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infiniteimaginings · 4 months

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Can you do a transmale!reader x Harry Hook/Uma

(if you do multiple characters)

Where reader is chosen with the main four in the first movie (kid of Jack Sparrow) and leaves. He’s part of Uma’s crew. And when he’s chosen in the first movie, he’s pre-T or anything like it.

Then the second movie comes along and reader goes back to the isle with the others to bring back Mal. But he really goes because he wants to see his pirates. Except now he’s been on T for about a year now and had his surgeries. So they don’t recognize him and kidnap him along with Ben.

Anddddd I can’t really think of anything else after that. So…have fun with it! Preferably a happy ending, with lots of fluff and sweetness.

Pre-established Uma/Harry and Reader didn’t come out to them before leaving so as far as Uma/Harry know, Reader is a cis woman. So it’s a surprise when he finally tells him who he really is.

And yeah, that’s all. It’s alright if you don’t write it, I’d understand. Thanks!

Are we supposed to know you? (Uma x TransMale!Reader x Harry Hook)

Summary: You were sent off with the other Vk's to Auradon and when you come back to retrieve Mal, you're changed. You of course go back for Mal, but it's mainly to see the people you left and to tell them you're home. What happens when they don't recognize you and see you as a threat, just like Ben. How will they know you're who you say you are? Pronouns: You/Yours, She/Her (In mentions from Uma and Harry), He/Him Warnings: None Word Count: 2.7k A/N: (Long A/N) Act like Jefferson doesn't exist, I forgot he existed lol. Also, I won't lie, I started this at one o'clock in the morning, and was contemplating how on earth I make this fluff when they don't recognize him and kidnap him. So, unfortunately I didn't get lots of fluff into it, I apologize, I will write a part two to this little thing just for you with only fluff in it. I hope I did the general idea justice, if I didn't, I apologize. Lots of love! <333 (Even if I explained it, you guys would not understand how frustrated I've been with tumblr and my computer. I'm so sorry for how late this is, I've been upset because I had to delay it. It's here now though.)

When Mal came to you , talking about the Isle, you couldn't help but get excited. Your eyes lit up and your smile got wider at the thought of discussing it. Mal noticed your obvious signs of wanting to continue the conversation so she sat down next to you on the bed, looking out the open curtains where the students of Auradon Prep walked. The blonde girl looked over to you, the tips of her hair their typical purple. She sighed and looked back down, messing with her fingers, “Do you ever feel like…” She paused, unable to express how she felt in words. It would’ve been easier for her if you were the first person she went to, but you weren’t.

She went to Evie, Jay, Carlos, but none of them could understand where she was coming from. It was as if everyone was happy with their new lives, but her.

Mal groaned, putting her head into her hands, unable to speak anymore.

You looked at her curiously, placing a hand on her back and rubbing small circles into it. “You wanted to talk about the island…right?” You asked her, tilting your head to see her expression. She removed her hands and nodded, not looking at you. “Yeah.”

“Is it because…you miss it?”

There was a pause, as if the room itself stilled, as if the world stopped. You moved your hand a bit just to make sure it wasn’t some sort of magic freezing everything.

Mal sat up straight, swallowing hard, “I don’t miss the island itself.” She confessed, making eye contact with you, “I miss who I was.” She explained, taking a deep breath, “Do you get what I mean?”

You looked at her blankly, tilting your head as you looked down at yourself.

As you did so, she opened her mouth before closing it immediately. She shook her head and laughed, slapping your arm lightly. “You know what I mean!”

“Hey, I didn’t even say anything!” You chuckled out, putting an arm around her, placing your head on hers. “But…” You began, rubbing her arm softly as she leaned into you, “I do get where you’re coming from.”

Mal looked up, her eyes a bit water, “You do?”

You nodded with a smile, “We went from a life of no no structure, doing whatever we want, enjoying life to…” You blew air out of your mouth, sighing heavily, “Rules, etiquette, expectations.”

The girl next to you stiffened at the last word before she relaxed, leaning more into your shoulder. “I just miss….” She trailed off, shaking her head.

“You miss the freedom.”

“Yeah, I miss the freedom.”

You nodded, thinking for a moment. Soon enough, you removed your arm from her and turned to her, “Then, get it back.”

“What?”

“Show everyone that you still deserve your freedom.” You explained, moving your hands with your words. “We didn’t stop being villain kids just because we started going to Auradon.” You continued watching as her eyes got bigger, “You don’t have to fit into these boxes people are trying to force us into.” You told her, shaking your head, “If they don’t understand that, then they never really understood you.”

Your words seemed to have gotten to Mal as she stood up quickly, a small smile on her face. “I needed that, thank you.” She told you, inhaling softly as she turned to the door to walk out.

You waved and mumbled a small ‘you’re welcome’ once the door was closed since she gave you no time to.

You didn’t think much of it, you just assumed she would do something to show people that she was still herself even if she wasn’t ‘evil’, or necessarily ‘good’.

Well, you didn’t think much of it until the next day when the VK group and Ben bursted into your room. You jumped, shoving a paper under your pillow as you clutch your chest. “Last I checked, knocking wasn’t a foreign concept.”

Evie mumbled a small apology as the rest stood with apologetic but serious faces.

You sat up since the air was so tense, tossing your legs over the bed to stand in front of them, “What’s up?”

“Mal left for the Isle.” Carlos blurted out, blinking rapidly as he looked everywhere but you.

Ben looked down with a guilty face, a frown placed on his lips. “We had a fight…” He mumbled, “She said I didn’t understand how…” He paused, clearing his throat, “She said I didn’t understand her.”

Your eyes widened and your mouth fell open at the realization and of the conversation you had with her.

Jay noticed your expression and knitted his brows together, “What?”

A harsh cough left your throat as you looked away from them, “I might’ve had something to do with that.”

The group simultaneously yelled, “What?!”

Your hands raised in an automatic surrender, “Hey, she came to me talking about the Isle,” You began your explanation, “and I miss my

Evie wasn’t pleased to say the least, she crossed her arms with a raised brow. “We are your people.”

You almost laughed, but given the situation you decided not to. “I miss my people.” You specified, your words reminding the group that all of you weren’t exactly the bestest of friends back on the island.

They couldn’t say anything, they knew you were right. Ben didn’t exactly get the message, and that reminded you all of why you were gathered in the first place.

You agreed to go to the Isle to help Mal.

You agreed, but you weren’t really going to help Mal. She lived there her entire life, you knew she would be fine. She knows her way around the island, she practically ran it. You weren’t going to the Island to help Mal, you were going home.

Once all of you reached the island, you thought you would all spread out to find Mal…that wasn’t the case. You all went in a suspiciously large group to find the daughter of Maleficent, something you thought was stupid.

You thought it was stupid, but you all still found where she was hiding out and Ben went to talk to her.

Evie, Jay, and Carlos all talked to each other as you scanned the area, kicking the ground slightly as time passed by. You were barely on the island and now you all were going to leave. It wasn’t how you wanted things to go, nothing was how you wanted to go.

Ben walked out and before anyone could question him, he walked straight past you guys. Everyone looked at each other and you sighed, “I’ll get him.” You grumbled, jogging after him.

“Ben!” You yelled, trying to catch up to him. “Ben, wait up!” You yelled once again, finally reaching him, placing a hand on his shoulder. “What happened? Why are you so upset?”

“She doesn’t want to come with us, all of this was for nothing.” Ben spoke harshly, ripping his beanie off his head and throwing it to the ground.

You sighed, picking the beanie up, dusting it off. “Ben, do me a favor.”

“What!”

“Look around right now.” You told him, gripping the beanie tightly. He looked at you confused but you repeated, “Look around right now.”

Ben regulated his breathing, calming down enough to look around. It was cramped, cluttered, dirty even. It wasn’t properly cared for but the people around seemed to be having a good time nonetheless.

When he looked back at you, you were looking at the children running around, trying to find a way to pick-pocket Ben. “This is how we grew up Ben…” You mumbled, finally making eye contact with Ben, “You can’t expect Mal, the daughter of the biggest villain who was on this island, to just snap into a princess.” You explained to him, shaking your head.

Ben turned, looking at the area around, “I didn’t realize…” He whispered, eyes flickering to something new the more he looked.

When the son of Belle and the Beast turned around to face you again, you were nowhere to be found. He turned around quickly, breath picking up the pace as he looked for you, “Where’d you go?” He called out, spinning in a circle until he felt a tap on his shoulder. He let out a sigh of relief, “Come on, that wasn’t fun-” The next thing he knew, everything went black.

Blurry eyes opened, a dry throat let out a cough, and vision restored. Ben looked around for a moment before his gaze fell on you. You were sat with a blank expression, seemingly uninterested in your current situation.

Ben muttered a few incoherent sentences but you cut him off for a moment.

“Getting kidnapped was not on my vacation bucket list.”

Neither of you could even begin a conversation after your words when someone started laughing. The two of you looked up and saw someone had walked in, seemingly amused at your situations.

“Absolutely hilarious, you’re quite funny.” The male said, looking you over a bit before turning his attention to Ben to do the same thing.

Your brows furrowed as you broke out of whatever ‘trance’ you were in. “Harry?” You asked aloud, adjusting yourself to get a closer look at him.

He pointed his fake hook to you, placing it under his chin. “How do you know my name?”

“How does who know your name?” A voice called from behind the boy, footsteps getting louder as they neared.

Harry tilted his head, “This one.” He spoke, moving his hook from under your chin to step back.

The person that walked in was a girl, she had light blue braids and brown eyes. She stood tall with the hat of a pirate on.

Your brows furrowed once again, your mind still a little fuzzy from your current situation. “Uma?” You mumbled out, tilting your head.

“You know these people?” Ben suddenly spoke out, trying to get out the rope that tied his hands behind his back.

You looked over at him, a bit unimpressed. “I was raised here, I know everyone here.”

Harry gasped falsely, fake hook over his heart, “You’re a VK?” He asked, not expecting you to answer, since he didn't believe you.

You nodded, forgetting that you look different so they don’t recognize you. “Uh, yeah.” You spoke as if it were obvious, “Born and raised.” You spoke, trying to jog their memory. “Uma, I was in your shop every single da-”

“Oh, and are we supposed to know you because of that?” She asked with a straight face, squatting down to bore her eyes into yours.

You took a deep breath, closing your eyes before opening them again, “If you said you didn’t, I’d be questioning our friendship.”

Your captors both laughed, looking at each other, “Friendship?”

Ben decided to give up, still listening to the conversation. So much was running through his mind, he was trying to figure out how to get out of this situation until…he realized something. You knew these people, you guys were friends, they just didn’t recognize you. If Ben reminded them, maybe they would let you guys go.

He thought it over before blurting out, “He’s the child of Jack Sparrow, so yes he is a villain kid.”

Everyone went silent, their laughs were quiet, and your breathing stopped at Bens sudden exclamation.

You looked over and Ben looked you up and down, and that is when you realized…they don’t know who you are. You had changed so much in the past year, even your voice was different. How did you just expect them to recognize you?

When you looked back at the two pirates, they were staring you down. If looks could kill, you would be six feet under.

Uma squatted down in front of you, glaring harshly, “Don’t you ever disrespect her like that ever again.” She whispered to you seriously, her head whipping to Ben, “Don’t you ever mention her in front of me, again.”

Harry took a few deep breaths, “She would’ve been fine here, and you took her.” He told Ben, poking his chest with his hook. “If you ever try to lie to us, I will gut you like a fish.”

Uma nodded to the statement, “You think we wouldn’t know her family?” She asked you, tilting her head. “Jack Sparrow had one child, a daughter, and she’s never coming back.” She paused, biting the inside of her cheek, “For you, a preppy, to just try to claim her father as your own for some sense of freedom…it’s disgusting.”

The blue haired girl stood slowly, keeping her eyes on you. You finally released the breath you were holding, when she removed herself from your space.

You blinked back a few tears as they turned to walk out the door. Harry gently took Umas hand, whispering some things that you couldn't hear.

They were so good together, they still defended your name even if they thought you weren't there. You didn't expect your chest to hurt so badly when they protected you, even if they believed you were gone for good.

“I would’ve joined your crew even if I lost that race.” You mumbled, looking at their backs with sad eyes.

The two paused before turning to you, “Excuse me?” Uma asked, standing in place.

“The race..” You trailed off, “If you won I would join your crew, if I won you would have to spend a week proving to me how much you wanted me to join and then I’d give you my answer.” You continued, nodding with your own words. You didn't notice how they continued to walk towards you. You continued on, “Unfortunately, I was dragged to Auradon before I could answer you, so I’m doing it now.” You told them, looking up to see both of them analyzing you with parted lips, “I was going to join your crew anyways.”

Umas eyes were focusing on each of your features before she cupped your face, looking at you more intensely.

Harry looked up, making eye contact with you, “You have her eyes…” He muttered, taking off his hook to trace your cheeks.

You swallowed harshly before breathing out a chuckle, your cheeks warming a bit. “I would hope so, I was born with my eyes, guys.”

Uma shook her head, “But she’s… you’re not…”

“A girl…I know.” You whispered out, looking down, or trying to. Harry picked your head back up swiftly.

His eyes were watering slightly, “You’re telling the truth aren’t you?”

You nodded as best as you could with his hands on your cheeks. “I know I don’t look the same…”

He shook his head, “But you’re still you…”

Uma quickly untied the rope keeping you tied up, trying her best to go quickly. She had ordered her crew to tie your guys up from your arms to your legs, and now she was regretting it. Harry noticed her struggle and began to help untie you, muttering curses when he got to harder knots.

Once you were untied, you rubbed at your wrists, looking down for a moment at the burn.

You looked up, finally, and were met with Harry and Uma on their knees, staring at you. Their eyes were teary, their chests were rising and falling deeper than ever, neither could speak.

You felt your own eyes begin to water as you rushed forward, wrapping your arms around the both of them.

Harry's arm immediately went around you, he began to cry into your shoulder, holding you tightly. “We thought we’d never see you again.”

Uma, on the other hand, was hesitant. She slowly wrapped her arm around you. When she did, she felt a rush of familiar comfort, a heat rushing through her chest, something she only felt with Harry and…you. She bit her tongue so as to not cry as she buried her nose into your other shoulder, “We would’ve found a way to you anyways.”

The warmth of the two enveloped you as you finally got to be near them again, as you finally got to feel their comforting arms again. “I have no doubt in my mind that you would’ve found me again.” You whispered to them, trying to hold them tighter.

Harry rambled on about never leaving them again, Uma ran her fingers down your back, both of them weren't letting you go anytime soon.

Uma sniffled a bit, "We missed you so much."

"I missed you guys too, more than you'll ever know."

You were finally with your people again. Now, you didn’t have to stare at a picture of the three of you, wishing they were in your arms.

#uma descendants #Hary Hook descendants #Harry Hook #Uma x Harry Hook #descendants x reader #disney descendants #descendants #disney descendants x reader #Harry Hook x Reader #Uma x Reader #Disney #Disney x Reader #infinite imaginings

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tasteracha · 1 year

Text

brother’s best friend

word count: 2.4k

warnings: possessive behavior, reader is called sweet girl, afab!reader

synopsis: you told your brother chan that his 25th birthday would be eventful, a true milestone, but even you couldn’t have prepared him for the mess that unraveled. or alternatively, minho, your brother's best friend, is your friends-with-benefits-but-with-feelings.

you and chan have always been more of best friends than siblings. having such a small age gap meant you always had the same teachers, the same hobbies, the same circles of friends - of which included lee minho.

lee fucking minho.

the man has been in your lives for longer than you can remember, since you used to ride around your neighborhood on your pink tricycle and him and chan would chase behind you like the young boys they were. the older you got the less annoying he seemed to you - you found yourself seeking out his company instead of shying away from it. it was different than the rest of chan’s boys. hyunjin and felix were your comfort, the ones you went to when you needed a shoulder to cry on or a hug to make all your problems disappear if only for a moment. changbin and jisung were chan’s right and left hands, or wings as they liked to call it. you couldn’t find your brother without those two anymore, it’s a good thing you like them so much otherwise you would go insane with their constant presence. jeongin and seungmin were the two youngest, snarky and pouty and your favorite thing to do was to smother them with cuddles and kisses just to hear their complaints. there isn’t anything you wouldn’t do for them.

minho somehow managed to encompass all of that. his comfort, his constant presence, his aversion to touch from anyone that isn’t you. it’s no wonder you ended up making out over the console of his car when he drove you home from a party last year.

and again in a dingy club bathroom, away from prying eyes and secret-spilling lips.

and again under the tree that you used to climb together when you were younger.

and again. and again. and again.

the amount of times you’ve hooked up are more than you can count on both of your hands, now. you both know you’re exclusive even though neither of you have talked about it. there are too many feelings, too much history for it to be anything other than love, even if you’re unwilling to admit it yet.

which leads you to now - sipping a fruity cocktail that’s probably more liquor than juice even though you can’t taste it. you’ve been nursing it for so long that the ice has melted and the condensation is dripping off your fingers, but it serves as a nice distraction from the guy that’s been trying to chat you up for the past hour or so.

trying is the key word. he’s incredibly dull, and for every thirty words he’s spoken you’ve barely gotten in one. he’s been telling you about some business his friend is starting with him, and he reaches out to touch your shoulder when you finally catch sight of minho across the room. he turns towards you as if he feels your gaze on him, and his eyes harden when he sees the guy’s hand on you.

if eyes could kill, the guy would have two burning holes smoking on the back of his head right now. you gently shrug the guys hand off of you, taking a sip of your drink as minho stalks across the room and slides up behind you, snaking an arm around your waist and resting his chin on your shoulder. his fingers are digging into your skin and you can feel the tense set of his jaw, and you waste no time twirling out of his hold.

“min,” you hiss. your grip on his arm like a vice as you drag him to the kitchen, flirty boy left behind with his hand still outstretched. if minho wasn’t wearing a jacket you’re sure your nails would be digging into his flesh right now. “what are you doing.”

“i’m just showing everyone here who you belong to, or have you forgotten?” he purrs out, not caring for a second how irritated you are at him. did you say you were in love with him? you take it back. not an ounce of love is present right now.

“you know we can’t,” you frown, knowing that his actions are because of his emotions, not because he wants to mess with you or chan. “not here.”

his eyes narrow and he lets out a breath, crossing his arms like a child.

“if one more of those brats looks at you wrong, i won’t be able to stop myself.”

you didn’t know if it was a threat or a warning. maybe it was a promise.

the night goes on. you try and stay glued to chan’s side the entire night, knowing that minho wouldn’t try anything with his best friend standing right there. it also helps that chan is always surrounded by his friends and not random guys that showed up because they heard about the event, so there was no opportunity for Jealous Minho to show his face.

shit goes a little sideways when your bladder catches up with you and you have to use the bathroom, alone in your trek up the stairs where you know the cleanest one was.

the flirty guy whose name you don’t remember is waiting at the foot of the stairs when you return, his insanely white smile glinting from the fairy lights you helped hang up earlier.

“i thought i lost you,” he said, blocking your escape from the hallway. “i wanted to get your number? if that’s okay.”

before you could come up with some way to politely decline, minho reappears as if summoned by someone other than him giving you attention. he moves his body physically between you and the guy, baring his teeth like a cat.

“she’s not available,” he almost growls, standing at his full height. it’s somehow intimidating even though the guy has a couple of inches on him.

“whoa, okay,” the guy says, holding his hands up in surrender as he backs a foot away. “i didn’t know. no harm right?”

“there was definitely harm-“

“all good,” you interrupt minho, poking your head out from behind his shoulder. “nice meeting you, but you should probably go.”

he walks away and you expect minho to deflate, but he still stands with his hackles raised like a predator.

“i was going to handle that,” you pout when he doesn’t say anything, honestly a little turned on by his caveman-like behavior even though you would never tell him that. he knows you can fight your own battles, even though he decided to step in. it’s a matter of him showing the guy who has a bigger dick, rather than him being narrow minded.

“i’ll show you what you can handle,” he grumbles, gesturing at you to follow him as he stalks away.

you follow him like a helpless moth to a flame as he leads you into the guest bedroom on the main floor. you let him, the fight inside of you having not left but waiting for the right moment. not in front of everyone, your brain supplies helpfully.

“what, you didn’t want to use chan’s bedroom?” you ask as he closes the door behind you. “really seal in the deal, since there’s no way he doesn’t know about us now-“

he cuts you off with a searing kiss, his hands ember-warm on either side of your face as he holds you close to him.

“do not talk about your brother when i’m about to fuck you,” he murmurs against your lips.

oh.

“who says i want you to?” you back away, false bravado coating your words. of course you want him to. you never stop wanting him.

“you’re telling me you’re not wet right now?” he arches a brow at you. “i saw how you were looking at me. you forget how well i can read you.”

the unspoken sentiment of you can say no, it’s your choice is hidden in his words. you know him just as well as he knows you, well enough to be able to read between the lines that he’s laid out for you.

but he’s right - you are wet. the feeling gets more intense as he steps back into your space and you let him, meeting his lips with a sigh.

he kneels to the floor when you part, unbuttoning your jeans and sliding them down with your panties inch by inch. he presses fluttering kisses to each bit of skin that’s revealed until your legs feel weak and shaky. he tosses the clothes to the side once they’re off, not showing them a fraction of the reverence that he shows you as he stands and helps you to lay onto the bed, cushioning your head onto the pillows.

he drapes his body over yours after dealing with his own pants and boxers, leaning his head down to kiss and bite at your neck as he slowly grinds against you.

“mine,” he mumbles into your skin, making your skin flush and your entire body sing.

“yes,” you breath out, tilting your head back for him. he jerks at your verbal confirmation, growling into your neck before leaning up on his forearm to look at you.

“come on, my sweet girl,” he says, letting the head of his cock slide through your folds in an infuriatingly teasing way. it catches in your clit with each swipe and you have to bite your tongue to hold back the noises that threaten to spill from your mouth. the sounds coming from your bodies are already obscene enough. “show me who you belong to.”

“fuck, i’m your-“ your sentence can’t even make it out before he sinks into you in one full strike, his hips connecting with yours. a gasp leaves your throat and he smirks, a satisfied glint swimming in his eyes like there always is when he pulls out a reaction from you.

“let me hear you,” he says, rocking into you slowly, letting you feel every inch of him dragging in and out of you. you slide your hands into the back of his shirt and dig your nails into his muscle, letting out a moan when he pushes his hips even deeper.

“yes, yes,” your voice is strangled, your breath is punched out with every push of his cock. you’re so full of him, he’s covering every inch of you and yet it’s not enough. “please, more?”

his eyes go soft when he looks at you, and he presses a kiss to your cheek, then the tip of your nose, and finally your lips.

“how can i say no when you ask so nicely?” he says, voice soft and just bordering on condescending. he picks up his pace, the headboard rocking back and forth with your bodies as he rolls his hips in a steady rhythm.

you’re letting out little staccato bursts of breath in tune with his movements that morph into thready moans when he switches his angle just so. he’s hitting that spot inside of you just right, making your entire body feel like it’s on fire and doused in ice water all at once. you feel the pressure building in your lower belly, too soon even though it feels like he’s been fucking you for hours.

“come for me,” he pants out, the exertion catching up to him even though he doesn’t pause even for a moment. “please, baby, i need to see you fall apart for me.”

so you do. your legs shake as your orgasm takes over, clenching around him over and over and you can’t even keep track of the noises spilling out of your mouth because it feels so good.

he keeps going, even as you begin to twitch in the pleasure-pain of oversensitivity until he’s pulling out and spilling onto your thighs. he collapses next to you, pulling you close so he can bury his face into your hair as you both come down from your highs.

“i love you, you know that right?” it’s the first time you’ve said it to him. the timing is wrong, the location is wrong, but you couldn’t let yourself leave this room without telling him that. he jerks away and blinks as you, once, twice, three times before kissing you until you’re breathless again, not giving you any time to regret your words.

“i love you too,” he says when he pulls back, his lips red and shiny where they’re pulled into a helpless smile. his hair is a mess and his eyes are watery and tinged a little pink but he looks beautiful.

“well, lover,” you grin, pressing one last peck to his lips. “clean yourself off of me, please.”

his smile drops into a scowl but his eyes stay soft as he rolls off the bed to find a towel. he cleans you up gently and helps you back into your clothes, contrasted by the way he swats your butt once you’re both dressed.

“my shirt is wrinkled,” you whine, looking down at the mussed up fabric hanging from your frame.

“it’s a party, everyone’s shirt is wrinkled,” he says, smoothing his hands down your sides. “no one will notice.”

but when you return to the living room it’s not your shirt that you have to worry about. most of the party had left, leaving only seven of your closest friends.

seven of your closest friends that are now staring at the two of you, all conversations paused when they notice you there.

“really? minho?” chan says, arching an eyebrow. he looks stern, but you know him; it’s a show. he’s not really mad. a breath of relief rushes out of your lungs. “of all of them, minho? you couldn’t have chosen seungmin?”

“hey,” seungmin pouts from across the room, looking offended. you can’t help the laugh that bursts out of your lungs at the put-out expression on his face, and it’s like the tension in the room deflates. everyone relaxes, even minho, who sags against you a little bit.

“trust me minnie,” you start, shrugging. “if it was a choice i could make, i would have chosen you in a heartbeat.”

seungmin’s blinding smile is overshadowed by minho’s affronted shout, followed by a chorus of laughter from all the people you love.

#stray kids smut #skz smut #stray kids imagines #stray kids drabbles #lee know smut #lee minho smut #lee know imagines #lee know x reader #lee know x you #stray kids x reader #stray kids x y/n

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reidmarieprentiss · 1 month

Text

Wasteland, Baby!

Summary: We learn a little about reader's past, Spencer tries (and succeeds) to get back in her good graces. Happy ending!

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader

Category: angst, fluff

Warnings/Includes: bad past relationships, past cheating, pregnancy (not reader), getting broken up with, divorced parents, past hooking up with strangers, alcohol consumption, mentions of being drunk, mild depression, time jumps, penelope garcia being the best person alive, derek morgan saving the day

Word count: 10.3k

a/n: final installment of Too Sweet!! i know they're a mess but i love these twooo might give them some blurbs in the future <33 thank you so much to everyone reading! your comments and interactions seriously motivate me to write sooo much faster and make my heart burst!!

main masterlist

part one part two

Flashback…

You sat there, the rim of your glass resting against your lips as you drained the last of your drink. The burn of the alcohol was distant, almost nonexistent—just like everything else these days. The numbness had long since taken over, seeping into every part of your life, leaving you cold and detached. You chased sensations, tried to force yourself to feel something, anything, but nothing worked. Not the new piercings that adorned your skin, not the tattoo etched into your flesh, not even the alcohol that should have brought warmth, or the rage rooms where you shattered objects in a futile attempt to break through the void.

Work had once been your refuge, a security blanket that made you feel capable and strong. Military intelligence had given you purpose, a clear path forward. But now even that had become a nightmare, as Jackson had managed to ruin yet another thing you loved. The betrayal cut deep, but even that pain had dulled, leaving only a hollow ache in its place.

“Y/N… you should go home,” the bartender, Drew, said with a shake of their head. They had seen you here night after night, watching as you spiraled deeper into whatever darkness had taken hold of you.

“I don’t have a home anymore,” you slurred, the words bitter on your tongue. The thought of the apartment you had shared with Jackson twisted like a knife in your gut. He was there right now, with his fiance—your replacement. All your things were still there while you slept in a cheap motel that barely felt real. He got the apartment, the girl, the job, and all you got was a long bar tab.

Drew’s expression softened with pity, but before they could say anything, a deep, smooth voice cut through the haze.

“Hey, beautiful, you can come home with me,” the stranger called out, his tone dripping with confidence. His voice was like honey, dark and rich, promising the kind of escape you craved.

You looked up, eyes narrowing as you focused on him—tall, broad shoulders, a chiseled jawline, and eyes that gleamed with something dangerous, something alluring. He was exactly what you needed: a distraction, a thrill, something to make you forget for just a little while.

And thus began the one thing that finally brought feeling back into your world.

You pushed the glass aside and slid off the barstool, unsteady but determined. The stranger’s smirk grew as you approached him, his hand reaching out to guide you out of the bar. The warmth of his touch was electric, a spark in the darkness that reminded you that you were still alive, still capable of feeling—if only for tonight.

You didn’t know his name, and you didn’t care. All that mattered was the fire he ignited within you, the way his presence chased away the numbness that had plagued you for so long. It was reckless, it was dangerous, but it was exactly what you needed. The emptiness was too much to bear, and if he could fill it, even for just a moment, you were willing to take that chance.

As you left the bar, wrapped in the stranger’s arm, the world blurred around you. For the first time in what felt like forever, you weren’t consumed by the void. The thrill, the anticipation—it was enough to make you feel alive again, even if it was fleeting.

—

Present

The team was gathered around the round table, JJ had just finished briefing everyone, her voice steady as she laid out the grim details. As the discussion continued, Emily’s brow furrowed as she reviewed the case file in front of her, something sparking a memory.

“This reminds me of the Atlanta case… Hotch, do you know what department Y/N is in? I want to ask her a question about that case file,” Emily said, her eyes still scanning the paperwork.

Hotch’s expression remained neutral as he answered. “She’s not here right now. You can get the file from the archives if you need.”

Penelope immediately picked up on the shift in tone. Her concern was evident as she asked, “Where is she?”

Hotch didn’t hesitate, his response professional and matter-of-fact. “I wasn’t made aware of the specifics. She’s on a leave of absence.”

Emily looked up, her curiosity piqued. “Do you know how long she’ll be gone?”

Hotch’s gaze was steady as he replied, “I do not. Why don’t you call her if you’re concerned? But let’s stay focused. This isn’t pertinent to the case at hand.”

The room fell into a brief, awkward silence, the unspoken questions lingering in the air. The team exchanged glances, sensing that there was more to the story, but knowing better than to press further. Hotch’s tone made it clear that they needed to get back to the task at hand, and so they did, though the concern for your absence lingered in the back of their minds.

—

“Spencer,” Penelope’s voice cut through the quiet hum of the break room, startling him.

“Ah! You scared me, Garcia,” Spencer exclaimed, nearly dropping his mug.

She didn’t smile or laugh at his reaction, her expression unusually serious as she approached him. “How did it feel?” she asked pointedly, her voice carrying a sharp edge.

Spencer blinked, confused. “What?”

“Hurts, doesn’t it?” she taunted, using the same words he had cruelly thrown at you.

Realization dawned on Spencer, and a wave of anxiety washed over him. “Penelope, what are you talking about?” he stammered, already dreading where this conversation was headed.

Penelope’s eyes narrowed, her tone full of disappointment. “I heard you, Spencer. I held Y/N as she cried. I don’t know what happened between the two of you, but that was a nasty scene. And I am seriously disappointed in you.”

Spencer winced, guilt twisting his insides. “I know… I messed up.”

“No kidding,” Penelope shot back, crossing her arms. “What are you going to do about it?”

“I don’t know,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. The truth was, he hadn’t thought that far ahead. He had been so caught up in his own anger and hurt that he hadn’t considered the consequences of his actions.

“Well, you’d better figure it out,” Penelope said firmly. “Because this isn’t like you, Spencer. You’re better than this, and she deserves better than what you did.”

Spencer nodded, feeling the weight of her words. He knew she was right, and the guilt gnawed at him, but he was at a loss for how to make things right. As Penelope turned to leave, he was left standing there, staring into his now-cold cup of coffee, wondering how he could possibly begin to fix the mess he had made.

—

Flashback…

“Hey, hey, are you alright?” an unfamiliar voice asked, cutting through the quiet of your tearful moment.

You sniffled, wiping your nose before looking up to see a stranger standing in front of you. “Yeah, thanks,” you mumbled, trying to pull yourself together.

“I’m Jackson,” the man introduced himself with a soft smile, gesturing toward the bench you were sitting on. “Can I sit?”

You hesitated for a moment, but then shrugged, scooting over slightly. “I guess.”

Jackson took a seat beside you, giving you space but not too much. “Do you want to talk about it?” he asked gently.

You eyed him suspiciously, your guard still up. “Is this a thing for you? Talking to crying girls on benches?”

He looked genuinely taken aback, holding up his hands defensively. “What? No, of course not. You just… you’re so pretty, too pretty to cry.”

You shot him a skeptical look, raising an eyebrow. He laughed, the sound warm and easy. “That was really bad, huh?”

“Yeah, it was really bad.” You deadpanned, expression unchanging.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make it worse.” Jackson cringed, his face morphing into one of mild embarrassment and regret.

Despite yourself, you couldn’t help but giggle a little. “No, no. It’s… it’s fine.” You heaved a big sigh, the weight of your emotions still heavy on your chest. “My, um, my partner… they just dumped me.”

Jackson’s expression softened with sympathy. “Oh, I’m so sorry. How long were you together?”

“Three years,” you replied, your voice shaky. “We started dating right out of high school.”

“Wow,” he said, clearly surprised. “And they just… ended it?”

“Yeah,” you confirmed, the pain of the breakup still fresh.

Jackson hesitated for a moment before offering, “Do you need a hug?”

You narrowed your eyes playfully, trying to lighten the mood despite your sadness. “Depends… are you going to kill me?”

He chuckled, shaking his head. “Promise I won’t hurt you.”

You gave a small nod, and before you knew it, Jackson wrapped his arms around you in a comforting embrace. It was unexpected, but in that moment, it was exactly what you needed.

—

Present

“Hey, Hotch,” Spencer called out, picking up his pace to catch up to his unit chief as they walked through the hallway.

Hotch turned his head slightly, acknowledging Spencer as he fell in step beside him. “What’s up?”

“Do you happen to know when Agent Y/L/N will be back?” Spencer asked, trying to keep his tone casual.

Hotch glanced at him, his expression unreadable. “No, I don’t.”

“Alright, thanks,” Spencer replied, nodding as he looked down, feeling a bit deflated.

But Hotch wasn’t one to let things go so easily. “Why are you asking?” he inquired, his tone measured.

Spencer hesitated, searching for a reasonable explanation. “Just… have a question for her.”

Hotch gave him a considering look. “Get her number from Penelope. I’m sure she can answer any question you have that way.”

“Yeah…” Spencer trailed off, clearly not thrilled with the suggestion. He knew he could easily get your contact information, but after everything that had happened, the idea of reaching out to you directly felt daunting. Still, he gave Hotch a small nod of acknowledgment before the unit chief walked away, leaving Spencer to wrestle with the uncertainty gnawing at him.

—

Spencer knocked lightly on Penelope’s door frame, his nerves evident in the way he hesitated before speaking. “Garcia, can I come in?”

“I’m mad at you,” Penelope replied, not looking up from her computer, her tone sharp. “Enter at your own risk.”

Spencer nodded but stepped inside anyway, taking a cautious seat across from her desk. “Could you give me Y/N’s number?”

“Absolutely not,” Penelope said immediately, her voice firm. “You’ve done enough to that poor girl.”

Spencer shifted uncomfortably. “I thought you wanted me to fix things?”

“I do,” Penelope said, finally turning to face him. “But getting her number from someone else is tacky.”

“What should I do then?” Spencer asked, genuinely at a loss.

Penelope eyed him for a moment, considering. “I don’t know, Spencer. You could go to her apartment, make a grand gesture.”

“Okay… but why would I make a grand gesture? Can’t I just say sorry?”

Penelope sighed, her frustration clear. “Did you see the same woman I did? She was broken, Spencer. Whatever is going on between you two cannot be solved by a simple ‘sorry.’”

Spencer sighed deeply, rubbing the back of his neck. “Can I tell you something in confidence, Garcia?”

Penelope narrowed her eyes but nodded. Despite her anger, she would never betray his trust. “I suppose.”

Spencer took a deep breath, the words coming out more slowly than he intended. “Y/N and I… well, we were intimate after the Doctor Who convention.”

“I knew it!” Penelope exclaimed, her eyes widening.

“What? How?” Spencer asked, startled.

“Doesn’t matter,” she said, waving off his question. “Continue.”

“Alright… Well, it was an amazing night. The whole day, really. We got along so well. But then when I woke up, in her apartment, mind you, I was alone with just a note asking me to lock the door. And then she showed up here acting like she didn’t know who I was.”

Penelope’s expression softened slightly, her earlier anger giving way to understanding. “Spencer… that explains a lot.”

“I don’t know what I did wrong,” Spencer admitted, his voice quiet. “I don’t know why she left or why she’s been avoiding me. And then I just got so angry, and I took it out on her… I know I shouldn’t have, but I was hurt.”

Penelope leaned back in her chair, considering his words. “Spencer, it sounds like you both have a lot of unresolved feelings. But if you want to fix this, you need to do more than just apologize. You need to show her that you care, that you’re willing to put in the effort to make things right.”

Spencer nodded slowly, taking in her advice. “I just… I don’t know where to start.”

Penelope offered him a small, sympathetic smile. “Start by being honest with her. Tell her how you feel, what you’ve been going through. And if you really want to make it right, maybe that grand gesture isn’t such a bad idea after all.”

Spencer nodded again, this time with more determination. “Okay. I’ll figure something out.”

Penelope watched him leave, a hint of hope in her heart that maybe, just maybe, Spencer could make things right with you—if he was willing to put in the effort.

—

You were curled up on your couch, surrounded by a sea of crumpled tissues, the remnants of countless tearful nights. Your eyes were puffy and red, evidence of the endless crying sessions that had consumed your days since you took a leave of absence from work. In your hands, you held a photo album, the pages heavy with memories that now felt more like burdens than treasures.

The album had been a gift from Jackson’s mom for your fifth anniversary, a thoughtful compilation of your relationship’s most cherished moments. At the time, you had been so sure it was a precursor to something bigger, something life-changing. You had even found the ring hidden away in Jackson’s things, and your heart had soared with the hope that he was going to propose. But that hope had been cruelly dashed when you learned the truth—that ring wasn’t for you. It was for Jessica, the girl he’d been sleeping with on the side, the girl who had taken your place in his life.

The betrayal was like a knife in your chest, twisting deeper with every memory you revisited. Each photo, each smiling face, felt like a lie now. You had loved him, trusted him, and in return, he had shattered you. It wasn’t just the loss of Jackson that haunted you, though. There was Margo too, the one who had left you first, making you doubt your worth, your ability to be loved, leading you into the arms of Jackson. Literally. And then there was Spencer.

You had tried so hard to keep Spencer at arm’s length, to protect yourself from another heartbreak. But despite your best efforts, he had weaseled his way into your heart. You had let your guard down, just a little, and in return, he had crushed you, just like everyone else. At least Spencer had been quick about it, you thought bitterly. Over and done with in a single, devastating blow.

Your chief had been kind enough to grant you a leave of absence, requiring little explanation. You were a diligent worker, always going above and beyond, and in their words, you deserved a break. But this break had turned into something else—a time to mourn, to dissect everything that had gone wrong in your life. You replayed every failed relationship in your mind, trying to figure out where you had gone wrong, why you were always the one left behind.

But the answers didn’t come, only more tears and more heartache. The memories in the photo album blurred as your eyes filled with fresh tears. You had thought Jackson was the one, that you were finally going to have the life you’d always dreamed of. But now, that dream was gone, replaced by the harsh reality that you were alone, yet again.

And Spencer… you couldn’t deny the sting of that particular wound. You had pushed him away, trying to protect yourself, but in the end, it hadn’t mattered. He had hurt you anyway, and now you were left wondering if you would ever truly be able to trust someone again.

As you sat there on your couch, surrounded by the remnants of your broken heart, you couldn’t help but wonder if things would ever get better. Or if this was just the way it would always be—endlessly hoping, endlessly disappointed.

—

A knock on the door pulled you from the haze of your crying-induced slumber. You blinked, disoriented and groggy, not expecting anyone. At first, you tried to ignore it, assuming it was just a delivery person or maybe a neighbor. But the knocking persisted, growing more insistent. With a groan, you rolled off the couch, reluctantly dragging yourself to the door. You swung it open, puffy face and all, prepared to shoo away whoever was there.

Instead, you were met with the concerned face of Penelope Garcia. “Oh honey, come here,” she said, her voice soft and full of warmth as she immediately pulled you into a much-needed hug.

The floodgates opened again, and you found yourself crying into her shoulder, the weight of everything pouring out of you. Penelope held you tightly, rubbing your back and murmuring soothing words as you let it all out. Once you had cried yourself dry, she gently guided you back to the couch, making sure you were comfortable before she began tidying up the mess of tissues and empty mugs scattered around.

Penelope busied herself in the kitchen, making you a cup of tea, the comforting sounds of her movements a balm to your frayed nerves. When she returned, she handed you the warm mug and sat beside you, her hand resting on your knee in a gesture of quiet support.

“Pen… you really didn’t have to do all of this,” you said, your voice hoarse from all the crying.

“I know I don’t have to,” she replied, her tone firm but kind. “I want to.”

You managed a small, grateful smile. “Thank you. You’re a really good friend.”

Penelope smiled back, squeezing your knee. “I’m always here for you, sweetie. Do you want to tell me what’s got you in such a mess?”

You let out a bitter laugh, shaking your head. “Me,” you said, the words tinged with self-deprecation. “I’m the problem.”

“I know that’s not true,” Penelope countered gently. She picked up the photo album from the coffee table, the one you had been staring at for hours. “Who is this?”

And so, for the next few hours, you told Penelope everything. You started from the beginning, recounting the pain of your parents’ divorce and how it had shaped your views on love and trust. You told her about your first relationship with Margo, how it had ended so abruptly and left you feeling lost. You explained how Jackson had swooped in that same day, picking up the pieces, only to shatter you even more five years later when he cheated on you and ruined the life you had built together.

You confessed how, after Jackson, you had spiraled, sleeping with random people just to feel something, anything. The emptiness had consumed you until you met Spencer, and for the first time in a long while, you had actually felt something real. But even that had ended in heartbreak, leaving you more confused and hurt than ever before.

Penelope listened intently, never interrupting, just letting you get it all out. When you finally finished, you felt drained but also a little lighter, as if sharing your burden had eased some of the weight on your shoulders.

Penelope looked at you with compassion in her eyes. “You’ve been through so much, Y/N. It’s no wonder you’re feeling like this. But you’re not alone, okay? You have people who care about you, who want to help you through this.”

You nodded, feeling the truth in her words. For the first time in a while, you allowed yourself to believe that maybe, just maybe, things could get better. And with Penelope by your side, you knew you didn’t have to face it all alone.

—

Spencer was struggling, caught in a whirlwind of conflicting emotions that he couldn’t quite reconcile. He knew what he had done wasn’t okay—it was uncalled for, cruel even. But despite that knowledge, there was a part of him that felt vindicated. After all, you had hurt him first. In his mind, that gave him a reason, however flimsy, to lash out.

He knew it was an extremely childish and lame excuse, but he was grasping for straws, trying to justify his actions to himself. The rational part of him recognized that his behavior had been immature and unprofessional, but the wounded part of him clung to the idea that you deserved it. You had made him feel abandoned and discarded, so why shouldn’t he make you feel the same?

But as much as he tried to convince himself that he was in the right, the guilt lingered. Spencer had always prided himself on being better than this—better than petty revenge, better than letting his emotions get the best of him. And yet, here he was, refusing to apologize, holding onto his hurt like a shield to protect himself from the vulnerability that had already been exposed.

The truth was, Spencer didn’t want to apologize. Not yet. Because apologizing meant admitting that he had overreacted, that he had let his feelings dictate his actions in a way that was unbecoming of him. It meant acknowledging that he had hurt you, just as you had hurt him, and that scared him. It was easier to stay angry, to keep the wall up between you, than to face the messy emotions lying beneath the surface.

But deep down, he knew that this wasn’t sustainable. He couldn’t keep holding onto his grudge, not if he wanted to move forward. The tension was eating away at him, and no matter how much he tried to justify his actions, the truth was undeniable: you both had hurt each other, and the only way to heal was to confront it head-on.

Yet, for now, Spencer was stuck in limbo, torn between the desire to hold onto his pride and the nagging realization that he needed to make things right.

—

The atmosphere on the jet was warm and filled with camaraderie as the team reminisced about their time together, particularly the time they had spent with you while JJ was on maternity leave.

“JJ, you would have loved her,” Derek said, a nostalgic smile on his face as he recalled your time on the team.

“I did get to meet her briefly before I went on leave!” JJ replied happily. “She was so sweet. I’m glad she was a good fit while I was gone.”

“Yeah, of course, we’re all so happy you’re back,” Emily added, gazing lovingly at JJ. “But if you need a break, you know who to send!”

Spencer sat quietly at the back of the jet, watching his teammates share fond memories of you as they traveled home from their first case with JJ back on the team. Everyone seemed to miss your positive attitude and bright presence—especially Spencer. Not that he was going to admit that, not even to himself.

During a video chat with Penelope, Derek’s curiosity got the better of him. “Garcia, you went and saw her this week, right?” he asked.

“Yeah, I did,” Penelope confirmed, though her voice held a note of hesitation.

“Oh! How is she?” Emily asked excitedly.

Penelope paused, trying to tread carefully. “Um, she’s holding up,” she said, not wanting to give too much away but also not wanting to lie.

“Did something happen?” Derek asked, concern etched on his face. He had grown to care about you and was worried about what might be going on.

“Just some… personal things. She’ll be okay,” Penelope assured them, though her words did little to ease the tension.

Hotch, always the pragmatist, jumped in. “Did she say when she’ll be back? Emily and Spencer expressed interest in her help on previous cases.”

Everyone’s attention shifted to Spencer at that remark, surprised by Hotch’s comment. As far as they knew, Spencer wasn’t exactly your biggest fan. What they didn’t realize was that Spencer had asked Hotch about you in private, hoping for answers he didn’t want to admit he was seeking.

“No, she didn’t mention when she’ll be back to work,” Penelope replied, trying to sound casual.

The conversation eventually moved on, but Spencer stayed quiet, lost in his own thoughts. The knowledge that you weren’t doing well gnawed at him. Guilt tightened its grip on his heart. God, I’m an asshole, he thought bitterly.

Back at Quantico, Derek wasted no time. He cornered Spencer as soon as they got off the jet. “Reid, can I talk to you for a sec?” Derek’s tone left no room for refusal.

“Yeah, what’s up, Morgan?” Spencer replied, trying to keep his voice steady.

“Walk with me,” Derek said, leading the way to the break room, which was thankfully empty at that time of the evening. Once they were inside, Derek didn’t waste any time. “Do you remember telling me nothing was going on between you and Y/N?”

Spencer gulped, his throat suddenly dry as he realized where this conversation was headed. He could feel Derek’s eyes boring into him, the weight of his scrutiny heavy. “Uh-huh,” Spencer managed to get out, his voice tense.

Derek didn’t miss a beat, his expression unwavering as he leaned in slightly, his tone flat and unyielding. “I call bullshit.”

Spencer’s heart rate kicked up a notch, his mind scrambling for a way out of this. “Wh—what do you mean?” he stammered, trying to keep his composure even as his anxiety began to spike.

Derek crossed his arms, his gaze steady and unflinching. “You’re being weird, Reid. More so than usual.”

Spencer could feel the heat rising in his face, a flush of embarrassment mixed with frustration. He rolled his eyes, attempting to deflect with a weak jab. “Thanks,” he muttered, though he knew it wouldn’t be enough to throw Derek off the scent.

But Derek wasn’t letting it go, and Spencer knew he was cornered. The truth was about to come out, whether he was ready for it or not.

“I just mean that you’ve been moody, distant, grumpy. You snap at people, question Hotch. Anytime Y/N’s name is brought up, you get all twitchy, and you think we don’t notice, but we do. What happened, man?”

Spencer sighed, knowing he was caught. Stupid profilers. He realized there was no use trying to hide it anymore. Maybe if he confided in someone else, he could get some advice. Garcia was too biased, after all.

“Well, uh… we slept together before she started.”

“Whoa. Didn’t see that coming,” Derek admitted, clearly taken aback.

“Yeah. And she… she ditched me in the morning. In her own apartment. Never heard from her again until she showed up here.”

“Shit, man, really?”

“Mhm. I was so mad at her. She was acting like nothing happened, like she didn’t know me. So when we got that assignment in the club, I saw my opportunity, and I took it.”

Derek’s expression grew serious. “What did you do, Reid?”

“I… I used her,” Spencer confessed, his voice small.

Derek’s eyes widened in shock as he processed what Spencer had just revealed. “What? How?” Derek asked, his voice laced with disbelief, as if he couldn’t quite comprehend that Spencer, of all people, had done something so out of character.

Spencer swallowed hard, the weight of his actions pressing down on him. “That night… after the club… I went to her hotel room, and we… slept together. Again,” he admitted, his voice faltering slightly. “But this time… I left her.”

Derek stared at Spencer, the silence heavy between them. When he finally spoke, his tone was filled with disappointment. “That’s cold, man,” Derek said, shaking his head slowly, the disapproval clear in his voice. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing—this wasn’t the Spencer Reid he knew.

“I know,” Spencer replied quietly, his guilt evident. He looked down, unable to meet Derek’s gaze, the shame of his actions gnawing at him. He had crossed a line, and he knew it.

“There’s more, isn’t there?” Derek pressed.

Spencer nodded, his shame overwhelming. “When we got back here, everyone was gone—at least, I thought they were—except Y/N. And I—I went up to her and said some nasty things. Letting her know I did it on purpose.”

“Reid… who are you?” Derek asked, his voice tinged with disbelief.

“I don’t know!” Spencer admitted, tears welling up in his eyes. “I’ve never felt like this before, and I feel so terrible. I don’t know how to fix it.”

Derek stared at Spencer, disbelief etched across his features. "Can you fix it? That’s fucked up, man."

Spencer’s shoulders slumped, the weight of his actions pressing down on him. “Yeah, I’m not sure,” he whispered, his voice thick with regret and self-loathing. He couldn’t meet Derek’s gaze, the shame too overwhelming.

Derek sighed, his mind working to piece together the situation. “You said someone else was there?” he asked, his tone cautious as he tried to understand the full scope of what had happened.

“Penelope,” Spencer confirmed, the word coming out almost as a sigh.

Derek’s eyes widened slightly. “And she didn’t tell me? I’m gonna have to spank her,” he muttered, shaking his head, though his voice lacked its usual playfulness.

“She told me to fix things,” Spencer continued, his voice trembling slightly. “I guess Y/N was a mess.”

“I bet she was,” Derek said, his tone softening with a mixture of sympathy for you and disappointment in Spencer.

“But I don’t know how,” Spencer admitted, his frustration evident. He was desperate to make things right, but he was lost, unsure of where to even begin.

Derek’s expression grew stern, his disappointment clear. “Honestly, Reid, you’re on your own with this one. I’d love to help, but… I’m really disappointed in you.” His words were blunt, but they needed to be. Spencer had crossed a line, and Derek wasn’t going to sugarcoat that.

Spencer nodded, tears finally spilling over as he realized just how badly he had screwed things up.

Derek’s expression softened slightly. “I still love you, and I want you to make it better, but I wouldn’t blame her for not forgiving you.”

“I know,” Spencer whispered, his voice barely audible as he grappled with the weight of his actions.

—

After Penelope’s visit, you really tried to pull yourself together. Knowing that you had a friend who was willing to show up, help, and listen just because they cared was enough to get you off the couch. It was a reminder that you weren’t as alone as you felt, that there were people who genuinely cared about your well-being. That realization gave you the strength to take the first steps toward healing.

You began by slowly cleaning your apartment, reclaiming your space from the chaos that had taken over. The simple act of tidying up felt like a small victory, a sign that you were starting to regain control. You indulged in some much-needed self-care—long baths, good food, and moments of quiet reflection. It was during these moments of solitude that you finally allowed yourself to confront the emotions you had been avoiding.

In the end, you came to a few important realizations. Yes, you did like Spencer more than you had anticipated, more than you had wanted to admit to yourself. But he had hurt you, and that pain couldn’t be ignored. You wondered if you could ever trust him again, and whether you were willing to take that risk. After much contemplation, you decided that it was time to be the bigger person. You needed to apologize to Spencer, to acknowledge your part in the situation, and to put it all behind you so that you could move forward—both professionally and personally.

However, the thought of facing Spencer in person was daunting. It felt like too much, too fast. You had already done more personal growth in the past few days than you had in years, and you weren’t quite ready for that kind of confrontation. So, you chose the next best route: writing a letter. It was a way to express yourself honestly without the pressure of a face-to-face conversation.

You took a deep breath and began to write.

Spencer—

Clearly, we have let things get too far, and we are both to blame for that. I’m sorry that I initially approached you and started things up between us. And I am sorry for leaving you that morning; I was so used to avoiding intimacy that when I felt a spark with you, I ran instead of confronting it. That was my mistake, and you did not deserve that.

I was unaware that you had felt something as well. Had I known, I would have talked to you sooner instead of facing you with pure professionalism.

As for our last case, let’s just forget about it and put it behind us. I want to be able to work together in the future and not hold any grudges if that is okay with you.

I hope you can forgive me. I’m sorry, Spencer.

Y/N

You read the letter over a few times, making sure it said everything you needed it to. It wasn’t perfect, but it was honest, and that was what mattered. You hoped that by reaching out, you could begin to mend the rift between you and Spencer, even if it was just enough to work together without the weight of the past hanging over you.

With the letter finished, you carefully folded it and placed it in an envelope. As you sealed it, you felt a small sense of relief. Whatever happened next, at least you had taken the first step. The rest was up to Spencer.

—

Returning to work the next week, you felt a renewed sense of purpose. The time off had done you some good, giving you the space to process everything that had happened and to refocus on what mattered. You were ready to dive back into the work that you loved, ready to face whatever challenges came your way—bad guys and all.

But before you could truly settle in, there was one task you needed to take care of. You arrived at the office extra early, the halls still quiet and the lights dim. You moved through the bullpen with a sense of stealth, hoping to avoid any of your early-rising colleagues. The letter to Spencer was safely tucked into your bag, and you were determined to drop it off on his desk without anyone noticing.

You approached his workspace, heart pounding slightly as you pulled the envelope out and set it down. You took a moment to look around, ensuring you were alone, before placing it neatly on top of the stack of papers already waiting for him. The envelope stood out against the manila folders, a small but significant gesture.

You didn’t know how or if you’d hear back from Spencer. Part of you wondered if he’d read it and simply brush it aside, or if he’d respond in some way. But regardless of the outcome, you felt a sense of closure just knowing that you had reached out, that you had done your part to clear the air. Whatever happened next was in his hands.

With the letter delivered, you headed to your own desk, ready to start the day. There was work to be done, cases to solve, and while the tension with Spencer might still linger, you were determined not to let it hold you back. For now, you would focus on what you did best—being a valuable member of the team and making a difference in the world.

—

Spencer walked into work as usual, his routine in full swing as he slung his bag over the back of his chair. But something on his desk caught his eye—a white envelope with his name written on it in a familiar handwriting. He froze, recognition dawning on him. It looked just like the writing on the note you’d left him that morning at your apartment.

His heart pounded as he quickly opened the envelope, unfolding the letter inside. As he read your words, a sinking feeling settled in his stomach. You thought you were to blame? Spencer’s guilt surged, hitting him like a tidal wave. He had been angry and hurt when you left him, but now, realizing how much pain he had caused you in return, he felt even more like an asshole than before. This wouldn’t do at all. Spencer couldn’t stand the thought of you carrying the blame for what had happened between you two.

He knew he had to find you—now. He needed to make things right.

Without wasting another second, Spencer made a beeline for Penelope’s lair. He found her surrounded by her monitors, fingers flying over the keys.

“Garcia,” he began, trying to catch his breath, “do you know what department Y/N is in? I need to talk to her, apologize.”

Penelope turned to him, eyebrows raised skeptically. “Counterterrorism.”

“Thank you!” Spencer replied, already turning on his heel to head toward the elevator.

He punched the button for your floor, his nerves growing with each passing second. The setup was similar to their own, and it didn’t take him long to find the cluster of desks where you were stationed. He spotted someone he recognized—Jordan—and hurried over.

“Jordan, is Y/N here?” Spencer asked, trying not to sound too frantic.

“Uh, hello to you too, Spencer. Yeah, she’s in her office,” Jordan replied with a bemused smile.

“Thanks!” Spencer said quickly, making his way to the office with your name on the door. He paused outside, taking a deep breath to steady himself before knocking.

“Come in,” he heard your voice call from inside.

He pushed the door open and stepped inside, feeling a rush of emotions as you looked up from your desk. Your eyes widened slightly in surprise before your expression quickly shifted to one of neutral professionalism.

“Hello, Doctor Reid. Can I help you?” you asked kindly, though there was a distance in your tone that made Spencer’s heart sink.

“You should have never apologized to me,” Spencer blurted out, unable to hold back.

You blinked, confused. “I’m sorry?”

“No, no, I mean—I should be the one apologizing,” Spencer clarified, his words tumbling out in a rush. “I was the jerk. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Spencer…” you began, but he could see the weariness in your eyes. “It’s over. Let’s let the past be the past.”

“No!” Spencer’s voice was more forceful than he intended, and he took a step closer to your desk. “I don’t want to push it aside. I want to talk about it. I want to fix things between us.”

You seemed taken aback by his intensity. “Why?”

“Because I care about you. I like you,” Spencer admitted, his voice softening as he finally voiced what he had been keeping inside.

“Oh,” was all you managed to say, your own emotions conflicting.

“Yeah,” Spencer let out a nervous laugh, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. “I was kind of hoping you’d say you liked me too.”

You hesitated, glancing down at the papers on your desk before looking back up at him. “Oh, well, um, can we talk? After work? I’m really busy right now,” you said, your tone apologetic.

Spencer felt a pang of defeat, the familiar sting of rejection threatening to surface again. But he nodded, trying to keep his voice steady. “Yeah, do you want to come to mine?”

“No,” you shook your head gently. “How about we just talk here? Can you come back around 6?”

“Okay,” Spencer agreed, though the sinking feeling in his chest didn’t quite go away as he turned to leave your office.

As he walked back to his own floor, he couldn’t help but worry about what the conversation would bring. But he knew one thing for certain—he wasn’t going to let this chance to fix things between you slip through his fingers. Not again.

—

When Spencer returned to the bullpen, he immediately noticed Derek standing in the doorway to Penelope’s office. The two of them seemed deep in conversation, their body language tense. Spencer’s gut told him they were talking about him—he could feel it. The atmosphere had shifted, and when Derek glanced over his shoulder and caught sight of Spencer, his suspicions were confirmed.

Spencer knew he couldn’t avoid this, so he gathered what little pride he had left and walked over to them, trying to appear more composed than he felt.

“Baby girl here tells me you went to see Y/N?” Derek asked the moment Spencer stepped inside the office, his tone a mix of curiosity and concern.

“Yeah, I tried to apologize,” Spencer admitted, his voice lacking its usual confidence.

“Tried?” Penelope’s voice was softer than it had been earlier, her concern for both of you evident.

Spencer sighed, running a hand through his hair. “She left me a note this morning. It was on my desk when I got here. She took responsibility for everything that happened, asked if we could forgive and forget. I felt so awful because I’m the one who made a mess of everything. So I went to go tell her that, but she asked me to come back after work because she’s busy.”

Penelope exchanged a glance with Derek, her expression softening further. “And how did that make you feel?” she asked gently.

“Defeated, I guess,” Spencer replied, his shoulders slumping slightly. “I wanted to fix things right away, but it feels like I just keep making things worse.”

Derek crossed his arms, his gaze steady on Spencer. “You’ve got to understand, man, she’s probably just as conflicted as you are. Maybe even more. This isn’t going to be a quick fix.”

Penelope nodded in agreement. “She’s trying to process everything too, Spencer. Give her the time she needs, and don’t push too hard. But don’t give up either. If you really want to make things right, show her that you’re willing to do the work.”

Spencer nodded slowly, taking in their advice. He knew they were right, but the waiting, the uncertainty—it was eating at him. Still, he couldn’t force this. He had to be patient, had to respect your boundaries. He just hoped that when the time came, you’d be willing to let him in again.

—

The clock felt like it was crawling at a snail's pace to Spencer. He watched as the seconds ticked by for what felt like hours—though it was really just minutes, probably. To you, though, time was slipping away faster than it ever had before. You were dreading this conversation. You had hoped the two of you could put this all behind you, maybe be friends one day, and then, maybe—just maybe—something more. But you knew that if you talked to him right now, one look into those big, beautiful brown eyes and you’d melt faster than Derek when Penelope called his name.

But alas, you had already agreed to talk, and those puppy eyes had already got you. Honestly, you were just proud of yourself for having the resolve to ask him to come back later instead of jumping over the desk and into his arms the second he said he liked you.

Your thoughts were still spiraling when that much-anticipated knock on your office door came. You cleared your throat, trying to steady yourself, before calling out, “Come in.”

—

Flashback…

“Come in,” you called out, your voice light and unassuming as a knock sounded on your office door.

“Hey,” Jackson’s head appeared in the doorway, his expression hesitant.

“Oh, hey babe,” you perked up at the sight of him, but something about his demeanor immediately put you on edge.

“Can we talk?” he asked, stepping inside with an uneasy shift in his posture.

“Uh, yeah,” you replied, your smile fading as you sensed that something was off. “What’s up?”

“Uh, so there’s not a great way to tell you this…” he started, his voice trailing off, filled with uncertainty.

Your stomach twisted with sudden anxiety. “What happened? Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. For now,” he answered, but there was no comfort in his tone.

“Jackson, spit it out,” you demanded, losing patience as the tension built.

“I got someone pregnant.”

Your entire world stopped. The air around you seemed to thicken, your ears buzzing like they were filled with water, your lungs constricting as if you were drowning on dry land. The words didn’t make sense, not at first. Not until they slammed into you with full force.

“Who?” you managed to choke out, though a part of you already feared the answer.

“Jessica.”

“My best friend, Jessica?” The disbelief in your voice was palpable, a desperate hope clinging to the idea that this might be some horrible joke.

“That one, yup,” he confirmed, his voice lacking any hint of remorse.

“Are you fucking kidding me? Please tell me this is a joke and you’re going to propose instead,” you pleaded, your voice rising as anger and heartbreak collided.

“What? No, Y/N, I’m being serious.”

“Then why did I find a fucking engagement ring in your sock drawer?” you demanded, your anger boiling over as your heart cracked in two.

“Why were you in my sock drawer?” he deflected, his tone defensive.

“I was doing laundry! Answer me, Jackson!”

“I’m going to ask Jessica to marry me,” he said, his words hitting you like a sledgehammer.

Your mind raced, trying to make sense of the betrayal. “Is it because she’s pregnant… or do you love her?” you asked, your voice trembling. You weren’t sure you wanted to know, but you needed the truth.

“I—I love her,” he admitted, his voice weak.

“How long?” you asked, your voice eerily calm as the tears began to stream down your face. The numbness was already setting in, the shock taking over, leaving your gaze blank and distant. Jackson had never seen you like this in all the years you’d been together, not even when he first found you on that bench.

“What?” he stammered, thrown by your sudden composure.

“How long have you been sleeping with her?” you repeated, the question sharp and cold.

“A few months,” he confessed, his voice barely audible.

“Get out,” you ordered, your voice devoid of emotion.

“Y/N—”

“Get the fuck out, Jackson!” you shouted, the rage finally breaking through the numbness.

Jackson hesitated, guilt flashing in his eyes. “Um, before I go—and I will—you need to move out.”

The final blow. The nail in the coffin. You couldn’t believe the audacity, the cruelty. “I hope you both live a very unhappy and unfulfilling life,” you spat, your voice dripping with venom.

“I’m sorry, Y/N,” he offered weakly, but the apology was hollow, meaningless.

You turned away from him, unwilling to give him the satisfaction of seeing any more of your pain. Jackson left without another word, leaving you alone with the shattered remnants of what you thought was your future.

—

Present

Spencer walked in, closing the door softly behind him before turning to face you. “Hi,” he breathed out, his voice carrying a mix of nervousness and resolve.

“Hi, Spencer,” you replied, your tone equally cautious but warm.

“How was your day?” he asked, clearly trying to ease into the conversation that both of you knew was coming.

“Agonizing, thanks. And yours?” you responded, a hint of humor lacing your words despite the tension.

“Just about the same,” he admitted with a small, rueful smile. “I’m sorry about that too. Should we just lay it all out? No more tiptoeing around?”

“Probably,” you agreed, feeling the weight of the conversation ahead settle in your chest.

“Okay,” Spencer said, taking a deep breath as he prepared to speak. “I can go first if it’s easier.” You nodded, gesturing for him to continue.

“Um, I don’t date much. Or sleep around, ever, really. So spending that night with you was important to me. Especially because it was with you,” he said earnestly, his eyes meeting yours with sincerity. “I really enjoyed the time we spent together—the convention, the bar, your place, all of it. I was so, so hurt when you were gone the next morning. It took me weeks to make peace with the fact that you’d left without a word. And then you showed up to my work, the new girl, and acted like nothing ever happened. While I understand now why you did that, it still stung—a lot.”

Spencer paused, taking a breath as if to steady himself. You opened your mouth to respond, but he shook his head, signaling that he wasn’t finished yet.

“But even when you were pushing our time together aside, you were so kind and helpful, so good at your job… it sucked,” he laughed lightly, though there was an edge of bitterness to it. “Because I wanted to hate you so badly, but I don’t know how anyone ever could hate you.” Your eyes welled up with tears at his words—he had no idea how much that simple sentence meant to you.

“Then you noticed little things about me,” Spencer continued, his voice softer now. “You drove when we were paired, you never grabbed my hands, you didn’t force me to talk to you… you were so considerate. When we had that assignment to play a couple at the club, I was so upset because that’s all I wanted—I wanted you to be my girlfriend, I wanted it to be real. But it wasn’t,” he smiled sadly, his eyes reflecting the regret he felt. “And afterwards, when I was feeling sorry for myself, I decided it was your fault we weren’t together, and that I wanted to hurt you back.”

Spencer looked down, fidgeting with his hands as he searched for the right words. You waited, sensing that this was the hardest part for him to admit.

“That was the meanest, cruelest, most immature thing I have ever done. And I am so, so sorry,” he said, his voice trembling with genuine remorse. “I understand if you don’t forgive me, but I just need you to know how amazing you are, and how none of my actions are at all a reflection of you or how I feel about you.”

His words hung in the air between you, heavy with the weight of everything unsaid. You could see how much it had taken for him to come here and lay it all out, to admit his wrongs and ask for forgiveness. And as much as the hurt still lingered, you could see that he was sincere, that he truly regretted what he had done.

—

Flashback…

“Y/N! Y/N, please! Just hear me out!” Jackson’s voice was desperate as he called after you, his footsteps quickening as he tried to catch up.

You stopped in your tracks, spinning around to face him, your glare so hot it could have burned him alive. “Jackson! Enough!” you seethed, the fury in your voice cutting through the air like a knife.

“Please… I need to explain,” he pleaded, his eyes wide with panic.

“Explain what?” you snapped. “You cheated with my best friend, got her pregnant, and dumped me. What more is there?”

His face crumpled as he tried to find the right words. “I still love you,” he blurted out, his voice trembling with emotion.

“Go fuck yourself. Or Jessica. I really don’t care,” you retorted, your voice dripping with disdain.

“No, baby, please—”

“Do not call me that,” you cut him off, your tone icy.

“Okay,” he muttered, stepping back with his hands up in surrender. “Just, please?”

You crossed your arms, staring him down. “Fine. Two minutes.”

Jackson blinked, caught off guard by the time limit. “How am I supposed to tell you everything in two minutes?” he asked, panic rising in his voice.

“Time’s ticking, troglodyte,” you shot back, your patience wearing thin.

“What’s that? Wait, no, don’t answer that,” he stammered, realizing he was wasting precious seconds. “Okay, well, I just… I’m so insecure, and I was worried you didn’t like me anymore, and Jessica made me feel good about myself—”

“Bullshit,” you interrupted, your eyes narrowing.

“No, no, it’s true,” he insisted, his voice wavering.

“You’re saying it’s my fault you cheated?” you asked, your voice deadly calm.

“No! You were so busy, and I needed attention,” he said, his words tumbling out in a rush.

“So it’s my fault,” you repeated, your anger simmering beneath the surface.

“That’s not what I meant,” he said quickly, his voice rising in desperation. “Please, stop interrupting me. We got into this routine that made every day feel so mundane. We never did anything exciting anymore, and Jessica was new and thrilling, and—”

“Time’s up,” you interrupted, your voice cold and final. “Bye.”

“Y/N—” he started, reaching out as if to stop you, but you were already walking away, your footsteps resolute as you disappeared down the crowded sidewalk.

Jackson stood there, his hand falling limply to his side as he watched you vanish into the throng of people. He knew, in that moment, that he had lost you for good.

—

Present

“You wanted me to be your girlfriend?” you asked, your voice small and uncertain.

Spencer looked up, startled by the calmness in your tone. There was no anger, no bitterness—just a quiet curiosity. “Yeah, I really did,” he admitted, his heart racing.

“You don’t anymore?” you asked, your eyes searching his face for an answer.

“Huh?” Spencer blinked, caught off guard by the question.

“You said ‘wanted’ and ‘did,’” you explained, your voice wavering slightly. “I’m just wondering if the feelings stopped.”

Realization dawned on him, and he quickly shook his head. “No, they didn’t.” Spencer’s heart pounded in his chest as he took a bold leap, hoping it was worth the risk.

You took a deep breath, gathering your thoughts as Spencer watched you, his nerves on edge. “Listen, Spencer…” you began, and his heart sank as he braced himself for the rejection he feared was coming. He dropped his gaze, the weight of your words pressing down on him. “I have a lot of baggage. I’m basically damaged goods,” you laughed sadly, the sound tinged with self-doubt. “I haven’t been someone’s girlfriend in a long time. I don’t know that I would be any good at it.”

Spencer nodded, feeling the final sting of rejection sink in. He understood, or at least he thought he did. But then your words started to process, and something didn’t add up. “Wait,” he said, his head snapping up as he noticed the small smile playing on your lips. “What are you saying?”

You met his gaze, the warmth in your eyes catching him off guard. “I’m saying, if you’re willing to be patient with me, I’d love to be your girlfriend.”

Spencer’s breath caught in his throat, disbelief and joy swirling together as he processed what you were saying. A smile slowly spread across his face, the weight he’d been carrying for weeks suddenly lifting. “Are you serious?” he asked, his voice filled with hope.

You nodded, your smile widening. “Yeah, I’m serious.”

In that moment, Spencer felt something he hadn’t felt in a long time—pure, unfiltered happiness. He reached out, his hand trembling slightly as it found yours. “I’ll be patient,” he promised, his voice soft but firm. “I’ll be whatever you need.”

You squeezed his hand, a sense of relief washing over you as the tension between you finally began to melt away. For the first time in a long while, you felt like maybe, just maybe, this could work.

“What if all my baggage is too heavy?” you asked, your voice trembling slightly with lingering doubts.

Spencer’s expression softened as he looked at you, his eyes filled with understanding. “Y/N, I’ve been kidnapped, drugged, addicted to said drugs, and tortured. I don’t think anything you say will scare me.”

You couldn’t help but laugh through the mild tears that had formed over the course of the conversation. His words, though dark, were comforting in their own way. “Thank you, Spencer.”

“Are you sure you can handle me?” he teased, a playful glint in his eyes.

“Not at all,” you shook your head, your laughter mixing with his. “But I’d rather be with you than without.”

Spencer’s heart swelled at your words, and without thinking, he leaned over your desk and kissed you. This kiss was different from all the ones you’d shared before—it wasn’t driven by lust or desperation, but by care, passion, and something that felt a lot like love.

When he finally pulled back, he couldn’t help but smile at the dazed look on your face, your lips still parted slightly in surprise. “One more thing,” he added, his voice light but a little sheepish.

“Mhm,” you managed, still a bit breathless as you looked up at him.

“Penelope and Derek know everything… sorry. They’re pissed at me.” Spencer laughed a bit at himself.

You blinked, then smiled. “Penelope already knew, babe,” you reassured him. “I’ll make sure they know everything’s good.”

Spencer let out a relieved sigh, grateful for your understanding. “Thank you,” he said softly, his hand gently brushing your cheek.

You leaned into his touch, the weight of your worries finally beginning to lift. Whatever challenges lay ahead, you knew you wouldn’t have to face them alone—not anymore.

—

Three years later

“Y/N?” The sound of your name caused you to spin around from where you were examining flowers with Spencer.

“Jackson?” The shock in your voice was unmistakable as you registered the familiar face.

“Oh my god, wow!” Jackson exclaimed, stepping closer with a broad smile. “It’s so good to see you! How have you been?” He moved in for a hug, but you kept your hands on the flowers, avoiding the embrace.

He quickly took the hint, stepping back awkwardly. “Uh, good. You?” you asked, your tone polite but distant.

“I’m great, yeah! Still working on base. What are you up to?” Jackson’s voice held a note of forced cheerfulness, as if trying to bridge the years that had passed.

“FBI,” you replied simply.

“Wow! That’s amazing! What do you do—” Jackson began, but his question was abruptly cut off as Spencer approached, holding a different set of flowers and unaware of who Jackson was.

“Darling, what do you think of these?” Spencer asked, holding up the bouquet for you to see, his tone casual and affectionate.

“Those are beautiful, baby,” you replied with a warm smile, feeling a sense of calm wash over you as you turned your attention back to Spencer.

Jackson cleared his throat, drawing your focus back to him. “Who’s this?” he asked, clearly caught off guard by the presence of another man.

“Oh!” You had honestly forgotten he was still there. “This is my fiancé,” you said, a note of pride in your voice as you gestured to Spencer.

“Doctor Spencer Reid,” Spencer introduced himself, nodding politely but with a friendly demeanor.

“Oh, hi. Uh, Jackson,” he replied, awkwardly extending his hand, which Spencer smiled at and lifted his in a wave as a response.

There was a tense silence, filled only by the ambient noise of the flower shop. Jackson looked like he had more to say, but the words seemed to elude him. Meanwhile, you felt nothing but gratitude for the life you had built with Spencer—one filled with love, trust, and a future that Jackson no longer had any part of.

“Are you guys, uh, looking at flowers for your wedding?” Jackson asked, his voice a little hesitant as he glanced between you and Spencer.

“Yeah, we wanted to pick everything together,” you replied, smiling up at your very handsome fiancé. The warmth in your voice was undeniable, and it wasn’t lost on Jackson.

“And you?” Spencer asked politely, still unsure of who this man was but trying to be courteous.

“Oh, uh, these are ‘I’m sorry’ flowers for my girlfriend,” Jackson laughed awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck, clearly uncomfortable with the situation.

“Jessica?” you asked before you could stop yourself. At the mention of her name, Spencer’s expression shifted, finally catching on to who Jackson was.

“No, hah, we broke up a long time ago,” Jackson admitted, the awkwardness between the three of you growing palpable.

“Ah, well, I hope your child is doing well,” you said, your tone polite but distant. You nodded to Jackson before turning back to Spencer, gently tugging him by your laced fingers as you both walked away, trying to stifle the giggles that threatened to escape.

Once you were out of earshot, Spencer leaned in, a mischievous grin on his face. “Was that your ex?”

“Mhm,” you confirmed, grinning back at him.

“What a charmer,” he teased, his eyes sparkling with amusement.

You laughed, the tension from the unexpected encounter melting away. “You know, I’m really glad it’s you I’m marrying.”

“Me too,” Spencer replied, squeezing your hand affectionately as you both walked out of the shop, leaving the past firmly behind you.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

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ellemaru · 9 months

Text

"I Like Your Bike"

Biker!Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem Reader

Summary: On your way back to the hotel with friends, a shiny black motorcycle that belongs to a mysterious serviceman catches your attention.

Word Count: 1,289 Cw | Mentions of alcohol and intoxication

A/N: The character is implied to be black, but you can imagine them however you like !

Drunken laughter mingled with the sounds of other chatter on the bustling street as you walked with your 2 girlfriends and talked with each other, recapping your first day in Manchester, England, and the first out of many stops on the two-month-long trip in Europe. Your heels had become uncomfortable long ago, making you ever so grateful that you had been smart enough to think to bring a pair of flats along as you indulged in Manchester’s nightlife. The group had barhopped and chatted with strangers all night, getting the full Manchester experience as everyone explored the city and took in the views.

As the group neared their hotel, something shiny appeared in the corner of your eye, causing you to slow down your walking speed, the swinging heels in your hand slowing down as your strides did. Your brown eyes narrowed slightly as you tried to make out what the thing was, struggling due to the fact that it was night and you were nearsighted. As you tapped your friend’s shoulder and began to walk toward the unknown object, your eyes adjusted slightly, realizing it was a motorcycle, one of the nice, slick, black ones.

You mindlessly began to run your hand along the smooth and shiny exterior of the motorcycle until a voice popped you out of the trance.

“Mate, you can’t just touch random people's bikes,”

When you looked up, you were met with a brick wall in the form of a man. He stood around 6’3 and was obviously jacked based on the way his compression shirt hugged his pectoral muscles and biceps. His bright hazel eyes practically had you hooked already, was it the alcohol, or were they that pretty? No one knows, but you did know that this guy was HOT.

“Uhhh, I um,” you giggled and tucked a piece of hair behind your ear before remembering that

You are NOT Debby Ryan and you are NOT on Radio Rebel

You forgot to lay the lace down again by your ear when you installed your wig earlier

The man cocked an eyebrow as he looked down at you, the action slightly concealed by the black balaclava he wore that had a skull print on it, an interesting choice considering the heat.

“Are you not hot in that mask?”

“Did you not notice your friends aren’t here anymore?” he replied with a teasing tone.

When you turn around, you see that your friends have indeed left you with the mysterious man and continued on to their hotel.

“Lass, I think you need some better friends,” he let out a quick chuckle, like…the personification of haha.

“Your laugh is funny,” you giggle as you lean in closer to him, looking at the metal tags that hang around his neck.

“Simon Riley,” you read his name slowly as you looked up, tilting your head to the side slightly, wondering if it was actually his name or if he was wearing a deceased relative's dog tags. He nodded as he looked back down at the smaller woman. They sat in silence for several awkward moments before you decided to break the silence.

“I like your bike,”

“Thanks,” annnnd it was back to silence again

“You don’t talk much,”

“Not much to talk about with a random drunk lass I’ve met,”

“Fair point…What kind of bike is that?” that question was all you needed to get Simon’s attention.

That one question led to a whole conversation as he explained the ins and outs of his bike which was apparently a Yamaha R1 but other than that, he was fluent in yapping. The only thing you were focused on was his deep voice, thick British accent, and the way his compression shirt hugged all the right places on his torso. It seemed he didn’t even notice that you were looking at him with hearts in your eyes, mainly due to the fact that you had drunk way too much earlier.

“Wanna go for a ride?” he asked you as he leaned against his bike.

The first thing that ran through your mind was “What kind of ride”.

“Huh?”

“I asked do you want to ride my motorcycle with me, like, do you want to be my backpack?” he asked again, giving his signature, stereotypical haha laugh.

“Oh uhh sure! I mean um that sounds like fun or whatever,” when you caught yourself seeming too eager, you changed up the way you phrased your sentence quickly.

When he turned around to give you a jacket and a helmet, he patted his pockets like he always does when he’s missing something before groaning from annoyance and pinching the bridge of his nose with his gloved hand.

“Well, I unfortunately don’t have an extra jacket or helmet on me right now so it seems we won’t be doing any riding today, but we could always do it another time I guess, dunno,” he mumbled the last part, “How long will you be here in Manchester?” he inquired, wondering how much time he would have before you would leave the city and the country

“I think we’re going to be here for at least another week,” you shrug as you see him frantically pull out his phone, almost dropping it once before he hands it to you, the contact screen open. Once you two exchange numbers, silence falls upon the two of you again.

“I could walk you back to your hotel if you would like, I don’t like the idea of you walking alone at night, especially as a tourist. Plus my mom would kill me if she found out I didn’t offer,” he laughs as he holds out his arm towards you.

“That would be nice,” you smile as you hook your arm in his, your brown skin contrasting with his pale one. He quickly unhooks his arm to place his leather jacket over your shoulders before linking arms again and heading on your way to the hotel. During the walk back, the two of you got to know each other, learning about interests and current status in life along with cracking jokes and just breaking the ice. It was about a 15-minute walk back to the hotel and once the two of you got back, you sighed, a little sad that your time together was already over for the day.

“We’re here. Thank you for walking me back to my hotel again, it was really sweet of you to do this because you really didn’t have to,”

“Of course, what kind of man would I be if I didn’t offer?” he snapped a flower from a nearby plant and handed it to you, “a pretty flower for the pretty lass,” he winked as you took it.

“Ugh, you Brits are such charmers, I’m quite sad to say that it worked too,” you both laughed for a few moments as he unlinked your arms.

“You free tomorrow at 19:00?”

“I’m so glad I understand military time, and yes I am,”

“Alright lass, I’ll be here in the lobby then, make sure you’re on time,” he gently takes your hand in his gloved one and kisses it through his balaclava. He gives one more wink before he turns on the heels of his combat boots and strides confidently out of the hotel. You stood there, absolutely shocked at what occurred before you realized you still had on his leather jacket. You ran outside to find him and tell him he had forgotten his jacket, but by that time, he had already disappeared into the cool Summer night. At least that meant you were guaranteed to see him tomorrow because there was no way he would just forget the nice leather jacket.

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theemporium · 3 months

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Hi!!! First of all, congrats on hitting 10k!!! That is such a huge accomplishment and I can’t think of a more deserving blog!!!

For the cocktail celebration (which is such a cute idea omg!!!) could I possibly get 🩷 “The fastest way to shut me up is to kiss me.” with poly!TrevorJack x reader!!! (Or just Trevor if you don’t write poly!TrevorJack anymore, I’m just lowkey obsessed with that smut blurb you did with them haha but no worries if not!!!!) Congrats again Cece!!!!

thank you for requesting!🫶🏽

23. “The fastest way to shut me up is to kiss me.”

One of the perks of being best friends with the Hughes family was the access to the lakehouse during the summer.

And every summer, you could guarantee one thing for certain—where Jack and Trevor went, the other always followed.

It was the same every year without a shadow of a doubt. They were always attached to the hip, always pressed up against each other on the couch or sat next to each other on the boat. Jack was always Trevor’s partner in beer pong and Jack always chose Trevor first when they played a friendly tournament of volleyball.

Even despite the number of friends in the house, they always shared Jack’s room on the second floor at the end of the corridor. Every single year.

You never once thought anyone could come between them, let alone for them to want someone between them.

Let alone for that person to be you.

It was somewhere in the third week at the lakehouse when it all happened. The lot of you had decided to have a BBQ, Quinn putting himself in charge of the grill whilst everyone else helped out here and there before you all settled around the fireplace. There was a crate of beers shared amongst you all, someone playing music from a speaker that appeared out of nowhere and Cole and Alex arguing over whether the fire needed more wood or not.

Ultimately, Quinn told them both to sit down and stop poking the fire with a large stick.

One by one, everyone trinkled back into the house when the tipsiness began to wear off and the exhaustion started to hit. But you were still buzzed and happy and far too awake for your own good. You were content staying out a little longer, finishing the last dregs of your beer before heading back upstairs.

You hadn’t even realised you had been left alone with Trevor and Jack until they both shuffled closer to you, one on either side and both bright eyed and cheeks flushed.

“Has anyone ever told you that you look really pretty in the firelight?” Trevor asked, all smiley and giggly as he tilted his head towards you. “Because you do. Like, you really do.”

You snorted. “How drunk are you, Zegras?”

“Drunk enough to know I’m right,” he answered with a confident nod of his head.

Jack giggled. “He is right, though.”

You rolled your eyes, telling yourself that your face felt hot because of the fire and not the compliments they were throwing at you. “You’re both talking out of your asses right now,” you laughed off. “I should have known better than to think you two yappers wouldn’t be as talkative when you are drunk.”

“You know,” Trevor started, flashing you a mischievous smile. “The fastest way to shut me up is to kiss me.”

Your mouth went dry at his words as you stared at him, a bit helplessly.

“It’s true,” Jack spoke up, the warmth of his body settling behind you as he hooked his chin on your shoulder. His breath was warm and ticklish against your cheek as he spoke, as he looked between you and Trevor. “And he’s a pretty damn good kisser if I do say so myself.”

Trevor grinned. “Thanks, babe.”

“I—” You started but words were difficult to find. “What?”

“Wow, don’t even need to kiss you to shut you up,” Trevor joked before jokingly pouting. “A shame. It’s kinda all we’ve been wanting to do all summer.”

“That’s also true,” Jack hummed, his nose lightly nudging your cheek. “We’ve just been waiting to get you alone.”

“You’re both drunk,” you breathed out, fighting the urge to tear your eyes away from Trevor’s heated gaze.

“We’re drunk, not liars,” Trevor retorted. “We know what we want. We want you.”

You blinked. “Both of you?”

Trevor’s smile widened. “Two for the price of one.”

“I…I think this is a very weird alcohol-induced dream,” you murmured out, feeling Jack shake with laughter behind you.

“Why don’t you kiss him and find out?” Jack mused and you could hear the smirk in his voice.

You gulped. “What about—”

“We don’t kiss and tell, baby,” Trevor assured you, seeming far too relaxed about the whole situation. “It’s just you and us here right now.”

“No one but us,” Jack hummed. “But we have one rule.”

“What’s that?”

“You kiss him then you kiss me,” Jack grinned. “Can’t be making me jealous, babe.”

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pintrestgrl · 23 days

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best friends brother!Rafe x Reader (she's friends with Sarah) Rafe and reader decide to tell there families about each other since they've been serious for a while but their families already knew because they sucked at hiding it.

(also i seen 🪼anon claim an emoji so i thought i would do the same with💐because i gave you flowers when i told you i love your writing. if that's okay)

hiii 💐 anon !! and i love this idea !! also for ur other request, would you like reader to be a kook or pogue? you can just send me the answer in my asks and ill include it in the original ask idea !!

tysm for all the requests and follows and likes and everything !! i’m overwhelmed by all this but trying my best to get out at least 2 asks/ posts a day.

also i think this will be my last post for the day as ur girl is drained. i have 4 asks right now and will probably get out at least 2 tomorrow ! pls forgive me 🥹

enjoy !!

bestfriends brother!rafe x kook!reader.

you realized then, that sarah must’ve been the only one blind enough to see the love-filled relationship between you, and maybe that was for the best.

you and rafe first started secretly hooking up, completely lust filled nights, no feelings attatched.

but, after you had continued for a few months, you caught feelings.

he rejected the idea, opposed to any real and serious relationship with any girl. especially his sisters best friend.

you knew it was wrong to feel this way, knew you’d be betraying her trust. but, you couldn’t find yourself staying away from him.

however, he couldn’t deny the reciprocated feelings he had began having too. he found himself caring about you maybe a little too much.

so, he came to you one quiet, rainy evening and sat at your doorstep, confessing everything he had felt from you since the first time he got you in his sheets.

you both equally decided it was best to keep it hidden from his and your parents, and especially sarah. he didn’t need her lashing out at him right now. so, you opted for sneaking kisses through your bedroom window, and staying out past curfew at the boneyard together.

after about 4 months of the secret rendezvous, things started getting serious. it wasn’t just young teenage infatuation anymore, it was love. real love.

your parents were both kooks, and close family friends as you and sarah were.

you decided to sit down with ward first, getting the harder action out of the way first. all 3 of you were sat in his study, nervously fidgeting around the leather seats.

“why’s she here? sarah’s out right now.”

“yeah, i know dad. can i just talk to you about something?”

“yeah. spit it out though, i have other stuff to do then sit here.”

rafe would slowly, but surely tell ward about how you two had feelings for eachother, and had for a while now. he left out the part about how you had gained those feelings, though.

ward stayed silent for a moment, before laughing. you and rafe glanced at eachother in confusion, before hearing ward speak.

“yeah, no shit son. i know that. everyone knows that, besides sarah. she somehow hasn’t figured it out yet.”

“what? you know? and, who’s everyone?”

you’d blurt out, speaking out of turn in shock.

“of course i know. and so does rose, and your mother and father. it’s a common topic at dinner, really.”

“you’re serious, dad?”

“yes, i’m serious. now, i have better things to do then sit here and listen to you tell me something i already know.”

he’d grumble, still laughing to himself at how silly this situation was, standing up off the couch and exiting the room.

you and rafe were silent for a moment, before slowly starting to laugh to yourself at how bad you must’ve hid it.

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron scenarios #rafe cameron x reader #rafe coded #rafe obx #rafe outer banks #obx au #outerbanks rafe #rafe x you #rafe #rafe fanfiction #rafe x reader #rafe imagine #rafe fic #brothers best friend!rafe #kook!reader #obx fanfiction

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mewhenimanangel · 3 months

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cherry, eren jaeger

—synopsis. you and eren reunite after almost two years.

—chapter 10 ౨ৎ

𝜗𝜚 content!: au-college/university, time skip, black reader, au-modern, reuniting, confessions, oral sex, breastplay, piv sex, missionary, filthy smut, long chapter

previous ౨ৎ

nia’s ౨ৎ notes: this chapter is pretty long but i felt it was necessary. i loved this story so much it was so cute and so sweet. thanks for reading! 🫧🎀

today was lana's birthday, her 21st to be exact, and you were driving down to her apartment for her party, you were quick with your movements considering you were running a little bit late and it was an hour and a half drive down.

it had been almost two years since you graduated from high school. since then you committed to your dream college about an hour away from home and you were studying for your dream career.

you had a part time job at a clothing store near by and a paid internship at a marketing brand company, so you were always busy between those obligations and classes. but there was no way you were going to miss your best friend's birthday.

your college experience was enjoyable for the most part - you joined the dance team, and were part of the honors program for the school. you were lucky enough to find a really nice roommate, evanie, who you grew fairly close to the last two years, you guys even agreed to continue being roommates as long as you attended the school.

you met a few friends at uni - brooklyn, who was a total party girl and who always brought the excitement. brooklyn's girlfriend, dana, who was a little more introvert than brooklyn, but was really funny and a talented artist. and you met parker, a charming and caring guy with a lean body, in your statistics class freshman year.

who which you hooked up with a bunch of times, and though he assured you he loved every second of it, he decided to come to terms with the fact that he was gay and you guys decided to stay friends.

thanks to brooklyn, you went out a lot more than you thought you would. clubbing, sleepovers with the group, a road trip to the beach - which you missed an exam for, you went to parties here and there, hooked up here and there.

you hadn't really been in any relationships in college, it was more or less, sex. you had this thing with a guy you'd met at a party. his name was daniel, but insisted everyone called him danny. he was on the basketball team.

your thing with him lasted about two months before he accepted a transfer offer to a better school and decided that whatever you and him were, wasn't enough of anything to hold on to. but there were no hard feelings, you were thinking the same.

after he transferred halfway through this school year, it had you thinking about eren again. who you had a sneaky suspicion would be at this party tonight, though lana swore he wouldn't.

it's been almost a year since the last time you spoke to him. not because of anything bad, you just grew apart.

he went to the university of marley and you both just got so busy that you never really talked much anymore.

over the summer before college, you had hooked up at jean's fourth of july party. no one knew about it.

once the barbecue was over, eren offered to drop you home. though, once he pulled up outside your house, something came over the both of you and you smashed your lips against his.

you were lucky eren's windows were tinted so nobody could see the way you crawled over the console to sit on his lap while his mouth left marks all over your neck. or how you grinded your hips against his growing dick.

his hands tangled in your hair as he laid his car seat back and pulled his pants down.

you shook the memory out of your head as you turned left down an intersection. you called lana to tell her you were on your way as you anxiously checked your back seat to make sure her gifts were in fact there.

you had gotten her a designer bag you knew she always wanted and you got dana to paint a picture of the two of you when you were younger.

you searched for five minutes for a parking spot outside of lana's apartment before you went up the elevator to her floor.

you rest the painting and the gift bag at the side of her door before you knocked, it was a rather big painting and you didn't want her to see it just yet.

lana opened the door with a big smile on her face and arms out ready to give you a hug. "happy birthday oh my god you're becoming a big girl" you joked as you squeezed her tight.

"ugh i'm just so glad you made it" she hugged you tighter. "of course i would make it" you said as you held her arms. you took the chance to look past her for a second, the apartment was filled with people - some you recognized, some you didn't. there was music bumping, and people dancing.

you could see a table by her windows filled with mini sandwiches, snacks, deserts, and pizza. everyone was dressed nice as lana told everyone to.

there were pink streamers and flowers decorating her already decorated apartment. she offered for you to live with her full time and as much as you would've loved to, it was just too far from your school. so during the summers, after going back home to your mom, you would spend weeks at a time at her apartment.

"i got you a present" you smirked as you leaned down to grab the gifts of the floor. "ooou you did?" she smiled.

you showed her the painting and she smiled before thanking you and bringing you to her bedroom.

"i'm definitely hanging this up in my living room once all these people leave" she told you and you giggled.

"oh and i have this" you handed her the gift bag as she opened it to find the purse. "no fucking way! how did you buy this?? don't you have student loans to pay off?" she joked.

"alright not too much cause i could take it back real quick" you laughed "i got it when it was on sale" you told her.

"you know im just playing with you, thank you so much" she hugged you again. "did connie come yet?" you asked her. "no not yet" she smirked "why, worried about eren showing up?"

"no!...no i'm not worried. i'm sure he's moved on too. it's just been a while" you shrugged. "you want me to tell con not to bring eren?" she asked you as she lead you out of the room.

"y/n! oh my god i've missed you so much" sasha threw her arms around you for a hug. "i didn't know you'd be coming" she told you. "hey sash, i've missed you too" you smiled. "you have to try the mini sandwiches" she told you. "oh i will" you giggled before she walked over to the table of food.

you said hi to some more familiar faces, occasionally falling into conversations with them - usual questions about school, work, life, etc. before lana found you again.

the sun was beginning to set and you joined your friends in the living room, dancing and sipping on your drinks.

"i'll be right back okay?" lana told you and you nod your head as you continued dancing with mikasa and sasha.

she opened her front door to see connie and eren standing on the other side. "oh baby i'm so sorry. there was so much traffic" connie immediately threw his arms around her. "happy birthday my love, im so sorry" he kissed her forehead.

"it's okay, you can make it up to me later" she winked before bringing him in for a kiss.

"hey eren" she waved before he brought her in for a side hug. "what's up, happy birthday" she smiled and thanked him.

she closed the door behind them before grabbing connie's hand. "come on baby i wanna show you what y/n got me" she pulled him to her room.

eren perked up at the mention of your name. obviously he knew you would be here but actually being here knowing you were in the same room was a little too real.

"yo man, what took y'all so long" ony dapped him up. "so much traffic" eren hugged him. "it's good to see you bro it's been mad long" ony told him. "yeah man i've been keeping busy"

they talked for a bit before eren’s eyes scanned the room before landing on you. you looked even more beautiful than the last time he saw you, you looked so mature and confident.

your complexion was a little more tan than before, your hair looked as though you’d cut it shorter and it was straightened. you were in a pretty yellow dress and a cute little pair of open toed heels. there was a glass of wine in your hand as you talked to someone he didn’t recognize.

his heart sank when you looked over for a moment and your caught his eyes on you. there it was again, those tantalizing eyes and that charming smile.

the last time eren saw you was in armin’s pool as you all decided to do one last hang out with the group before you would be going your separate ways. after that the most you and him did was text, which fizzled out, his last message with you dating back nine months.

you felt your heart pick up when your eyes landed on eren. his hair was even shorter now, almost back to the way you remembered he wore it in middle school. he looked like he had put on a bit of muscle and grown an inch or two. his outfit looked nice and put together. you indulged in the thought that he got dressed today with you on the brain, the way you did.

you just stood there looking at each other, it became almost rude to the people you were both talking to. you excused yourself from your conversation before making your way over to him.

“hey stranger” he said first, same old grin on his face. ony took this as a sign to step away and let the two of you mingle. “hii, it’s so nice to see you” you reached out to hug him, holding out your drink. his arms wrapped around your waist.

“how’ve you been? you look good” you told him. “thanks,, i can definitely say the same about you” you didn’t miss the way his eyes trailed over you for a second as your lips curled into a smirk.

“so what’s up with you?” you asked him. “just keeping busy you know, school is slamming me. i’ve been working with some brands though”

the two of you talked for longer than you realized, catching each other up on your lives. you poured him a drink before you made your way out onto lana’s fire escape. you talked about your respective college experiences, work, your internship, his projects with brands, anything your minds led to.

talking with him made you realize how much you’ve both grown since the last time you saw each other and just how much you both missed each other.

you took a second to really look at each other as, just for a moment, eren’s eyes dipped down to your lips. a sly grin drew on both your faces as you let out a giggle.

“i have to ask, are you…seeing anyone?” he asked you “no not necessarily” he searched your face for an answer before you laughed. “no, no i’m not” you told him.

he took a step closer to you, standing so close you could feel the fabric of his jeans brush against your knee. you looked up at him, still taller than you even with your heels on, waiting for what he would do next.

“so,, does that mean i can do this?” he brushed your hair out of your face, letting his hand rest on your cheek and leaned in. you grinned as you followed along and held onto his waist, lips meeting for just a moment before connie knocked on the window, making you both jump and step away from each other.

“save that for later, we bout to sing happy birthday come on!” he told you before stepping away.

you looked at each other and laughed before climbing back into the apartment and joining everyone in singing happy birthday.

you and connie were first to give lana hugs and kisses and get your pictures taken before everyone else did the same. the whole time, eren’s eyes were just on you. he missed your smile, and your laugh, and the way you always made other people smile.

once the party was over you, connie, and eren stayed behind to help lana clean up. the four of you talked for a bit, munching on cake and the finger foods you were helping her put away.

“well i think it’s time i head out” you yawned. “okay there’s no way you’re leaving, your campus is like an hour and a half away. plus you’re still tipsy” lana insisted.

“how about you stay in the second bedroom?” she offered. you took a second to look at eren, hiding the small smirk on your face. lana clocked it immediately. “um i can take her” eren spoke up. “hm, very well then.” she nod her head before coming to give you a hug.

“stay safe and make sure he has a condom” she whispered in your ear and you giggled.

eren led the way out of lana’s apartment and down to your car. you let him drive since he had less to drink than you did and he drove to his brother’s apartment where he was staying.

he led you upstairs and opened the door to a spacious apartment with big windows overlooking the city. “jesus what does your brother do” you asked as eren closed the door behind you. “he’s a doctor or something like that. he’s not here though” eren told you as he leaned against the counter and watched you look down at the city.

you turned around to see a mischievous glint in his eyes. he cleared his throat before showing you to the guest room. “um there’s some clothes i had left in there from when i came down here with my mom if you wanna change” he told you.

“aw how is she?” you asked earnestly. “she’s good, she still loves and misses her prized dancer” eren grinned.

ʚɞ

you woke up in the middle of the night looking for water when you saw eren sitting at the kitchen island, doing something on his computer.

he turned your way when he heard the door open. “oh hey, can’t sleep?” he asked you. “nah, just thirsty” “there’s some water in the fridge, i’ll get you some” he got up to take a bottle of water out and handed it to you and you thanked him.

“what are you working on?” you asked him. “something for a class, i was supposed to finish it earlier but i put it off for lana’s party….which I’m glad i did cause i got to see you” he turned to you at the last part.

“i missed you a lot you know” he told you. “i missed you too. it was so nice seeing you again”

he didn’t say anything for a moment and you watched as though the gears in his head were turning.

“y/n….i really want to be with you. i can’t keep ignoring it anymore. i’ve wanted to be with you since we everything senior year. i tried to just push it down and get over you and try on new people but nobody fits, nobody but you. i don’t want this to be like last time, i don’t want this to be the last time i see you for another two years. it’s time for us to grow up and for me to admit that i really fucking want you and i think you want me too…”

you felt like you got the wind knocked out of you with the mini monologue he went on declaring his feelings for you.

“of course i want you too. i want you so bad eren, i don’t think my feelings for you ever really went away. i just, i don’t even know i was just a stupid seventeen year old who didn’t know what to do but i do know now. i want to be with you ren”

a moment went by before eren pulled you in for a hug. “god i’ve been dreaming to hear you say that” he mumbled into your shoulder while your hands played with the back of his hair.

he lift his head off your chest to look up at you and before you could even think, your lips were on his.

the kiss quickly changed from a soft pace to the two of you kissing like your lives depended on it. it was filled with years of tension and need.

eren stood up from the chair, pushing you up against the wall behind you as his hands dipped underneath the shirt you wore and held on to your waist. your mouths continued fighting to taste each other as your arms were wrapped around his neck.

you groaned in his mouth when you felt him grope your boob from under your shirt and his thumb grazed over your nipple. you felt him smirk against your mouth. “still like getting your tits played with?” he teased before moving to leave kisses and marks down your neck.

he reached for the bottom of your shirt and pulled it over your head, throwing it somewhere in the living room. he grabbed your boob and put it in his mouth, letting his tongue swirl over your nipple and sucking on it like a sweet.

a moan fell past your lips as you felt your face getting hot and you tangled your fingers through his hair. he pointed his tongue directly on the sensitive bud, reveling in the sweet noises you were making, like music to his ears.

you could feel your panties moistening by the second as you let your head lay back on the wall. he moved off your tit to show the other one some love, groping at it before putting it in his mouth.

he kissed along your collarbones before meeting your lips again. your hand dipped between your bodies and you teasingly grazed your fingers over the tent in his shorts. “mm what are you doing princess” “haven’t heard that one in a while” you grinned. “i wanna suck your dick” you looked him straight in the eyes.

“i won’t stop you” he smirked. you lowered yourself to your knees, keeping your eyes on his. you reached for the waistband of his shorts and pulled them down, revealing his dick print against his boxers. you pulled those down too.

face to face with his flushed dick, you wrapped your hand around it, slowing pumping to tease him. you licked a kitten lick over his tip, smirking when you heard his sharp inhale.

you pumped his cock between your fist as he let out small moans. most of the guys you’d hooked up with during college were too full of themselves to make any noise during sex. you enjoyed the groans he gave as he carefully held your hair in his hand.

you finally put his dick in your mouth, starting with his tip while you continued jerking him off. you slackened your jaw and manually breathed through your nose as you felt his cock fill your mouth. eren was definitely the biggest you’ve been with.

you combined your vacuuming lips with the licking of your tongue and it sent eren over the edge. one hand held onto the wall in front of him while the other kept a hold on your hair.

“fuck you’re so good at that” he whimpered. you licked along a vein near his tip and you felt his dick jump in your mouth.

“fuck y/n, think i’m gonna cum” he began shifting his hips, pushing himself further in your mouth. you felt his tip touch the back of your throat and you willed yourself not to gag, tears pricking your eyes. “you want my cum in your mouth, princess?” you nod your head.

a few seconds later he came and you swallowed every last drop. somehow, he was still hard and ready to go.

you got off your knees and he hugged your waist before kissing you again. “i’ll make you some tea for your throat” he said before lifting you up and carrying you back to the guest bedroom. he closed the door with his foot before laying you down on the bed.

you propped yourself up on your elbows as he pulled your pants and your panties down in one swift motion before he pulled off his wife beater, throwing all the pieces of clothes somewhere in the room. you think this is the first time you’ve seen each other fully naked.

“you’ve been working out?” you asked, trailing your hands over his soft abs. “yeah but i haven’t been in a while” he crawled on the bed and spread your legs, placing himself between them.

he squeezed your boobs before trailing his hands down to your vagina. you moaned feeling a finger rub over your clit before dipping in your hole.

he smirked before reaching over to the nightstand and pulling out a condom. “no need,,i’m in the pill. i wanna feel you” you told him.

he leaned down to kiss you again. “gonna fuck you so good baby” he whispered in your ear before lining his dick up with your entrance.

he eased himself inside you, hands gripping your hips as his hips snapped against yours in an erotic rhythm.

you felt him fill you up, brain going fuzzy. you reached behind you to grip onto the pillows. “oh my fucking god, ren- feels so good” your words came out airy as every hump inside you made you lose your breath.

your tits bounced and you felt the bed squeak as eren got more rough with his thrusts. “you feel so fucking good princess, like this pretty pussy was made for me” his grip on your hips got tighter.

your pussy engulfed his dick, you could feel his balls slapping against your skin.

the room was filled with the vulgar noise of your skin slapping against his, your pornographic moans, and eren’s grunts. for a second you wondered if the neighbors could hear you.

but you were too busy getting fucked out to care.

eren threw your leg over his shoulder leaning down to deepen himself inside you. “oh my god eren i’m gonna cum” a moan ripped out of you at the new angle.

“go ahead baby, wanna feel you rush on my dick” he kissed your forehead, holding on to the headboard behind you.

it didn’t take long for the knot in your stomach to snap and you were cumming all over eren’s cock. he followed suit soon after too and the two of you sat there for a few seconds trying to catch your breaths.

he pulled you in for a hug and you could feel his heart racing against your chest. you stayed like that for a while, hugging each other while eren’s dick was still buried inside you. “i think i love you y/n, if that’s not insane to say” he said, making you chuckle.

“it’s not. i love you too” you said before he pressed his lips against yours. this one much different than the one before - this one soft and gentle and sweet.

you kissed each other, never wanting to let go now that you’ve made your way back to one another.

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carolperkinsexgirlfriend · 10 months

Text

Steddie Upside-Down AU Part 43

Part 1 Part 42

Will’s loitering around the school, Dustin, Will, and Lucas plastered to his sides like burrs as he waits for Jonathan to get out of school and pick him up. The hallways are almost empty – everyone else allowed to take buses, and ride bike, and walk home; Will left the odd one out.

Even his friends who are dawdling by his side as they walk the empty parking lot have bikes chained up at the front of the school. They’re only still here because Will’s not allowed to be left alone. By anyone.

The air is crisp, biting into his cheeks, but it’s too crisp to be the other side. Snow is on the horizon, not ash. He can smell it.

Mike’s talking about El in a hushed voice, moaning about Hopper blocking all access like the protective Father he isn’t. Will wishes his problems felt as small as Mike’s are,, and promptly feels bad about the thought.

It’s just, winter is in the air, and the sky is getting darker earlier each day. In a few more weeks, Will’s not sure he’ll even be able to get home after school without the specter of the Demogorgon hunting him from the shadows between each tree.

He wishes he didn’t live so close to the woods.

He wishes he could live in Steve and Eddie’s pockets like they live in each other’s. He only feels covered when he’s looking at Steve Harrington’s broad back.

Jonathan’s car pulls into the empty parking lot, and Dustin, Lucas, and Mike run off with shouts of goodbye. Only Dustin looks back, waits for Will to shuffle into the passenger seat before waving and peddling quickly to catch up.

Jonathan’s heat is up high enough to hurt. Will sinks into it, puts his frozen hands up to the vents to dethaw.

“How was school?” Jonathan asks, The Doors playing near silently from his crackly radio.

“It was okay,” Will says, thinking of Zombie Boy shouted out at him like a slur in the hallways. Thinking about how sometimes he’ll walk up to his friend’s and be greeted by abrupt, strained silences, like a few days in the Upside-Down has made him a freaks among the freaks.

Jonathan hums, but doesn’t press. WIll loves him for it. As they drive toward home, the long-familiar fishhook feelings hooks and yanks his stomach. In a moving car, it’s almost a queasy thing, like he always imagined being on a sailboat would feel. He’s being pulled in two directions and his organs are sloshing around with it.

“Can we go see Steve and Eddie?” Will asks quietly.

Jonathan’s hands clench hard, shitty steering wheel vinyl creaking. He sighs, like a dog when you won’t share a piece of your dinner no matter how hard it begs. He takes a u-turn without a word, heading toward Forest Hills, knowing just like Will does that if they’re not already there, that’s where Steve and Eddie will end up soon.

Will knows they’re not there yet before Jonathan parks in the vacant spot where Eddie’s van usually presides. He puts it in park, doesn’t take the key out of the ignition, turns the heater down just a hair.

“I just don’t get it,” Jonathan says, looking at the Munson’s closed front door, not looking Will’s way at all.

“Get what?” Will asks, even though he knows.

Jonathan sighs that same sigh. “Just–” he runs a hand through his discheveled hair until it partially covers his eyes, “you spend a few days with them and now it’s like they’re all you think about.”

Will looks down at his lap, can’t meet Jonathan’s eyes even when he feels his brother turn to look at him. Left unsaid in the space between them is that Jonathan doesn’t get them, doesn’t get him anymore, when they’re all each other has had for years.

“You weren’t there,” Will says. He knows it’ll hurt even before Jonathan breaths in like he’s been shot.

The heater and radio static break up the silence. Will can still feel it.

“Can you–” Jonathan srarts. Will sees, out of the corner of his eyes as Jonathan reaches out toward him before dropping it. “Can you try to explain?” Will looks down at his dirty sneakers, thinking. He doesn’t have the words. But hten Jonathan says, “please?” all quiet and desperate and Will turns.

He pulls his feet up onto the seat, arms wrapped around his knees, turning his body to face Jonathan as Jonathan does the same. Jonathan’s knee bangs on the bottom of the steering wheel, but he gets it all the way up to mirror Will’s posture, both their shoulders hunched, both of their arms around their knees.

“I was really scared,” WIll says, for the first time admitting something that was obvious. “And then they saved me.”

Jonathan nods, meeting his eyes. “And that’s it?”

Will shakes his head, looks down at the stick shift separating them. “No,” he says, fidgeting his fingers anxiously. “I think there’s something wrong with me.”

Jonathan reaches across the car, covering Will’s knee with his big palm and squeezing. “There’s nothing wrong with you.” He doesn’t understand, Will can tell.

“No,” he says, shaking his head, eyes prickling. The fishline is slackening now. He can feel it. They’re on their way. “This isn’t like that.”

“Like?”

“Like, a stupid teenager thing,” Will says. How does he say this isn’t about puberty, or growing up, or a fight with his friends, or even the isolation of the school halls where everyone treats him like he’s oil and everyone else is water.

“Okay,” Jonathan says in that calm, quiet way that always calms WIll down. “What is it then?”

Will looks back down at the stick shift, Jonathan’s foot now propped up against it after he’d stretched it out. His sneakers are too small – Will can see his pinky toe pushing up against the side.

“Like, there’s something in me,” Will says. “And it’s in them too.” Jonathan doesn’t say anything, but Will can feel his eyes on him. “I can feel them, right now.” He whispers it out, a secret in this car confessional of two.

“Feel them, how?”

“It’s, itchy? When they’re too far.” WIll says, struggling to find words he’s not sure exist. “And I can tell they’re turning into the trailer park right now.” He touches the hollow just below his ribs, looks up into Jonathan’s eyes. “Right here.”

Jonathan’s brows are furrowed, eyes intense, just as Eddie’s van comes peeling into view, parking haphazardly in front of Eddie’s trailer. Jonathan’s eyes go wide. He hadn’t gotten it until this moment. Will can see it hit him in the dilation of his pupils. “Like El?” he asks, quiet as Eddie tumbles out of the driver’s seat and rushes over to open the passenger side door for Steve like a goofy knight.

“I don’t know.”

Jonathan glances over just in time to watch a wan-faced Steve take Eddie’s hand to hoist himself out of the van. “Do they?”

Part 44

Taglist: @deany-baby @estrellami-1 @altocumulustranslucidus @evillittleguy @carlprocastinator1000 @1-8oo-wtfbro @hallucinatedjosten @goodolefashionedloverboi @newtstabber @lunabyrd @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @manda-panda-monium @disrespectedgoatman @finntheehumaneater @ive-been-bamboozled @harringrieve @grimmfitzz @is-emily-real @dontstealmycake @angeldreamsoffanfic @a-couchpotato @5ammi90 @mac-attack19 @genderless-spoon @kas-eddie-munson @louismeds @imhereforthelolzdontyellatme @pansexuality-activated @ellietheasexylibrarian @nebulainajar @mightbeasleep @neonfruitbowl @beth--b

#steddie upsidedown au #my fic #steddie fic

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satanlikesmyfics · 8 months

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Lavender

pt 1

read pt 2 here, pt 3 here

an: sorry if this lacks build up or logic:( not proofread

words: 1415

contains: dealer!ellie x f!y/n, weed/alc mentions, intoxication, fingering, tit sucking, police busted party

dealer!ellie

while you wander around the dimly purple lit room, your mind is starting to blur. you went to this party with some of your friends, although you can't seem to find them anymore. you left to explore the place your at since it's at an abandoned place, and who wouldn't find that interesting? you sit down on a red, ripped sofa with the smell of weed and alcohol surrounding you.

ellie's been walking around bored for the past 30 mins. she's seen everyone leave home with someone or hook up in some creepy room. wondering why it was even a good idea to show up, she just thinks of the wads of cash she earned selling her overpriced weed. no one around really knows how much that shit costs, so it's easy to rip people off. she remembers that she still has a bunch of weed and rolls herself a joint, sitting down on some junky looking old sofa. in the corner of her eye she spots some stunning girl she's never seen around before. your black, tight dress catches her attention and she turns slightly to get a better look.

you notice ellie staring and blush slightly. you've heard a lot and seen her pictures, sometimes romantizising about her even... you've never even met, you're so fucking weird for thinking of her that way. she probably is straight or has atleast has a girlfriend, you think to yourself, making fun of the fact you think of her. ellie leans slightly towards your ear and asks your name. "me??" you give her your rather surprised answer. what the fuck would she want from me?? "yes you, bunny. you manage to stutter your name and look away, surprised by the name she called you so casually. "y/n? I thought I heard your name before." "shouldn't you be looking for your girlfriend or something?" you ask looking back up at her, attempting to figure out her exact status. maybe you'd even have a chance?

"girlfriend?" ellie responds in confusion. your eyes widen in hope. the sudden sirens catch you off guard though, almost everyone looking out the nearest window in unison. "oh fuck" ellie mutters and grabs your wrist. "someone called the damn police" she shouts over the panic and pulls you away from the crowd. you don't fully comprehend what's happening but don't want to do anything else but follow her. stumbling through doorways and rooms a wave of fresh air hits you suddenly and you gain control of your thoughts again. ellie, still having a firm hold of your wrist looks back at you in confirmation that you're still with her. obviously you still are, you'd never leave her, especially when these moments you've been thinking about are coming true.

"where are we ellie?" you utter. you're in some field full lavender. everything looks so blue and the pale moonlight slightly lights everything up. you look up the hill and see the police cars surround the place you just managed to leave. "did we escape them that fast?" you ask without expecting any answer. "come here sweetheart, you can use my jacket" ellie answers and lays her jacket down on the wet grass. you feel a tingle in the gesture and obey. her jacket feels rough on your bare thighs. your eyes wander to ellie, who's just settling down on the grass. while your eyes are on her lips hoping she can't see in the dim light, her eyes glance at your whole body, most of all your thighs. her pussy slightly clenches at the sight of your dress up so high, revealing so much. shit, she thinks, you can't just think of her the second you meet her in person. that's weird and creepy, and she doesn't want to be like that towards you, even though she can barely help it.

she holds the joint up again delicately, which she lights once again since it had died down after the escape. "can I have a hit?" you ask. you don't really care about the drug, more the indirect touching of your mouths and the way her fingers move. she holds it towards you and you inhale deeply, coughing it out again a bit. you feel so dizzy and hazy you practically fall onto her lips. "what the fuck?" ellie asks after pushing you away. "I- I'm sorry.. I didn't mean to do that-" you reply embarrassed. "no no, please y/n, I liked it, I promise" she reassures "I'd gladly like to continue you know.." she pats her lap, signaling you to take a seat.

her lips suddenly crash onto your again, and you melt into the hungry kiss. she kisses you again, and another time, you can't keep count because it just turns into a makeout session. her hand pushes up the back of your neck into your hair and the other rests on your torso. you push your body further against hers and she moans into your mouth. she spreads out her jacket on the field and lays you down, her getting on top. her hand squeezes your thigh firmly. "what are we even doing.." she mutters and kisses your neck passionately. "we don't have to.. it's okay..." you manage to answer. she looks at you and asks if you want to because she thinks your fucking hot. you giggle and kiss her again, continuing the session.

her hand starts to wander up your thigh and you shiver at the touch. she marks your neck giving you harsh kisses and slides up your dress. you'd probably be embarrassed of you weren't intoxicated, but rn, you just want to enjoy what's happening with ellie. it's literally a dream come true and you don't want to fuck that up in the slightest. her hand starts rubbing your pussy through your panties and you let out soft moans, wanting more. your hand moves beneath her loose sweatshirt and gropes her tit. she starts moaning at the feeling of your cold hand. you pull the sweatshirt over your head and teasingly kiss around her nipple. you love teasing her, hearing her frustrated moans through yours. after her hand moves your panties to the side, you lick and suck and bite her titties. it gets increasingly harder the harder and faster the goes, through the mess of moans and pleasure and shaking you feel. your head slips completely out of her shirt and she laughs and kisses you more, slipping her thick and strong fingers inside of you. you let out a loud moan, feeling her massage your walls. the pleasure she's making you feel is getting overwhelming.

you've never had a real partner before, definitely not one as good as she's been. you've had a girlfriend who was pretty decent with her strap, and a guy who could fulfill your kinks. but someone who knew each moment to touch you? ellie could tell which spots exactly made you moan and shake and shiver, without touching you before this encounter.

snapping out of your thoughts, you let out a loud moan, arching your back further. "you feeling good baby?" ellie asks leaning down to your ear. "mhm" you answer and she thrusts her fingers deeper inside of you, making your eyes roll back in fulfillment. you've never been so close, so far on the edge before. you arch your back further feeling her going faster and faster.. mmhhmm..

"y/n?? y/nnnn.." you hear one of your friends shout maybe 100? meter away. both you and ellie freeze. she quickly pulls her out of you and wipes them on her pants without thinking. you sit up and pull your dress back down, noticing how cold it still is outside. "yeah I'm over here, I'm coming" you shout back. ellie gives you a quick kiss before you give her the jacket you've been laying on throughout the whole session. "keep it baby it's cold." she says, urging you to put it on and helps you get through the sleeves. "you go ask your friend simon for my number, she has it. text me. I want to see you again." "yeah, I will." you answer, still flustered. "good girl.. now get back to your friends and get home safely." you smile back and run over to your friend who's shouting at you to get it the van. you sit down and relax, thinking about the.. interesting.. evening you spent with ellie. "god fucking damn.." you mutter under your breath, driving away.

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wannabeschyulersister · 5 months

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so long, chicago

Without the warmth of your things in the apartment, it looked sad and cold. The boxes that you packed were stacked along the hallway. Movers were scheduled to help you in the next hour.

Your belongings would be traveling across the country with you following.

After one last sweep of the apartment to make sure you weren’t forgetting anything, you stood at the large bay window facing the city. A city that you once considered home.

You’d miss Chicago. You’d miss the people that you’d met. The connections that you formed. The memories. The laughter.

The sound of the front door opening snapped you out of your thoughts. You turned and saw Carmen walk in. You didn’t expect for him to be home anytime soon. You’d hoped that you could avoid the last interaction.

“Hey.” You said softly.

He nodded, “I thought you’d be halfway outta town by now.”

“The movers should be here any minute.”

Carmen took off his coat and placed it on the right hook near the door. Yours would normally go on the left but it was currently sitting on top of one of your suitcases.

“Richie said you stopped by the restaurant last night.”

“Yeah, I wanted to tell him goodbye.”

“I guess that’s nice.”

“You guess?”

“What do you expect for me to say, (Y/n)? I love that you’re abandoning me and everyone you’ve met here?”

“Abandoning you?” You couldn’t believe that he really said that.

“We’ve been together for six fuckin’ years! One day you wake up and realize you don’t want to be with me anymore out of the fuckin’ blue!”

“Out of the blue?,” you raised your voice, “Carmen, I dreaded making that decision for months! You were so out of touch that you didn’t even realize that we had stopped acting like a couple long before I ending things.”

Carmen chuckled bitterly, “That’s not true.”

You hadn’t planned on leaving on ugly terms with Carmen. If anything, you wanted it to be civil. You were huge parts of each other’s lives. Under all of the pain and heartbreak, there was love.

“I was the only person trying in this relationship. You would get home at one or two in the morning and I’d try waiting around just so we can have a conversation after not seeing each other all day. I planned date nights and tried to pry you out of that kitchen to notice that I was practically falling apart at the seams!” You confessed. It hurt you that he hadn’t even noticed.

“Relationships are hard! That why you have to make them work!” Carmen was visibly upset at how the conversation was going.

“I was the only one fighting for this, Carmen! When was the last time you bought me flowers or texted me to see how my day was going? I barely even heard an ‘I love you’.”

“I do love you. So much that I don’t want you to go and move to San Diego. You belong here with me and- and with your friends. People that care about you!”

“Sometimes love isn’t enough. I’m tired, Carmen. Tired of feeling like I don’t mean shit to you. I need to be with someone that wants to be with me. I want someone that won’t make me feel alone when we are together.”

Carmen closed the space between you two. It was the closest he’d been to you in days. He still smelled of the cologne that you bought him for Christmas with a faintness of the cigarette he must’ve smoked before.

“I thought we’d spend the rest of our lives together.” He said softly.

“If you thought so, then why aren’t we married? I’ve had friends in shorter relationships that have taken the next step. I’ve waited for so long for you to ask me to be your wife and every anniversary that passes, I know that it’s not going to happen. I don’t want to leave. I really loved living here. This felt like home more than any place I’ve lived in, but I can’t stay here.”

“I’ve been a fuckin’ selfish asshole. I’m sorry. You don’t know how sorry I am. Please, I’ll make things up to you. I’ll change.”

“And when things get hard? When you get busy and stressed at the restaurant, then what? It goes back to how things were? I can’t put myself through that. I can’t take that chance.” It killed you seeing him so upset but when you broke up with him, it was like you could breathe again.

You were becoming the person that you used to be. You didn’t want to sacrifice yourself for someone else that didn’t give you the time of day.

Three knocks to the front door made you step away from Carmen. You opened the door and saw the movers with a dollie and a couple of extra boxes.

“Excuse me.” You felt Carmen grab his coat and brush past you. Part of you wanted to chase him down and wrap your arms around him. You didn’t want the last image you had of him to be so hurt.

As you watched the movers grab your boxes and take them down to the awaiting truck, you grabbed the letter that you wrote for Carmen. You planned to leave it on the kitchen counter.

You didn’t know if he’d even read it. Maybe he would rip it up into tiny pieces. Maybe he would read it over and over again.

It wasn’t up for you to wonder. You were at peace with your decision and that’s all that mattered.

#carmen berzatto imagine #carmen berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto #carmen berzatto x (y/n)#carmen berzatto x you #the bear x reader #carmy x reader #the bear imagine #carmy berzatto

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ladyredmoon13 · 1 year

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DCXDP PROMPT

Your Father's Son

Isn't it unfortunate how no matter how hard you try to stop something, all you really do is prolong the enviable?

Danny stopped Dan from killing all his friends and family. He took the lesson Clockwork was trying to teach him to heart and believed that the worst had passed. True there were other problems. Other crises that he gave his attention to.

But even still the event at the Nasty Burger would always linger as a reminder of how truly grateful he was to have each and every one of them in his life.

So it came as a shock to him when the Nasty Burger blew up into smithereens right in front of him for the second time in his life. This time however was different.

He stood less than a block away from the blast. Nocked back, his head hit something hard and then everything was nothing but white noise as everything went black for him.

---------

This event could officially go down as the worst way Bruce found out he had a child.

He was enjoying a quiet Sunday afternoon with his family when he got a call. It was social services and what they had to say both shocked and saddened him to his very soul.

After the call ended he felt numb. He wasn’t sure how to feel at that time. So many emotions wreaked havoc in his mind that he didn’t know what to do with himself.

That was till Dick knocked on his door asking about the call. He knew then that he had to tell his kids. No matter what he did next he had to inform them of the situation.

So he sat them down, all of them listening with various degrees of surprise as he told them he had another son. They don't get a chance to comment though as Bruce continued speaking. The explanation getting worse and worse with each word spoken.

His son, Danny; he told them. Had been the only survivor of a horrific accident where he had witnessed all his family die. As if witnessing the event wasn't bad enough. He was now in a comma.

A comma he had been in for over a month! A MONTH! They had the information needed to contact him and they chose over a MONTH AFTER the event to notify him.

That wasn’t even the end of it. The only reason they called him at all was to get his consent to pull the plug on Danny. They wanted Bruce to pull a child he didn't even know he had off of life support.

The Bat Family were shocked. They were pissed. Most importantly, they wanted to see him. To save him if they could. Help wherever they can for him. Even if it ment giving him an organ.

(Tim- I might not have a pancreas anymore but I'll gladly give him a kidney if I can.)

Bruce just smiled at them. Telling them through unshed tears to pack a bag. They were going to see him. And they were going to help him. They'll be damned if they let another brother/son die that’s a promise!

-----------

So here is what I can see happening. They get to Amity Park and see Danny hooked up to all those monitors and immediately wondered in their sadness, just how could this happen?

They all go into detective mode and begin investigating. With the exception of one of them that decided to start a watch. That way if Danny woke up then he'll have someone there for him.

So the Bats begin investigating but hit walls at almost every turn. It was as if someone powerful and high up was trying to bury the incident. Make it as if it never happened in the first place.

During all this Danny finally wakes up. He remembers what happened instantly and as doctors try to calm him down the person left behind to stay with him calls everyone. They're relieved and make it back to the hospital.

Only Danny has disappeared. They don't know where he went or how. The doctors are confused and the Bat they left with him was only gone long enough to make the call and grab a coffee/snack.

The entire hospital is looking for Danny but Bruce has a feeling that they won't find him.

Meanwhile, Danny was staggering his way through alleyways trying to get back to Fenton Works. He knows his family and friends are dead. There was no denying what he saw.

But that wasn't the only thing he saw. There was no way he could of mistaken the stark white vans that had been parked just outside the NB just moments before the blast.

Somehow, in some way, the GIW was responsible for their deaths. And he was going to provide it. Mom and Dad, Jazz, Sam, and Tucker will have justice. He just needs to get back home a grab a few things first.

#dc x dp crossover #batman #danny phantom #danny fenton #damien wayne #tim drake #jason todd #dick grayson #batfam #coma #nasty burger #amity park

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missdaytonawrites · 1 year

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want you back • a. anderson

summary - you agree to a lowkey, fuck-buddy type of arrangement with your ex after you split. until abby just can't seem to keep it exactly "lowkey" anymore.

WC - 2.4k

cw/tw - 18+ MDNI (as always.) explicit content/smut below the cut, cheating, talk of breakups, abby's a dick for just a little bit, talk of drinking, possible ellie slander?!?! light violence, mentions of injury/blood, some hurt/comfort kinda, heavy petting, teasing, ?? strap worship ?? vaginal fingering (r! receiving) use of "little girl" as nickname, talk of strap-ons/strap on usage, serious teasing, spit play, grotesque descriptions of abby's strap, little bit of rough/meanie abby, squirting, overstim, orgasm control, mating press oooo ✨, possesive abs, im sure there is way more wowie.

AN - hooooly cow. hi there, hello wow. first and foremost; this filth was 120% inspired by @shelbita111's request and is 130% for my babe!!! she sent such an amazing idea and i defintely ran with it lol, i hope you love this! sorry i got a lil' carried away!

"i'll take the fall and the fault in us. i'll give you all the love i never gave before i left you."

four months, roughly one-hundred and twenty-one fucking days. you had just finally started to feel clean, your system had been undoubtedly flushed of abigail fucking anderson. you had been sooo, so strong. your friends had implored you for stickin’ to your guns and letting her go.

..or so they thought.

all 121 days of those four months you had been unapologetically fucking abby behind everyones back, and it was good. good for you, abby could fuck and you happily accepted everything she gave you.

for abby? this was torture, pure torment being enflicted upon her at your disposal. in a way, she only had herself to blame. four months prior to whatever you could call your current arrangement, you had caught a very drunk abby with her hands (and mouth) all over some name-less broad at her birthday party. instead of causing a scene that night, you quietly left and sent abby a text making her aware of your new relationship status.

she let you be for a couple days or so, letting you be the one to decide if it was really over or not. when she hadn’t heard from you by then, guilt crept right up on her, took a couple swings… and won. so she took it upon herself to show up unannounced at your place with some vodka and blue gatorade. she was gonna end this problem the way she started it.

but when the door opened and you saw her.. you thought she was insane and gave her a 6 minute speech before you even let her over the threshold.

once she was in.. after a slightly pointless conversation and lots of apologies from her, you proposed to keep it on the down-low. you would agree to keep seeing her but no feelings attached, and on your own terms.

much to her dismay, abby agreed.

which meant when rare situations like this happened, she had to keep her lips fuckin’ sealed. it was not something she could describe as “easy.” in her eyes, you two never broke-up. you’re still hers, but she knows it isn't the truth.

so here she had to sit, fourth months of hooking-up and suppressed feeling later, while you danced all over some thin, auburn-haired girl. you both looked sweaty, and when the girls hands found your hips to shift you so you were facing her? abby almost lunged at the pair of you.

someone could bump into you two and your lips would meet, abby could feel the liquor she had been drinking start to swirl in her stomach. taking a large swallow and stepping forward, she didn't even notice her hands coming between you and the girl until she was the one facing you.

she eyed you and panted angrily, and if you didn't know your abby you maybe would have been scared. the girl you had been dancing with grabbed and tried to push abby away and you couldn't stop her before abby had pushed the girl to the ground.

abby raised her fist to throw a punch and she almost did.. but your hand reached to wrap around her bicep and she turned to face you, when your eyes met hers all she could do was scoop you up and out of the commotion. even if she had been at fault once again.

she hurried the two of you back to her place, and she swore she could feel the anger radiating off of you. when the two of you arrived, abby started pacing and trying to think of what she could say.. she didn't have long to think however before your lips were on hers.

abby kissed you back with fervor, she was scared it would be the last one. she couldn’t understand why you were kissing her. you pulled away from the kiss in attempts at talking with her but you noticed two long, bloody streaks on her arm. the brunette must have scratched her amidst the chaos.

you gasped and abby looked down, noticing the injury herself. “shit.” she said and turned away from you, almost walking away to handle it herself before you stop her. “abby. don’t play tough now and just let me help you..?” she turned back to you and followed you into the kitchen.

you made her sit at the dining room table while you fetched the first aid kit, returning with sympathy in your eyes.

as you clean her up, you offer her an explanation. “i shouldn’t have been so touchy with her ab, m’sorry you got hurt.” you finish dressing her wounds and she looks at you. it’s almost as if she's begging, “can we not do this anymore? please?”

you try to question her but you just simply can’t before she’s the one kissing you this time. tangling her hands in your hair and leaning into you. you can’t recall a time she’s ever kissed you like this, her hands fall from your hair to slide down into the back pockets of your denim skirt and she rolls her hips into yours. she’s impossibly close and she doesn’t make any effort to distance herself.

your hands go from loosely hanging around her neck to tapping, then banging on her chest as you try to get her off. she pulls away only to grumble out “i want you-” then you interject and stumble back slightly, hands never leaving her chest. “you have me, abs…” and then she’s moving closer, she finishes her thought and closes the distance between you two. “-back. i want you back.” then she's just as close as before and her lips are all over you again.

but it's so much more than a kiss this time, its teeth-clashing, lip biting, hands everywhere as she stumbles you both towards her bedroom. you feel as though this is getting far too good for you to interject anymore, so you just lazily follow abby until the back of your knees hit her mattress and you fall back onto it. abby immediately follows suit and climbs on top of you, rolling her hips into yours once again and this time you can feel that she's wearing her harness and strap. something she rarely does in public, it now becomes obvious that abby had some previous plans in mind for you before things took an unexpected turn. you gasp against her lips and your hands travel down to squeeze her through her sweats. she chuckles and removes your hands, then stands up and backs away from you.

abby snaps at you and her eyes gaze down at the floor and then back up into yours, she lets out a low growl. salivating as you drop to your knees in front of her, and then bury your face into her crotch. kissing her clothed strap. you look up at her and push some drool past your lips to fall to your tits, sticking your tongue out as it dribbles down.

abby sucks a sharp breath in and pulls her sweats and boxers down in one swift motion, letting her strap come out to bob up into your face. it’s crystal clear and painfully large, the same one she’s always used on you. roughly eight inches with a thick vein running the underside, the tip is prominent and bulbous. abby loved watching you pull off of her with a pop when she let you gag all over her.

your tongue instinctively swipes out to lick a long stripe up her cock but she doesn't let you get too far, because she’s pulling you up by your hair in no time. getting you to your feet, abby tugs at your tank top to snag and lift it off your body and she almost cums all over her harness right then and there at the sight of your tits. she pushes you back to the bed once again where you lay as she shimmies out of her bottoms and saunters over to you, eyeing you like prey.

she gets to you and tries, she really does give an honest try and nicely pulling your skirt down.. but to no avail, you’re far too squirmy and abby thinks out loud when she says “fuck it, i’m not being soft tonight.” before ripping your little skirt in two. you gasp at the sudden feeling of exposure and it's here when she can now see that you must’ve opted out of panties tonight. abby quite literally froths at the mouth when she sees your bare core, spread and ready for her.

“s’better than a goddamned playboy..” she sighs and her fingers find your little swollen clit with a quickness. your mouth falls open in a lost moan and abby does the same thing, at the same time. she’s got this false aura of sympathy about her, shes fucking mocking you. you’re far too gone by now to even care, you honestly expect it out of her.

her middle and ring finger move down from your clit and into a “V” shape, separating your lips and then she pushes the same two fingers inside your weepy little hole. going knuckle deep and then pulling them out halfway, twisting them ever so slightly to the right, and then doing it all over again. she continues on like this for a moment before she gives you two steady pumps in and out, then pushes knuckle deep in you once again. she holds her fingers there and her lips come to yours again, barely ghosting your mouth, abby says in a hushed whisper “tell me you’re mine.”

you look at her the best you can, and bite your lip. “i, i’m yours..” you whisper. that makes her give you a little peck, with her fingers still buried inside you, not having moved a single centimeter, she raises her voice a little, “say it again, louder.”

you squeak and try to ration with her. “abby, please, mo-” she kisses you again as if to shut you up and repeats herself. “i said louder, little girl.”

you gulp and at least think that you raise your pitch when you say “yours! im you-” but apparently you must not have because there she is again, almost yelling, cutting you off to say “louder.” once again. so you practically scream this time when you give her a whiny “yooours, im so yours abby.” panting once you finish, abby slowly curls her fingers and you can feel the tears about to roll over.

“louder.” you hear from somewhere in the room, and so you do, you fucking need this. 100% screaming this time, “fuck! yours! i am yours abs!! you and only you get to have me like this, hnnng, abby puh-lease!” abby pulls her fingers out and shoves them in your mouth to quiet your whines. laughing when you choke around her thick digits, you cough as she pulls them out and wipes them off on your cheek. like you’re her little towel.

abby then lets her fingers drop back down to circle your clit, kissing you hard again and trying her best to not have it turn into a makeout. so she pulls away just for a half of a second and looks down while she catches her breath, she almost forgot her harness had been patiently hanging from her hips. so while abby's fingers are still toying with your clit, she presses her nose into your neck, takes a deep inhale and says “need to fuck you, right now little girl.”

there it was again, the nickname abby had affectionately titled you with when you two had first met. “little girrrl..” you hear and you’re pulled from your thoughts when you feel her begin to press into you, she quite literally impales you on her strap. giving you slow, deep strokes as she works herself all the way in. “snug little thing, huh?” she mutters as she bottoms out, but you can’t be bothered to react or respond. you are all-encompassed by the pleasure that was swallowing you whole.

you gulp because, holy shit, she’s just started to fuck you and you’re already teetering on that edge. this has never happened to you before, so you muster all the courage you have, and in hopes that she’ll maybe be nice.. you let a little “m’gonna cum already.” and of course she hears. however, whatever god you may have been praying to in that moment must’ve heard whatever prayer you said in your head because all abby does is bring your legs up and together, then pushes you into a mating press. groaning a low “oh, no you’re not…” out with her movements.

she keeps fucking you, harder actually, your ankles are up by your ears and she keeps you there. grinding her strap into you, chasing after her own release. you raise your hands to claw and squeeze at her hips, trying to stop her.

“no, really ab- huuuhhh..” you garble out while her pace never once falters, “abby fuck…” you hiss and this knot ties and unties in the lowest pits of your belly unlike ever before. its feels like your going to pee and your legs spasm like you’re seizing. “really, what?” she snarls, and then snickers at you, “what is it, little girl?” you wince and she spits down onto your face, letting the glob of saliva roll off your nose a little before bringing one of her hands to your face to rub her spit all around it. you’re sure it's quite the sight to behold.

there you lay, sweaty and now covered in abby’s spit. limbs weak and legs falling asleep under abby’s grip, you try only once more to warn her of what's to come before it’s just happening. “abby please, please abs.. i’m cum- gonna, i’m going to- hhaaaa…” then your orgasm is jumping out of you like a little fountain. completely soaking the lower half of abby’s top, a bit of your stomach and the sheets beneath you two. abby gasps as she watches it all happen, her gasp turns into a full blown laugh and as she fucks you even harder she says, “this pussy’s too fuckin’ good to me.”

shaking her head at you, you ride out your high as best as you can before you begin to fade out of consciousness, you look up at abby with hearts in your vision and manage to get a “so pretty abby..” said before you're completely out.

when you come to, abby’s lying next to you while she catches her breath. harness still wrapped around her hips, she looks over at you and winks. “remember what you said about being mine, little girl. you don’t just let me fuck you like that and expect me to keep it casual anymore, do ya’?”

hope everyone likes this!! still working on that surprise i've been droppin' hints about, maybe i'll start talking about it more, idk. all i know is i'm going to a paramore concert this sat. and i've been working on this for DAYSSS and i couldn't sleep tonight if i didn't get this the fuck done!!!! so! yaaay! snaps for novaaa!

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faeriekit · 7 months

Text

Health and Hybrids (XIX)👽👻💚

[I can't remember the original prompt posters for the life of me but here's a mashup between a cryptid!Danny, presumed-alien!Danny, dp x dc, and the prompt made the one body horror meat grinder fic.]

PART ONE is here PART TWO is here PART THREE is here PART FOUR is here and PART FIVE is here PART SIX is here and PART SEVEN is here PART EIGHT is here PART NINE is here PART TEN is here PART ELEVEN is here PART TWELVE is here PART THIRTEEN is here PART FOURTEEN is here PART FIFTEEN is here PART SIXTEEN is here PART SEVENTEEN is here PART EIGHTEEN is here...nineteen...oy vey.

💚 Ao3 Is here for all parts (now featuring mediocre mouseover translations, only available on a computer)

Where we last left off... THE BART RETURNS! The earth rejoices! 🥳🎉 Physical therapy can be fun, even if it usually isn't!

Trigger warnings for this story: body horror | gore | post-dissection fic | dehumanization (probably) | my nonexistent attempts at following DC canon. On with the show.

💚👻👽👻💚

Danny learns a few more words with practice.

Foda is simple. If Danny is hungry, he can ask for foda. It sounds exactly like food, and when he asks, they feed him.

…Or they up his IV. Which. Danny’s tongue might still feel sore and nasty, but the doctors and nurses and millions of minders don’t seem that mad when he sticks his tongue out at them. Sometimes they even laugh.

They don’t even sound all that mean.

It takes Danny a good chunk of waking time for him to realize that he…probably is hooked up to something he doesn’t want to think about, since all the efforts of lifting and moving him haven’t resulted in a single bathroom trip since he woke up here.

Firstly: horrible.

Secondly: his legs are super, absolutely, positively immobilized, and if someone doesn’t give him enough medication quickly enough after it wears off, Danny is very aware that something is deeply wrong with them.

So. Uh. That’s…gross.

He learns bealo just as quickly. He isn’t sure what bealo means, per se, but when he says it, they up his medication until Danny can pretend he doesn’t have any legs again.

God niht is goodnight, unless Danny is feeling snippy, and then it’s just niht.

…The one lady who minds him always says the whole thing, though. Even when Danny’s mean. Like the one time he threw his rocket at someone.

Or the time he started ignoring everyone when they tried to touch him.

…Or the one time he tried to freeze his IV bag, and put everyone on alert because if he’d been human, that would have seriously hurt him.

“Sorry,” Danny’d whispered, even if it wouldn’t mean anything to her.

She’d patted his hand and meant it. Danny’d had to dry his eyes with his wrist. “Eall es wel.”

Anyway.

Danny hates being in the freaking bed every hour of every day. So when his “sitting up” exercises turn into “hey, let’s try the wheelchair” practice, Danny gets so excited-slash-nervous that he kind of feels like he’s going to throw up all the liquids he’s been injected with.

None of the regular people try to lift him. Instead the lady does it herself, scooping Danny up in very strong arms, the golden cuffs on her wrists weirdly warm on Danny’s skin. When Danny’s settled, his legs sticking out real weird and his back kind of sore, he’s…out of bed.

He’s. He’s not in bed anymore.

And. Sure. It’s temporary, but it’s not the bed. Danny can wriggle, and he can sort of palm the wheels underneath him with the heels of his shaky hands, and he can see so much more of himself than he has in ages and ages.

For one. Both of his legs are in casts. That’s. Not good. He can’t feel it right now, but the sight of fully encased legs…

Well. If he can transform that won’t be a problem. If. If he has to escape. But it is…it’s super scary. He mostly remembers being captured, but the…the other people had been focusing more on his thoracic cavity and his face and head.

…So why are his legs so bad? Did something else happen?

(It did, didn’t it?)

(…Didn’t it??)

His hands shake, but there’s something to all that grip training, or else Danny wouldn’t be able to paw at his neckline to look down his own shirt. Or, well, his cloth nightie, anyway.

It’s good that he looks, since, well…his chest is glowing a solid green.

Whatever should probably be scar tissue. Uh. It…isn’t. There’re gouges down his chest and a crater where his heart should be that probably should be healing over, considering, you know, he’s not freaking dead at this exact second (mostly??), but. Instead of, like, healed flesh, or, say, his insides, there’s a transparent green…jelly… holding him together.

He can see how the green bounces with his heart beat.

...Danny drops the neckline of his gown. His breath comes in choking bursts, eyes pressed into his eye sockets—he feels sick.

He is sick. He has been sick.

The humans are keeping him here because he’s a freak of nature and he’s broken from head to toe and the Guys in White carved his flesh out of his body and opened him up like a can of cranberry sauce.

He presses his hands to his chest, to his stomach, just trying to breathe for long enough that he doesn’t throw up his oatmeal and occasional juice and IV nutrition onto the pristine floor of his sickroom. The people around him all make sympathetic noises that don’t help because he doesn’t know what they mean.

And then he feels something weird.

Not all the sensation in his fingers are back. It’s easier for him to feel impediments than it is to feel textures—something that blocks him from moving, rather than anything sensory-specific. He can usually tell when he touches fabric, because when he moves too far, it pulls tight around his hand. He can tell when he’s on something solid when his hand fails to go through it.

There is something solid sticking out of him.

Danny’s heartbeat quickens. It’s not. It’s. There’s something in him.

And it’s not—it’s so solid. When Danny brushes his hands against it, he can feel his skin and his flesh move with it, trying not to dislodge the thing embedded in him. It pulls at his skin. He doesn’t know what it is.

His fingers tremble as he tries to brush over the object through his gown, trying to figure out its shape from faulty touch alone. It’s like waking up to find himself jammed with needles all over again.

People are talking around them. Danny doesn’t try to listen in. He’s scared. He’s so scared. Something’s happened to him, and he didn’t even notice.

Some of it is—hard. There’s a crinkling sound when he moves. Danny manages to pull his gown neckline back again to catch something of a glimpse, and all he sees is plastic.

He doesn’t know what it is.

He doesn’t know who to ask. He can’t understand anyone and he doesn’t know if he trusts them.

They put something in him. There’s something embedded in him.

He thinks he’s going to cry.

Something touches his arm—Danny flinches. His core tightens with stress as he puts a metaphorical hand on the button, ready to run and hide at any notice.

It’s the lady. He knows her.

No, he doesn’t. He doesn’t know her at all. He can’t talk to her in any way that matters. She��s not a doctor. He doesn’t know why she’s here, or why she’s keeping him here.

She’s nice. She fed him. But is that all it takes to trick him? To make him compliant? Pliable?

She stops touching him when he gets scared, her eyes worried. She kneels—closer than Danny would like, probably, but she keeps her hands to herself. Danny’s heart races faster, out of order, starting and stopping and starting again like a bad engine.

“Eow eart wel?” she asks from his left arm rest, a common question, so softly. Danny doesn’t know what it means. “Eall es wel. Ænlic eow, ænlic me. Bruce bræð wið me?”

She takes a big, deep, breath. Her hand rises slightly over her chest, following an exaggerated movement. Don’t panic. Breathe. Breathe like me. One, two, three.

Danny’s breaths are more choked. More panicked.

But when she breathes, he breathes with her—even with every stutter in between.

“Hwæt es woh[O3] ?” the lady asks, so gently it’s almost a whisper. Her pointer finger hovers over his body, but doesn’t touch—and eventually, Danny figures out she probably wants to know where he’s hurting.

But he’s not hurting. He’s scared. There’s something inside him, and he isn’t sure what it is. He presses the heel of his hand to the object. He feels something rigid refuse to bend inside his flesh.

There’s something of recognition in the woman’s face. “Inne cwic tima,” she says, more certain of answers outside the room, and darts away,

Danny wants to bounce his bound leg. He feels awful when anyone is in the room with him, considering how little of them he knows, but, somehow, it’s so much worse when he’s actually alone.

When she comes back, there’s a second person who walks through the double doors with her, in blue scrubs with ducks on them. They wave to Danny.

Danny…blinks. He feels numb. It’s kind of a problem.

They take it in stride, though; in their hands is a blank board and a chunky marker. The cap comes off, the new person scribbles for a minute or so, and then turns the board around so that Danny can see.

It’s a…person. A rudimentary outline person, sure, with some visible bones and organs to fill in the person-shaped outline. Danny can recognize most of them from anatomy class, although those memories are more…personal, now. A little more painful.

The person taps on the board. The person points to Danny.

Danny frowns.

The person turns the board back around and makes some Pew, Pew, Pew! sounds with their mouth, occasionally opening and closing their hand over the board to match the noise. There’s some more scribbling. When the board turns back around, there’s a violent smudge of marker on top of the drawn person’s drawn intestines.

The person takes their covered pinky finger and erases a little neat circle of marker in the intestines, mostly favoring one side. They draw a little arrow from the hole to the general outside-of-the-person blank area. Then another circle, with a thicker circle inside.

Danny recognizes the object jutting out of him. Oh. This is how he got it.

The person—probably a doctor, Danny guesses, or the surgeon who did this to him—do these people even need credentials, actually?—hands the board over to the lady. They hold out ten outstretched fingers, marker under their arm, and make a show of counting every one of the outstretched fingers with the opposite hand. Then they take the board back.

And then, when they write on the board, Danny can actually understand what they say.

Or, well, it’s numbers! The numbers are the same as his—the line and a circle is clearly meant to be a ten, and the little x is a multiplication symbol— they draw a 10, as clearly and a brightly as it could be against a stark white board, and add a little x 7, probably to indicate a week; the result is ten suns times seven, or seventy suns.

Danny feels his heart bounce in his chest. Danny would bet a whole lot of money that the number is meant to be seventy days. There is an end point. It’s not that Danny is free to be subjected to random anatomical whims—there’s a goal here. This was purposeful.

The little circle-within a circle gets erased. The hole is scribbled through as if it was never there, and the person makes a weaving gesture with the marker that Danny is certain is meant to be sewing.

Tears prick at his eyes. The lady gets close by him again, but Danny lets her. His hands aren’t good enough for wiping tears the way he wants to, yet. Help and company are good.

She gives him a tissue from Danny's bedside table. He takes it with a whisper of a grip.

“Seventy?” Danny rasps, tearful. Hopeful. Terrified of hope. He practically jams the tissue into his eye sockets.

The lady’s eyes go wide. “Seventy,” she repeats, marveling.

It’s enough. Nothing is perfect, but it’s enough. And if Danny's allowed to spend so long in front of the space window that he falls asleep in his wheelchair, well. It's not like he was in charge of where they went.

#*hip checks through the door* hey losers! Guess who uses Arabic numbers!! Two earths!!#also if ANYONE is shitty about stoma bags or ostomy bags on this fic or in this chat I'm going to fight you. Lots of people have them.#they're usually a temporary procedure and even if they're not they're pretty normal and a lot of people have them. I knew at least one #like haha this is a body horror fic but ostomy bags are a REAL THING that people HAVE as part of their medical journey DO NOT be rude!!#So what we know of his injuries now: messed up legs. Messed up guts. Messed up chest. Is there more...? Who can say. 👀#health and hybrids #dp x dc #dcu crossover #tw gore #tw medical #tw body horror #dpxdc #dcxdp #danny phantom #incarceration to elopement to healthcare pipeline #His healing is speeding up and his language is getting better! When can we get a Diana POV?? <- me to me

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