her quickly set it aside and awkwardly smile at her classmates. There was light clapping from the crowd, complimentary almost.

“Very good.” Mrs. Statham scribbled on the grading sheet with a blue pen. “And what was that called again?”

“An Ode to the Stars.”

“Thank you. Ted you’re next?”

Ted nodded eagerly, straightening himself. He smoothed down the front of his shirt and looked expectantly at Mrs. Statham. “Do I-“

“There are no extra credit points for memorization. However, if you’d like to, go ahead.”

“Thank you.” Ted turned back to y/n, smiling widely. “I’m encaptured in your loving stare; My darling girl, my lady, fair.”

Ted went on for a long minute, leaving y/n a flustered mess. Every stanza, Ted found a new way to look at her. A new way to gesture to her. A new way to emphasize the lines he spoke. And after that long minute, the class fell silent for a moment before clapping loudly for Ted’s display.

“Thank you both. Class, did we notice any differences in Ted and y/n’s writing?”

Someone y/n didn’t know the name of put their hand upwards, prompting Mrs. Statham to call on them. “Well, y/n wrote about an object, Ted wrote about a person.”

“Good. Is there anything else we can infer class?”

“Oh!” Someone in the back classroom sat up straighter as they shouted out. y/n couldn’t quite see who it was. “y/n wrote kind of factual? Like things that we could all see. But Ted sees the person differently than we’d normally… perceive them?”

“Yeah. Exactly. Alright good job you two, go ahead and take your seats.”

Ted followed y/n to the shared desk in the far corner of the classroom. Another set of students went up to present theirs, and y/n kept her eyes glued forward on the pair, avoiding looking at Ted.

“I really liked yours.” Ted leaned over to whisper in her ear. She jumped a bit, surprised by how close he sat. “I think it was beautiful.”

“Thanks.” y/n chewed at the inside of her lip. “What was yours called again?”

“An Ode to You.”

“Sorry?” y/n tried to swallow the heat rising to her face, trying to not be flustered in front of Ted.

“It’s called An Ode to You.”

“To me?”

“No— well.” Ted twirled a pencil around in his finger tips. “It’s called An Ode to You, not like An Ode to y/n, I mean technically it is about you-“

“Me? What, are you flirting?”

Someone snorted in the seat in front of y/n and Ted. “You just noticed?”

y/n watched Ted’s face turn bright red. “I mean, they’re right. You just noticed?”

“I assumed it was a joke.”

“Why would I be joking?” Ted looked at y/n with concern etched across his face.

“I don’t know! Are you not joking?”

“No.” Ted very gently took y/n’s hand in his. “y/n, my darling. I would never joke about you.”

“Well Ted, honey, it’s 9am and you’re flirting with a tired teenager.”

“Can I flirt with you some other time?”

“Yes.” y/n yawned, stretching her arms upwards. “Any other time.”

“Tonight then? 7 o’clock?”

“Why 7-?” y/n stopped, her face becoming increasingly heated as the realization came to her. “A date? You want to take me on a date?”

The school bell rang and Ted stood from the desk, placing a folded piece of paper in front of y/n. “Text me, I’ll come pick you up.”

She watched Ted walk away, then looked down at the paper. On it read a phone a number that she assumed belonged to ted. When she unfolded it, however, was a hand written poem with a title reading, An Ode to y/n.

[cowboycakes]

Hi! ur writing is incredible and i saw that requests were open and i just had to go for it. could you possible write a ReinerxFem! reader where she’s really seriously injured and tries to hide it from everyone, until she passes out in Reiner’s arms (cliche i’m sorry) and he’s just SO mad at himself for not noticing before and he’s so worried and he cares for the reader so much while she’s unconscious and after she wakes up? Just like so much fluff and angst and Reiner being a guilty fucker as he is but also like extremely protective and caring? Sorry it’s so specific. Thank you!🥺❤️

Thank you so much! I hope you enjoy this fluffy little piece!

Tender Loving Care 

Pairing: Reiner Braun x fem!Reader

Themes: Fluff, angst, hurt/comfort, Reiner’s guilty ass 

Warnings: Reader uses she/her pronouns, severe injury/blood and bleeding/recovery, fainting, hospital setting, profanity

Word Count: 1.5k

You stumble into the medical tent, plopping your sweaty body down on a cot. Dirt covered hands rummage through a med kit until they come across a bundle of white bandages. You form them tightly around your thigh, applying pressure that you hoped would stop the bleeding. You’d really messed up on the mission today, completely misfiring your ODM gear when the first titan came into view. Your legs hit a tree branch, hard. Nerves would often get the best of you like that.

And now you’re left with the consequence - a giant gash. The sight of it made you feel faint. Blood wouldn’t cease to seep through the mesh material surrounding your wound, even after rewrapping it a few times.

You pack some extra gauze into it before trying to stand up and go to find the rest of the group. Before you take your first step, the tent door flies open. 

“I’ve been looking everywhere for you! What’s wrong?” Reiner shouts, rushing over to your side. 

You secretly relished in the feeling of him worrying for you sometimes. 

This whole dynamic between the two of you began from a chance pairing in some training exercises. Reiner had played the cocky tough guy at first, trying to show off and take over every exercise the two of you were supposed to do together. This irritated you to no end, obviously. Your solution was to get under his skin: make him laugh, tease him and poke at him until that hard headed exterior of his cracked. With time, it eventually did, revealing a big softie who cared for you more than he’d like to admit. 

“Just me folding under pressure. The usual,” you sigh, taping your bandages down, “it’s just a scratch.”

“Don’t lie, let me see it,” he says gently, crouching down in front of you to inspect your injury. 

“No!” you laugh as you press a hand onto your bandage, “I’m perfectly fine! We need to get going, anyway.”

Reiner looks up to you, unimpressed. He could always see right through your fibs. You smile guiltily at him as he stands up. 

“I’m not convinced that’s just a scratch,” Reiner mumbles.

“Sure it is! Just watch,” you declare as you walk toward the exit. 

You couldn’t hide your limp. 

“Nope. Absolutely not,” Reiner interrupts. He stands in front of you and motions for you to get on his back. You sigh, but reluctantly climb on anyway. 

You loop your arms around his neck as he moves his hands to support your thighs, being extra careful around your injury. 

The pain wasn’t getting any duller, even though you weren’t trying to walk now. You lay your cheek down on Reiner’s shoulder as his big strides carried you toward the horse and cart that was set to take everyone back to headquarters. Your body goes limp on the short journey, feet dangling and heavy eyes closing. 

Reiner gently sets you down beside him whenever you two reach your ride. He instinctively puts a big arm around your sore shoulders, pulling your body in close to his warm chest. 

“That better just be a scratch, or you’re never gonna hear the end of it,” Reiner teases, squeezing your arm. 

You huff in response, closing your eyes again. 

The rest of the group eventually arrives at the cart - most of them as sweaty and beat up as you were. However, you were feeling weaker by the minute. 

“Woah, y/n, you ok? You look pale...” you hear Annie question as she boards the cart.

You look down to your leg, quick to cover it with your hands before Reiner could see. Blood had made its way through your bandaging again.

“Yeah, I’m just fine,” you laugh nervously, “thanks Annie.”

You weren’t fine. You were becoming increasingly lightheaded - feeling yourself break into a cold sweat as your breathing becomes shallow.

The cart eventually starts to move, its wooden wheels creaking as it makes its way over the bumpy path home. You try to focus on the scenery moving around you, but your vision is too blurred. 

The state of your body was now making you nervous. You decide to close your eyes and lean your head against Reiner’s chest, gripping a sweaty hand on the back of his shirt, trying to ground yourself.  He rubs his hand up and down your arm slowly in response, calming you down a bit.

“We’re almost home. I’ll get you feeling better once we’re there, ok?” Reiner says.

“Ok…” you smile, beginning to feel yourself fade in and out a bit.

The cart finally comes to a halt. Reiner stands up before you and helps your woozy legs to straighten with the support of his hand in yours. He steps off the wooden cart first, opening his arms up so he could pick you up again. 

“Reiner, I’m okay,” you say, letting go of his hand, “promise.”

You look down at the dusty ground from your position on the cart, now standing completely unassisted.

Ok, just a small step, right? Three feet at most. Just move your foot forward, out into the abyss below the cart. 

Suddenly, your vision is a mere tunnel, blackness encroaching rapidly from the outsides of your eyes. Your body is in free fall, no longer under control of your mind. 

The last thing you sense is a pair of big arms catching you princess style. 

••••••••

“Dammit!” Reiner hisses, turning fast on his heels toward the infirmary. He’s quick to dodge the other scouts walking away from the cart, moving as fast as he could while keeping your limp body still in his arms. 

I’m always so fucking oblivious. Why do I ever listen to her? Always trying so hard to make sure she’s not being a burden. Of course she was lying to me, why couldn’t I have just taken better care of her from the start?

He slides through the infirmary front doors, alerting some nurses behind the desk of your condition. He keeps you tight in his arms as they swiftly guide you to a room. You let out a little groan once he sets you down on the hospital cot. 

God dammit. This is all my fault. Damn I can’t stand to see her face like this, all tensed up - she must be in so much pain. Shit, I am not about to tear up right now. 

Nurses rush over to you, quick to put you on some fluids and start sewing up your leg. Your condition quickly stabilizes, allowing the nurses to give you some much needed time to sleep off your injuries. 

Reiner insisted on taking over the nurses' duties after that point. Big, gentle hands would change out your bandaging every so often, along with keeping cold rags on your head and holding your hand when looks of discomfort appeared on your face. In his mind, it was the least he could do to subdue his guilt - to make it up to you.

He sat there all night, a big nervous mess in the chair he pulled up next to you. He hated getting so emotional like this, especially around someone who he needed to believe he was invincible. Luckily for him, you were still sleeping like a baby, unaware of his concerns. 

You finally open your groggy eyes early in the morning - the sun hasn't even peaked over the horizon yet. Your unfocused gaze wanders to the side of the bed. 

There he is - his head sits in his hand as he stares out the dark window from his chair. His short blonde hair is disheveled, probably from nervous hands running through it all night. Dark circles encompass his upper cheeks. He clearly hadn’t slept a wink.

“Hey,” you whisper.

Reiner jumps a little bit from his daze, quickly turning to look at you. He lets out a long sigh of relief, wiping a hand down his tense face.

“You had me worried sick,” he grumbles. You hum in response, a sleepy smile accidentally forms across your cheeks.

He half-smiles back, studying the sweet look on your face, “I’m just glad you’re alright.”

“Did you sleep?” you question.

He blushes a little, “You don’t need to be worrying about me, y/n.”

You scoot over on your cot, pulling the sheets down to expose a little spot for him to lay. His eyes get wide, darting back and forth between you and the empty half of the bed a few times.

He gets up from his chair quietly and makes his way to your bed, sliding under the white sheets and placing his tired head on the pillow. You move in close, placing your head in the nook between his chest and his bicep. A muscular arm wraps around your waist as his head leans over to rest against yours.

The two of you lay together in the silence of the hospital, chests rising and falling at slowing rates. You felt completely at ease now, knowing all the lengths Reiner had gone to in order to keep you safe.

“You know, once I wake up,” he yawns, his words becoming slower and slower as sleep creeps over him, “you're never… gonna… hear… the end of it.”

[bigasswritingmagnet]

Seek a Little Strange and Unusual

Fandom: Psychonauts Pairing: None Characters: Caligosto Loboto, Chloe Barge Summary: One day at the grocery store, Loboto overhears two parents discussing their...problem child. It's a very familiar sounding conversation. He may not understand why, but he won't let history repeat itself. Chloe isn't particularly fond of her human caretakers. The dentist who smuggled her out of the store is strange...but so is she. And he, at least, understands the importance of space helmets on alien planets.

[don’t make tumblr funnyposts about headcanons guys because you WILL become attached to them]

Cucumbers, lighter fluid, toothpaste, apple sauce, quick rise yeast, mineral oil...

Almost everything! All that was left was condiments. Except...had he written ketchup, or catsup? Did it matter? Of course it mattered, they were totally different things! Weren't they? Well, they had different names.

Lobot stared between the bottle of catsup and the scribbled list, trying to read his own handwriting.

"No, no! Put it down--Chloe put that down right now." 

Ooooh, drama! He loved drama. Loboto poked his head around the corner of the aisle in time to see a small child standing on their tiptoes, arms outstretched to the cereal boxes on the upper shelf. A brightly colored box of sugar pretending to be a nutritious breakfast was wrapped in a purple glow and descending, slowly. 

A woman materialized next to the girl. Her face was tight with anger and she snatched the box out of the air. Shoving it back on the shelf she hissed "What did I tell you? How many times do I have to say it, Chloe! Don't do that! Especially not in public! And I told you take that stupid helmet off when we're in the store!"

The child's response was unintelligible, muffled by the space helmet they were indeed wearing. He wondered what the big deal was. It wasn't the 1940's; nobody cared if you wore a hat in public anymore. Just look at him! He was wearing his showercap and no one had said a word! They just left the aisle as soon as they saw him.

“Take it off, now!” 

A man appeared and grabbed the woman's arm.

"Keep your voice down, people are going to come see what the fuss is."

The woman rounded on him, her expression one of frantic desperation. 

"I can't do this anymore."

I just don’t care anymore.

"I can't deal with this, the helmet and the moving things around--!"

He’s a monster!

"I know, I know--"

Soon we’ll be free of this devil child.

"I don’t know how much longer I can put up with this! If I have to deal with one more dismantled radio, one more time trying to get her to take it off for company, one more bent spoon--"

Every! Spoon! Bent!

"I've been asking around, and Johnson knows someone who can do a procedure that’ll fix her--"

They all agree on the diagnosis and what must be done.

He felt strange. Cold and hot and angry and...sad. The child didn't seem to notice the conversation. She was trying to float the cereal box back down again. She probably didn't understand what it all meant. She was young. Very young.

Younger than he had been.

He hadn't understood either, until it was too late.

The humans were arguing again. They were always arguing these days. Arguing about such petty problems, when they could be focusing on the whole galaxy around them. She ignored them. It wasn't like they listened to her anyway. How many times had she explained to the woman why she needed to wear the helmet whenever she left the hermetic seal of her room? It never mattered. 

The box of Chocolate Frosted Sugar Bombs landed gently in her hands. Excellent. She would slide it into the cart under the frozen peas. By the time they got to the cash register, the woman would be bound by social convention to make the purchase, or risk making a scene in front of the cashier.

Chloe still hadn't figured out what making a scene meant. The term was definitely in regards to public behavior, but was applied to anything from yelling in public to silent refusal to remove her helmet. Human rules were so strange and arbitrary.

The boxes in front of her rustled. Chloe tilted her head to one side. Odd. Sometimes things around her moved on their own, but usually she got that strange tingle in the back of her head when they did. She wasn't feeling it now.

The boxes of cereal parted, excess tumbling off the ends of the shelves. Two small lights gleamed in the newly made gap. One red, one green.

A metal claw shot out, grabbed Chloe by the shirt, and hauled her through.

She had half been expecting to be pulled into another dimension, but instead she was just in the next aisle. There was no time to feel disappointed before she was dumped unceremoniously in a grocery cart. Someone loomed over her, but Chloe only got the impression of blue skin and flowers before the stranger scooped up half a shelf's worth of bags of macaroni and dumped them on top of her.

It didn't hurt. She could breathe fine with her helmet protecting her face--see, she wanted to say, I told you I needed it--but she couldn't move very much. The cart rattled and bumped, one wheel squeaking obnoxiously. They paused briefly, and Chloe considered shouting for help, but didn't. She wanted to see where this was going.

So she stayed quiet and still, holding the box of cereal to her chest as a cheerful voice cried "No need to do your beeping scans! I know what I bought! Keep the change!"

Then they were off again. The sounds around her changed as they left the store and rattle bumped their way through the parking lot. She heard a trunk open up, and decided now was a good time to figure out what was going on. She had no interest in riding with the groceries.

Chloe made the purple glow around her hands and pushed until the groceries around her lifted enough for her to move. She popped out from beneath the macaroni like a beach ball being released underwater.

The stranger was. Strange. Very tall. The lights Chloe had seen were his eyes--or rather, small tubes where his eyes should be. They twitched and turned independently of each other. He was smiling at her, and his smile seemed to stretch much, much further than most human smiles.

He was wearing a labcoat and a shower cap.

"Hello!" he said. "I'm going to kidnap you and raise you as my own so your parents can't stick an icepick in your brain to take away your psychic powers!" He tapped his chin, brow furrowing. One of his arms was made of metal, and ended in three claws. "Although I already did that first part, so...I have kidnapped you and am going to raise you as my own so that your parents can't stick an icepick in your brain to take away your psychic powers!"

Chloe considered this with some alarm. She didn't know what an icepick was, but she was sure she didn't want anything stuck in her brain. Psychic powers? Ah. That would explain the purple glow. Her caretakers had been very frustrated by it. But could she believe that they would stick things in her brain just so they could be less frustrated?

Yes. She could believe.

Her chest hurt. The macaroni was heavier than she first thought.

"Will you let me wear my helmet?" she asked.

"Of course!" He patted his showercap. "Headwear is a very important personal choice!

Chloe thought some more.

"This is acceptable," she said, and lifted her arms. The stranger stared at her. Neither of them moved for several seconds.

"What are you doing."

"You need to lift me up."

The stranger stuck his hands under her armpits and did so, holding his arms fully extended out in front of him. She dangled in the air, up, up, so high up, higher than she'd ever managed on a swing, and without the heavy weight of rope and swing seat to remind her she was pinned to this mudball planet. She felt weightless, floating, a dizzyingly wonderful feeling.

They stayed like that for several moments.

"Is this what parenting is?" the stranger asked. "It's a lot easier than they made it sound."

Chloe was so high up, her vision extended over the sea of cars, and she spotted her caretakers--former caretakers--rushing out of the grocery store, looking around wildly.

"Put me down," she said. She would have liked to stay up there for longer. For hours. Maybe she could get him to do it again later. The man used to do it all the time, before the arguing started. The stranger set her feet on the pavement, and began to toss the cart's contents into the trunk without any care for fragility. He did not seem particularly rushed or concerned, for all that he said he was kidnapping her. And wasn't kidnapping illegal?

The car was nothing like the sleek blue sedan her parents drove. The man washed it obsessively, and acted as if you had removed an organ if you so much as borrowed a single sparkplug, even if the project was important.

Not only did this car look as if it hadn't been washed, ever, it also looked like it might dissolve if you tried. It was mostly rust held together by duct tape. The car was decorated in strange patterns picked out by objects hot glued to the sides: rubber ducks, dice, plastic flowers, and many, many teeth. From the looks of it, mostly Odocoileus virginianus and Procyon lotor, although she had to wonder about some of the molars.  

"Chloe!" someone shouted. "Chloe, where are you!"

Chloe opened the door of the car and climbed inside. There was a moldy grey blanket on the car seat. She unfolded it and draped it over herself. It smelled like seaweed and toothpaste. She tried to look as much like a non-child lump as she could.

The trunk closed. Through the thin blanket she saw the shadow of the stranger--her new caretaker--lean over her. He wound all three seatbelts across her, pinning her to the seat.

"Safety first!" he said.

The car's engine whined and groaned and the calls got closer. They wouldn't be able to see her under the blanket. She was hidden. It was safe.

All the same, she felt a rush of relief when the engine finally growled to life. The car shot backwards and then came to an abrupt halt with a crash and the tinkle of glass. The seatbelts held her so fast Chloe didn't even move.

"Whoopsie!" the man said. The car lurched forwards and came to another abrupt halt with another crash. "Sorry!" Forward. Smash. "Oopsie daisy!" Back. Crash. "Almost got it!"

This time when the car sped forward, it did not stop, although Chloe did hear a scream and a bump as they turned a sharp corner.

"There we go!"

Chloe waited a few more minutes before working her arms free and pulling the blanket down from over her helmet. The car was zipping down the road, swerving violently between the other cars. In the space of three minutes they shot through two red lights. Her new caretaker was humming an offkey ditty to himself, as if he was taking a casual stroll through the park.

"Who are you?" Chloe asked.

"I am Dr Calligosto Loboto! The greatest dentist in the world!" He threw out an arm dramatically and his claws punctured the roof of the car. She could see many similar holes clustered in the same area.

"My name is Chloe. I hail from the planet Cygnus A."

"Ooooh, you're an alien! That explains the helmet! You better keep that thing on, I don't want you suffocating in our atmosphere!"

Chloe couldn't name the feeling in her chest, except that it was a good one.

"That's what I kept telling them! Just because I can breathe your air doesn't mean it doesn't have a detrimental effect on my lungs!"

"Of course!" the doctor said, genuinely annoyed. "That's Alien 101! Boy, your parents are weird."

"They aren't my parents," Chloe said, firmly. "They're my human caretakers. They were looking after me while I'm on the planet. Someday my real parents will return for me, and take me back to the home planet."

"Makes sense to me! I wonder if that makes this less of a felony."

[myriadimagines]

Chips and Orange Soda

Brooklyn Nine-Nine One Shot

Pairing: Reader x Jake Peralta

Other Characters: Raymond Holt, Rosa Diaz

Warnings: theft

Summary: When a series of bodegas are robbed, Holt assigns Jake and Rosa on the case. You, a cashier, become a suspect, but Jake has a gut feeling that you’re not a suspect at all. In fact, he thinks you’re the key to solving the case. 

Part Two: Chips and Orange Soda (part ii)

Word Count: 2,697

A/N: my submission for @locke-writes​​‘ writing challenge! i know everyone wanted me to post the whole fic at once but then it ended up being 5k+ words i made the executive decision that it was probably best for everyones sanity to split it up into 2 parts. think of it as a commercial break in the episode <3 i’m gonna disclaimer this by saying that i’m not a cop or in law enforcement. idk how this shit works. i tried my best but this isn’t legally accurate. anyway! based on the prompt: “You come here often?” “Well, I work here. So I think I’d have to say ‘yes’.” 

reblog/feedback/comments are very much appreciated!!!

“Not late! I’m not late!” Jake announces, rushing into the briefing room with his bag still slung over his shoulder. He ignores the eye rolls from Amy and Terry, and plops down in the seat Charles has saved for him. He leans back, dumping his bag on the floor as he tries to catch his breath, before noticing Holt’s disapproving stare. “I’m not! Look, I’m right on time!”

Jake points over at the clock hanging on the wall, and Holt glances over his shoulder before turning back to Jake. “You’re fifteen minutes late, Peralta. That clock broke down two days ago.”

Jake takes a proper look at the clock, which, sure enough, is frozen at three minutes past two o’clock. 

“Okay, well…” Jake cringes. “I had a flat tire?” 

“As I was saying,” Holt ignores Jake’s excuse, reorganizing the case files on the podium as the squad quickly focuses. Pulling up a few pictures on the television, Holt curtly explains, “Two bodegas were robbed last night, and we suspect it may be the same person, or group or people, who robbed the three bodegas last week. Thankfully, no one was injured, but we need to crack down on this case before it happens again.” 

The squad nods in agreement, and Amy taps her pen against the desk as she takes notes. Gesturing towards Rosa, Holt asks, “Diaz, you were investigating last week’s robberies. Where are you in solving the case?”

“Nowhere, sir.” Rosa begrudgingly admits, folding her arms across her chest as she shakes her head. “Forensics dusted the place for prints but found nothing, and the security footage was crap. Couldn’t pull any good images because it was so old. All I know is that it looks like at least two individuals are involved.” 

Holt slowly nods, pressing his lips together as he deliberates this. Pointing at Jake, he orders, “Conduct some interviews around the block, see if anyone saw anything. Perhaps you’ll have more luck this time. And take Peralta with you, you’ll be able to cover more ground. Everyone, you’re dismissed.” 

Jake looks over his shoulder to exchange a nod with Rosa before everyone gets to their feet. Holt closes up his file, and quickly stops Jake before he can leave the room, “Oh, and Jake?”

Jake pauses in the doorway. “Yes, sir?” 

“While you’re out, you can get some new batteries for the clock.” Holt points back at the defunct clock. Raising an eyebrow, Holt continues, “So next time, you can actually take a look at how late you are.” 

Beside him, Amy can’t help but snort at Jake’s expense, and he resists the urge to roll his eyes. 

—

Jake jogs over to the bodega, a cup of coffee in hand from the nearby food cart. He ducks under the police tape bordering the store, and he gingerly steps around the shattered glass scattered on the pavement. He can already see Rosa inside, taking off her sunglasses and hooking them on the collar of her shirt, and he can see that the forensics team have already marked up the scene. Rosa looks up as Jake approaches, and she informs him, “This one’s different from the others; they actually broke in instead of picking the lock. Otherwise, they took all the cash, and it doesn’t look like anything from the inventory was taken.” 

“Which is kinda weird, considering this place has pretty cool chip flavors and orange soda.” Jake points to a nearby shelf, and Rosa shoots him a look. Shrugging, Jake looks at the rest of the shelves and the fridge as he mumbles to himself, “I’m just saying.” 

“Security footage from this whole week is missing too.” Rosa continues. She groans, shaking her head as she takes another glance around the scene. “I don’t know how we’re going to get anywhere with this.”

The two of them make their way back outside, where a small crowd is now lingering outside the store, curiously trying to peek inside as the cops try to corral everyone. Pointing at them, Rosa suggests, “Maybe we can find a witness.” 

Jake follows her gaze, quickly sweeping over the individuals before his gaze lands on you. Your eyes momentarily meet, but you quickly look away and turn your attention back to the smashed glass. You’re cute, Jake thinks to himself with a grin, all bundled up in a denim jacket that, and when you turn to look at something over your shoulder, he can’t help but notice has a cool design of some planets stitched on the back. Rolling back his shoulders, Jake holds out his cup of coffee, and he says, “Allow me to handle this, Rosa,” 

Rosa rolls her eyes at the annoyingly confident tone Jake quickly adopts, and pointedly refuses to hold Jake’s coffee for him.

“Alright then,” Jake awkwardly takes his coffee back, and he gulps down the rest, fanning his tongue as it burns his mouth. Tossing it aside into a nearby trash can, Jake quickly composes himself, readjusting his jacket before approaching you. He offers you his hand, and you hesitate before shaking it, and Jake introduces, “Hey, I’m Detective Peralta. Cool jacket, by the way.”

“y/n.” you introduce yourself with a small smile, shaking his hand before you pull away to self consciously tug at the sleeves of your jacket. “And thanks. My friend made it for me as a birthday gift.”

“Nice,” Jake grins at you, before gesturing over his shoulder. “You come here often? It’s a pretty awesome bodega.”

“Uh, well, I work here.” you slowly respond, and you can see something in Jake’s expression falter as his cheeks get red. You bite back a smile as you continue, “So I think I’d have to say ‘yes’.”

“Cool, cool, cool, cool,” Jake nods, fumbling to come up with a response. His palms suddenly feel sweaty, and he scrambles to think of his next question. 

“I’ll let our owner know, by the way.” you pipe up, and Jake blinks at you. Nervously chuckling, you add, “That you think the bodega is awesome. He’ll appreciate it.” 

“Oh!” Jake laughs, and you can’t help but smile. Gesturing to the store, Jake continues, “I’ve gotta say, your snack selection is the best I’ve ever seen. I mean, you’ve got every flavor of everything in there! Also, any place that carries orange soda is automatically awesome in my book.” 

“Well of course,” you respond with a smile. “It’s the best flavor!” 

“Right?!” Jake perks up, and the both of you dissolve into laughter before Jake looks over his shoulder and notices Rosa glaring at him. Quickly clamming up, Jake attempts to focus himself, and his eyes widen as he remembers the fact that you work here. “Are you the cashier or something?”

“Yep.” you nod, stuffing your hands into the pockets of your jacket. “I just worked yesterday, too. I can’t believe someone robbed it last night.” 

“What time were you here until?” Jake asks. 

“The shop closes around midnight, and I was the one who locked up.” you answer, shifting your weight from one foot to another. Jake can’t help but notice as you momentarily break his gaze, and you glance at the store before back at him. “Usually our owner, Gabriel, closes up, but he’s been sick this past week, so I’ve been helping out.”

“Got it,” Jake nods, mentally taking note of all this information. The both of you look up as Rosa joins in on the conversation, and Jake continues, “And I’m assuming you didn’t see any sign of suspicious activity before you left?”

You shake your head, uneasily glancing over at Rosa as she looks at you. “Sorry, Detective.” 

“No, you’ve actually been super helpful.” Jake reassures you, and he offers you a friendly smile that puts you at ease. You relax, and Jake continues, “It helps us roughly estimate when the crime took place. Do you know anything about your security footage, by the way? This is my partner, Detective Diaz, and she noticed the footage was somehow erased.” 

Something in your expression shifts, and Jake can’t quite read the look on your face. Rosa narrows her eyes at you, and after a pause, you respond, “I think our cameras have been down.” 

Jake and Rosa exchange an uncertain glance, and you can feel your stomach twisting into knots as you know they don’t look convinced. The atmosphere becomes intense, especially as you feel yourself under Rosa’s stern gaze, and Jake quickly tries to lighten the mood as he tells you, “I think that’s it. Thanks for answering our questions, y/n.”

You nod, and Jake’s eyebrows furrow as your gaze lingers on him, your lips moving as if you want to tell him more. But you stop yourself, taking in a deep breath, before responding, “If there’s anything I can do to help, let me know.” 

You turn on your heel, and Jake watches as you head down the block. He looks over to see Rosa studying you, before she shakes her head. “I don’t like it, Jake. They seemed suspicious to me.”

“They were just nervous.” Jake finds himself defending you. “And probably a little frazzled, too. They were the last one in the shop, if they had stayed any longer, they could’ve been in danger.” 

“Or they could have something to do with the crime.” Rosa counteracts, and Jake lets out a sigh. Leaning towards him, Rosa continues, “I know we don’t have solid evidence, but I just have a feeling something’s up, Jake. Plus, it doesn’t help that you were flirting.” 

Jake gapes at her. “I was not flirting!” 

“Look, we need to solve this before Holt gets on my case about it.” Rosa insists. Jake lets out a sigh, before glancing down the direction you walked, and he can just barely see your figure heading into the subway station. 

“I’ll be right back.” Jake tells her, and before Rosa can stop him, he jogs after you. By the time he’s entered the station, he’s terribly out of breath, and he manages to catch you before you enter through the turnstile. “y/n!”

You look up upon hearing your name and you pause as Jake stops in front of you. He bends over, trying to catch his breath, and you patiently wait for him. Through heavy breaths, Jake manages to puff out, “Yeah, sorry, super unfit. The chips and the orange soda clearly don’t help.” 

Jake tries his best not to cringe at what he feels like is the lamest joke he’s ever made, but to his surprise, you laugh. A genuine laugh, not a cruel, teasing one, but one with a wide smile that makes Jake feel like he’s on top of the world. Tilting your head, you manage to say in between chuckles, “You’re pretty funny, Detective.” 

“Call me Jake.” Jake insists, finally regaining his breath, and you grin at him. “Hey, any chance I could get your number? For professional reasons of course, in case we need to contact you again. Or I could just give you my number if you feel better doing it that way.”

You seem hesitant, but you nod. He fumbles through his pocket, pulling out an old receipt and a pen that barely has enough ink in it, and you scribble out your number before handing it back to him, “I work every day but Tuesdays, too, so you’ll be able to catch me at work if you need me.” 

“Got it.” Jake nods, tucking the receipt into his pocket. “Thanks for your help, y/n.”

The expression that Jake can’t decipher crosses your face again, a look of pensiveness, of hesitation. But you shake it off, quickly plastering on a smile, and you nod, “Have a good day, Jake. And… good luck.” 

—

Jake and Rosa sit in the break room, a laptop open between them as they flip through countless CCTV videos from the blocks nearby the bodega. Rosa becomes increasingly aggressive with the keyboard with each video she clicks through, and Jake impatiently shakes his head. He groans, rubbing his fingers up against his temple as he complains, “This is killing me. If I have to look at one more minute of another grainy video, I’m going to lose it.”

Rosa rolls her eyes, leaning back in her chair as she folds her arms across her chest. She kicks Jake’s chair with her boot, and she points out, “This is all we have, Jake.”

Jake sighs, but nods. Rosa had interviewed some people in the neighboring apartments, some of which reported hearing smashed glass around three in the morning, but hadn’t called it in on the assumption it was a clumsy accident from a downstairs neighbor. It at least gave them a time of the crime, but as Rosa unfortunately pointed out, it didn’t give them much else. The CCTV didn’t seem to pick up on anything interesting, no speeding cars, and a brief moment of footage that might’ve captured the suspects only showed their retreating backs. The forensics team had also swept over all the evidence from the bodega, but had yet to find anything incriminating, not even a single fingerprint which could help lead the investigation somewhere. 

“These guys clearly know what they were doing.” Rosa grumbles, jabbing her finger into the screen. “They know to avoid all the camera spots.” 

“I hate smart criminals. Why can’t they all be dumb and just make it easier for us?” Jake whines, and Rosa rolls her eyes. 

“Have you talked to y/n lately?” Rosa asks, and Jake shakes his head, hoping Rosa doesn’t notice the faint blush that lights up his cheeks at the mere mention of your name.

“No, Rosa, who do you think I am? That’s way too forward.” Jake scoffs, before his expression turns serious. It’s been a little over a week since your interaction, and he looks at Rosa before continuing, “Unless you don’t think it’s too forward. Should I text them?”

Rosa resists the urge to punch Jake’s arm, and she deadpans, “Talked to them about the case, Jake, not for a date.” 

“Right.” Jake nods, clearly flustered, and Rosa rolls her eyes again. Wiping his slightly sweaty palms on his jeans, Jake corrects himself, “No, I haven’t talked to y/n.”

Rosa leans her elbows forward on the desk. “I think we should call them in again. You know, see if there’s anything we can get out of them. Kind it seems like they’re the only lead we have.”

“You don’t still suspect them, do you?” Jake asks, eyebrows furrowing, and he lets out a sigh as Rosa shrugs. Shaking his head, Jake insists, “I really don’t think it’s them, Rosa.” 

“Jake…” Rosa starts, shooting him a look, and Jake quickly waves his hand, brushing her off as he already knows what’s coming next. 

“Alright, I’ll reach out to them, see if there’s anything more they can tell us.” Jake reluctantly says, and Rosa nods. Pointing back at the computer, Jake asks, “Does this mean I can stop watching these boring videos?”

“Fine.” Rosa grumbles, angling the laptop towards herself as Jake grins. He grabs his jacket hanging off the back of his chair, and he sneaks one last glance at the grainy video before darting out the room. He pauses, his eyes narrowing, and he points at the screen. 

“Wait, what’s that?” Jake points at the corner of the video, where a figure rushes down the street. Rosa squints, and she pauses the video for Jake to get a better look. His eyes widen, and his expression pales slightly, and he asks, “What time was this footage from?”

“Five in the morning.” Rosa replies, checking the timestamp. Looking up at Jake, she asks, “Why? What is it?”

“Nothing.” Jake hurriedly remarks, and Rosa frowns. Before she can demand an answer from Jake, he’s already rushed out of the break room, swiftly exiting the bullpen as he dodges Terry on his way out.

It’s not nothing, but Jake knows he can’t tell Rosa that. Not when the figure in the video was wearing a distinctive denim jacket with planets stitched on the back.

tag list: @myfriendmagislit​​ / @thedamagedcne / @real-fbi​​ / @writinqss​​ / @thisismysecrethappyplace​​ / @natalia-helena-alianova-romanov / @dontjudgemepeepswrites​​ / @hauntedpocdreamer / @locke-writes​​ / @lgbtonystarks​​ / @fangirlsarah16​​ / @kittensanddarkclouds​​ / @randomfandomimagine​​ / @ofthedewthesunlight​​ / @bravelittlesunflower​​

[shemarmooresfedora]

Rebuilding Family

Summary: Y/N and Spencer were college sweethearts at Cal-Tech but once Spencer got accepted to the FBI Academy, he ended things deciding it was not fair to make Y/N wait for him. When they meet again years later, he discovers something unexpected.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Warnings: one allusion to sex

A/N: me and @samuel-de-champagne-problems are doing a 500 follower co-celebration that you can find here! we would love to hear from you <3

Masterlist

Chapter 34

You came down the stairs in the morning to see Spencer staring out the window of the sun room.

He occasionally sketched something in his journal, poking his tongue out of the corner of his mouth, before glancing up again.

“What’s up, love?” you asked him, wrapping your arms around his waist from behind so you could peek into his journal full of sketches.

“I want to build a treehouse for Jo to use and the twins eventually. Maybe even grandkids,” Spencer smiled softly.

“I like that idea but please tell me you are having someone help you. I don’t want you up on a ladder by yourself,” you warned him.

“Derek was more than happy to help,” he kissed the top of your head.

“I’ve got to go to Lowe’s to get the wood planks. Do you want to come too or I can bring all the kids with me?”

“I am not going to miss alpha-male Spence,” you bit your lip, “This is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.”

“I’ll get the kids up if you make coffee,” he bargained.

“Deal,” you gave him a quick peck before sending him up the stairs.

Spencer came back downstairs with the two twins in the double carrier and Jo holding his hand. He was dressed in jeans with a measuring tape hooked to his belt and the leather brown doc martens you bought him on his feet.

“I was not expecting to be this turned on at 8 in the morning,” you whispered to him with a giggle which caused him to blush.

“Can we get donuts on the way, Mommy?” Jo asked.

“Of course, Baby J. Let’s go.”

-

You had Ollie and Ophelia in their portable car seats in the shopping cart while you and Jo were eating your donut munchkins and watching amusedly as Spencer pretended to know what he was doing.

“It’s okay to ask for help, love,” you reminded him.

“Fine,” he huffed, “Let me go get an employee. I have all the practical knowledge of how this should work but believe it or not, I was never a big handyman. I would just call my landlord when something broke.”

After getting the wood situation settled, Spencer brought Jo to the paint swatch section.

“Princess, you can pick any color you want for me and Uncle Derek to paint the tree house,” Spencer told her.

Jo took her time, carefully examining each swatch and considering her options before deciding on a pale lavender.

“Excellent choice,” Spencer smiled, kissing her cheek, “You got your love of purple from me.”

-

“I’ve got it!” Jo announced at the knock at the door.

“Jo!” Derek smiled as she opened the door.

“Uncle Derek!” she jumped into his arms.

“Long time, no see, kiddo. You’re growing so fast.”

You walked into the entry way with Ollie and Ophelia in your arms.

“Spence is already out back. Please be careful, you two. I don’t want to drive to the hospital today,” you cautioned.

“I’ll be out in just a second. I need to see my two godbabies first,” Derek extended his arms, taking Ollie from you and giving him little kisses on the cheek before doing the same to Ophelia.

“They still keeping you up at night?” Derek asked.

“Not as much nowadays, it’s a little harder with twins because as soon as one cries, the other follows. But Spencer always insists on getting up so I really can’t complain,” you smiled.

“Alright, I’ll head out there and get to work so Jo can have her new treehouse as soon as possible,” Derek waved.

“Hey, man,” Derek greeted Spencer as he walked outside.

Spencer looked up from his journal, “Oh, hey! I have got some preliminary blueprints sketched out that you can take a look at. Thank you so much for your help today. I really appreciate it and the kids will too.”

“Of course. You know things between me and Savannah are getting pretty serious so maybe my kid will be playing up there one day too,” Derek smiled.

“That’s so great to hear, Morgan.”

“I have you to thank for that. Seeing this life that you created outside the BAU inspired me. It made me realize I want more than to be a travelling single man my whole life,” Derek stated.

“I’m happy you’ve found someone you can see yourself settling down with,” Spencer smiled, “You and Savannah are welcome over any time for dinner.”

“When did you know Y/N was the one?” Derek asked.

Spencer couldn’t believe the Derek Morgan was asking him for girl advice. But then, he remembered he had everything. He had managed to win over his dream girl. His soulmate. His everything.

“The first time she laughed at an awful joke I made. I just knew from that moment on, I wanted to hear it over and over again and I would do everything in my power to keep that smile on her beautiful face,” Spencer admitted.

The sliding glass door of the sun room opened.

“Sorry to interrupt but Jo and I just made some fresh lemonade and I don’t want you guys to get dehydrated out here,” you said as you placed the pitcher and cups down on the table, “Why are you looking at me like that?”

Spencer’s lovesick gaze was laser-focused on you.

“I asked him when he knew you were the one,” Derek informed you.

“Oh,” you smiled softly, reminiscing, “For me, it was on our first date when he held every single door for me and would even run ahead to make sure it was open. I knew I had found myself the perfect gentleman.”

You gave him a quick peck before heading back inside.

-

You woke up already crying. You cuddled further into Spencer’s chest as you teared up.

“I don’t want to go. Please, Spence, I want to stay home with you and the kids,” you sobbed.

“Love, remember, I asked you last week if you wanted to go back or if you wanted me to find a job instead and do you remember what you said?” Spencer cupped your chin and gently forced you to look up at him.

“I love teaching,” you sniffled.

“I completely understand if you change your mind but I think you should give it at least a day.”

“No, you’re right,” you kissed him before getting up and heading to the bathroom to get ready, “Besides, it’s spring so before you know it, the semester will be over and I’ll have all summer with you and the kids.”

“That’s my girl,” Spencer smiled.

-

“Okay bye, my beautiful babies,” you kissed Ophelia and Ollie’s heads, “Be good for Daddy while Jo and I are gone.”

“I will text you pictures of them every hour on the hour and you can facetime us at lunch if you want,” Spencer assured you, giving you a goodbye kiss.

“Ready, Jo?” you asked, extending your hand for her to grasp on to.

“Yes, Mommy,” she grabbed your hand.

“Have fun at school and work!” Spencer called out, crouching down and moving Ophelia and Ollie’s little arms as if they were waving goodbye.

-

Your day had gone as well as could be expected. You felt like eventually you would be able to adjust back to your regular work schedule. Spencer’s constant texts throughout the day and the multiple framed family photos that he got you for your office desk definitely helped.

You got home, setting your keys and bag down on the counter next to a takeout bag. Of course, Spencer got you takeout from your favorite restaurant on your first day back because he’s just that sweet.

You hadn’t heard any noise from within the house since you got home so you headed out to the back porch.

You saw Spencer in a hammock tied between two trees in the yard, soaking up the sun. Ollie and Ophelia were sprawled across his chest with a protective arm draped over them and Jo was curled up into his side with his other arm wrapped around her.

You quietly walked over and snapped a picture that definitely would be added to your office desk’s collection before laying down on Spencer’s other side.

He awoke from the rustling you made trying to get yourself settled.

“Why are you crying, love? During our last check-in, you seemed fine,” he whispered concernedly.

“Nothing is wrong, my family is just too cute and my husband is too sweet,” you smiled softly, “Now pass me a baby. You can’t hog them all to yourself.”

in case you missed it, i posted a stand-alone smut one-shot of RF titled ‘All Clear’ but it is not necessary to read to continue the plot of the story and it is strictly 18+

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