#this is kinda rambly anyway without that but at least that rambling is part of it by design since ro is dealing with his new senses
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Remrom Trick or Treat!!
Hello, anon! I’m so glad to have a trick or treater, so I spun the wheel I’m using and… Treat it is! And for you I have a fic, filled with pining, supernatural creatures, found out secrets, and a happy ending! Pairing: Remrom/ Roman Sanders/Remus Sanders Wordcount: 2,848 A/N: This was supposed to be short. O-o What happened??? I think I just really lovedddd writing Fae Roman and doing world building and so… this happened. I hope you guys like this too, since I had way too much fun with it ahah Tws: Possessiveness, Codependency, Worry about being Abandoned or Hated, Implied and or Referenced Supernatural Bigotry and Hatred
Hidden Underneath
Summary: Roman gets turned into a fae, and struggles with the way this has changed him while trying to keep it from his brother who he is in love with and who makes his fae instincts go feral.
“Okay,” Roman whispers to himself, staring at the mirror and taking a deep breath, “I’ve got this. Everything will be fine. Remus has always been fine with the strange and absurd, and I’m his brother, it is not as if he will think me some kind of monster.”
Roman’s reflection shimmers as if covered in water or as if the mirror is mesmerized, something otherworldly peeking out from behind his eyes as he runs a hand over his skin and notices how any blemishes or scars or roughness that were there before have simply vanished, leaving him soft and kind of warm, as if he’s never even set foot in danger or as if he effortlessly glided through life without so much as a scratch. He remembers enough ridiculous dares to counter that though, and it just makes him panic even more, wondering how he’s going to explain this to anyone. And—
Oh Hera, how is he even supposed to ever look away from the mirror when he looks like this?
Truly, staring at himself is almost hypnotic now. His skin shines and his eyes seem to glow a stunning red. And he can almost hear music rising in his head. If he just presses his hand against the mirror, it would go through, he knows, the other fae would be there, and they could dance for years, they could shimmer and shine and play so many tricks on the humans nearby, he could be everything for millennium—
“Ro! I know you’re vain, but you’ve been ‘getting ready’ for like two hours, and if you don’t hurry, I’m throwing a molotov cocktail at the church!”
Roman jolts, curses falling from his lips as he stumbles backwards— he only barely registers that they aren’t English curses as he turns to the door and glares at it. He quickly turns his words to English again to yell back, “I’m almost done! Remus, you promised no more fires this year! Don’t dishonor yourself, keep to your word and wait a minute!”
He takes another glimpse of himself in the mirror, and swallows as the call of the otherworld swells into something almost too much to resist— a Siren song that promises everlasting desires and excitement abounds, anything and everything and nothing and he wants it, he wants— But he rips himself away, dropping his eyes to the ground and swinging the door open.
Remus is standing outside, hand already curled around a bottle— though, Roman does note with relief, it is not a molotov— as he looks Roman up and down and his lips twist into a grin, “Looking good, Ro! Guess all that time wasn’t a total waste.”
A glamor covers all his less human extremities and aura, and though it itches, Roman leaves it on, only letting some of the more just uncanny valley vibes be felt, just enough that he feels a bit off.
That sure is one way to explain this transformation, and all of the ways that it has affected him.
Roman sighs, and cocks his hip out, letting his hand sit there as he looks pointedly at the bottle, “We weren’t supposed to be drinking tonight.”
Remus doesn’t know that Roman made that rule because he thinks it’ll be hard to explain his new found ability to drink five entire glasses of hard whiskey without as much as becoming tipsy or gaining one wobbly leg. But Roman has really been hoping he wouldn’t question it, since Roman has never been much of a drinker anyway— he was always quite the lightweight— He should have known that was a foolish hope.
“C’mon, Ro,” Remus whines, throwing an arm around Roman’s shoulder, “Don’t be such a stick in the mud! It’s Halloween, don’t we deserve to let loose? It’s basically the supernatural’s holiday! Their fucking— their spooky type of fucking Christmas!”
Roman tenses, but he doesn’t push him off, if anything he finds himself leaning into it, the scent of ocean and fire engulfing him at the same time that feelings of amusement excitement and something almost warm hot bubbling need want need slam into him, sliding under his skin and making him shiver.
He tries to ignore it, and to ignore the way that the touch feels different in a way that Roman cannot quite classify, in a way that’s hard to explain, in a way that’s inexplicably more.
Roman shakes himself and lets out a sigh, though it feels forced, “Even if that was true, that means nothing for you. You are not supernatural, Remus. And we still have school tomorrow. You will regret it when you are confused— yet again— about how you ended up face first in the forest with a pack of werewolves, and haven’t finished your homework.”
“Now I know you’re full of it,” Remus grins, “I don’t regret anything about that. Those guys— and the Enby one, oh fuck that one fucked fun— were my best lays of this decade, Ro-Bro!”
Roman swallows down the flash bang of anger that bursts across his skin, having to yank Remus closer— he starts walking to make up for it— to stop Remus from noticing the way his eyes flare, his teeth baring themselves as if to bite him into shutting up about them. The pull also has the added benefit of getting Remus closer to him— so everyone knows they’re together, he thinks sharply— though he didn’t do it with that in mind, and it’s ridiculous really. Roman has never been the jealous type; especially not with Remus. He didn’t have a need to be; ever.
But oh he feels it now, and he’s sure he’s projecting it as strong as the smell of Remus’ faux cologne.
If anyone nearby has a sense for supernatural elements then they definitely felt that sharp spike, and will probably still be able to sense the angry type of biting look away stay away mine mine mine that he can feel surrounding them as they make their way outside, and for once since the disaster that started this, Roman is glad that Remus hadn’t been involved; he isn’t sure how he would explain this strong urge to him without outing himself as having feelings that he knows he should not. Though he may have been drumming up the courage for that talk before, now… Now Roman is not quite so sure that is a good idea.
“Yes, they may have been good,” The growl in his throat is hard to talk around, and he suddenly has quite the admiration for other supernaturals who he knows from experience have learned to work around these limitations and use them to their advantage. “But it was not a good situation, do not kid yourself. One of their claws slashed through your sternum like tissue. I do not want to spend another after Halloween morning in the hospital, or urgent care.” It had been excruciating, terrifying, and of course the first thing that Remus had said when he’d woken up, cotton mouthed and stitched up:
“So, who cleaned me out? Cause I know there was a lot of cum, and I don’t feel it anymore, kinda a shame—” Roman’s pillow hit his face before he could say more and Remus laughed, coughing as doctors and nurses rushed in and glared at Roman.
He’d dropped the pillow, but he had never apologized. And Remus never asked him to either.
“Okay maybe it wasn’t a good night,” Remus finally concedes, his grin not faltering for a minute as he curls an arm around Roman’s waist and the night air hits their faces. The cold openness of the air tastes like salt and dry ice, and it’s strange, because he doesn’t exactly feel cold, nor does he start to shiver, or gain goosebumps, but he does feel the chill settle over his skin, forcing him to seek warmth in his brother's side, his skin a light warmth against Roman’s, his eyes a burning sensation against the chill. “But this is just some wine! No claws will be near my dick— or ribs— tonight!”
A vampire— one that looks kind of familiar but he finds that they’re too slippery to recognize, as if all of their colors and limbs are curling around themselves, their scent and look not distinguishable between the rest of the world, and that’s alarming, because he should know them, he should, the feeling of it is right on his tongue, but he cannot— does a double take at them, and Roman narrows his eyes— panic and protective instincts surging in his chest and into his aura, until the supernatural ducks away, clearly deciding that whatever they want or need simply isn’t worth the risk of setting him off.
His breathing shutters, something terrifyingly satisfied rising in his chest that he tries to ignore as Remus continues to ramble at his side, “— If anything I’ll have some flippers around me if you know what I mean,” He wiggles his brows and Roman blinks, brows furrowing as he looks over at his brother.
“No, actually. I do not know what you mean.”
“Ro,” Remus practically deadpans, “That mermaid I’ve been flirting with for months now? You know the one that was in my Interpersonal Comm Class, and did that whole speech at the supernatural rights rally talking about how the school needed to have better ways for them to get around in water if they wanted or had some type of emergency; the one that you specifically called: A Cutiepie? You know, that one?”
Patton Hart, Roman remembers, his stomach twisting, because— yes, he had called him that, and he doesn’t even disagree now— Patton is objectively the sweetest creature on campus, and has light brown hair that matches his eyes, and a face that’s soft and round like mermaids often have, and he has seemingly never so much as had an argument with anyone about anything— but something about Patton is now unsettling, as if something underneath his skin is rebelling against the idea of Patton being just sweet without something wrong going on. As if he’s now inherently more suspicious than he was just a few days before.
The idea of Remus anywhere near Patton makes Roman’s blood boil, and he has to violently push away the urge that tells him to curl around Remus tight enough that he cannot move, that he cannot leave and go see a mermaid—
“Are you sure that is a good idea?” Roman chokes out instead, reeling from the intrusive, strange, out of character, borderline hateful bigoted thought that has jumped from his mind. “Don’t mermaids have a curfew? I thought they were supposed to be back in the water by twilight? Are you saying,” Don’t, don’t, don’t. “You’ll be going back into the water with a dro— Patton?” He stares wide eyed at the ground at that slip, because that’s something he would never say, not in a normal situation, not even if the mermaid was cruel, he would never be so cruel back himself, but oh he really cannot stand the idea of Remus with a mermaid, with another supernatural that is not himself— And it feels like ants under his skin; denying himself the ability to tell Remus as such and make sure he stays with him, to make sure that everyone knows he’s taken—
And surely, he would be better company, he can do so much more than Patton, he knows Remus so much more than Patton
He can give Remus so much more; the Earth, the Land, the Sky. He can show him the highest peaks of the world and shield him from all harm. He can immortalize him in the most beautiful of ways. He—
Remus pokes Roman in the arm and he jolts, eyes swinging over to catch his brothers, who looks vaguely concerned, hand looping around his elbow as he leans against him and asks, “Bro, are you okay? You’ve been kinda… spacey tonight.” He pauses, “And yesterday too, actually.”
“I—” He doesn’t know how to say it. How does one tell their twin brother that they were tricked into becoming a fae? A fae that has so little control over their powers and instincts that even a slight look in their direction makes his aura scream to look away from them. A supernatural that many of the world despises. A creature that is known for being immoral and tricking people into sinning for amusement or pure boredom. How can he say such a thing, to admit to such a thing, to such power. Will Remus think he’s horrible for having it? Will Remus be scared of him? It makes his hands shake.
Roman is, it seems, at a crossroads. Though this one is more complex than two different paths to take, and all of them seem to run right to Hell.
Perhaps finding a crossroads demon would be easier than this. … Not that Roman believes in those— he knows the history of those myths and how stereotypical they are— but he now understands why so many, humans and supernaturals alike, have seeked them out.
Roman curls his fingers around his brother's arms, savoring the warmth as his resolve wavers and then hardens. This may be the last time they ever touch, after all, and so he wants to remember it, to imprint it in his skin, for as long and as well as he can.
“Something happened,” Roman starts with, both of the brothers stopping in the alley they had been cutting through to get to the house party, “A couple days ago. On Wednesday, I believe?” He shakes his head. “That doesn’t really matter, but yes, I was approached by a, by—” His face flushes in embarrassment, and he takes a breath to try again.
“A fae?” Remus offers, brow quirked in amusement.
“Yes, thank you,” Roman rolls his eyes, “I was approached by a fae and—”
Roman freezes, stomach plummeting as his heart jumps, rounding on Remus and staring as his brother laughs, leaning into him. The flush of his face burns up his skin and he hisses when he asks, “How long have you known? Why didn’t you say anything! I’ve been fretting about talking about this for days, struggling with what to do daily and how, and if I would lose you, and you—” His voice cracks and Remus finally stops laughing slowly, sighing as he pulls Roman closer and they tumble to the ground of the alley way. Roman’s nose scrunches but he shifts closer to Remus, and clutches at him hard, almost desperate in the way he has to stamp down the urge to bite and press them so close their ribs knock together, to get the reassurance he wants and bind him in some way he cannot escape—
“Sorry, Ro,” Remus mumbles, “I didn’t really know how to bring it up either. Thought you would eventually, and hey you did!” Roman sends him a withering glare and he giggles awkwardly. “Right, but uh, yeah, I kinda was gonna drop some hints tonight at the party, and see how you reacted but uh,” He glances around the alleyway, “I don’t… think I’m gonna be doing that anymore.”
“And you’re not gonna be going home with Patton either.” Roman growls, finding that now that that secret is out, his lips feel loser, the glamor shimmering away just enough that Remus is hit with the overwhelming aura that now surrounds Roman.
It also lets Roman smell him more thoroughly.
Excitement. Curiosity… Desire.
Remus curls his own hand around Roman’s neck and leans closer, his eyes shiny and dark at the same time. The smell of fire rises with the tide and Roman’s chest feels warm warm warm and his fingers itch to touch, and with the way Remus is looking at him, he knows he can.
He scrambles to press his fingers to his brother's stomach and feel the way it moves underneath. Mortal and alive and right here with him. Not gone, not angry, because Remus knew the whole time, and still invited him out; he hadn’t treated him any differently, he hadn’t had any problem with it whatsoever. Roman falls a little more in love, and kisses Remus right on the lips, swallowing the surprised but excited noise he makes and threading their fingers together beside them, as he breaks out into a giddy grin, canines flashing.
This is going to be confusing and frustrating, surely. Roman still needs to learn how to control his powers and himself, and he still needs to actually get information about how Remus knew about him, to know if anyone else is privy to that information. But for now, Roman is more than happy to just let himself indulge in Remus, and just be fae.
Roman does end up binding Remus to him for eternity— he doesn’t even need to ask.
Remus stays, and he comforts, and Roman… Roman presses kisses to his skin and thanks him for it for eternity, forever grateful to have someone so understanding and so very his.
@remrom-trickrtreat
#remrom#i really had to stop myself from rambling more and more when i started talking about the mermaid thing#because apparently my brain really likes the idea of the fae and mer people having this complex and hatred filled bond because of#their history and their culture#but that’s not supposed to be a big part of the story so i basically had to spray bottle my brain—#this is kinda rambly anyway without that but at least that rambling is part of it by design since ro is dealing with his new senses#he’s being pulled in all different directions (and he already had adhd so—)#proship safe#comship safe#authorchan06.writing#authorchan06.asks
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It's been a while since I last thought seriously about Dr*gon A*e (even prior to falling in love with BG3) and I think a big part of that is I'm not as big a fan of the setting and the worldbuilding as I used to be. Like to me it really does feel like BW looked at typical fantasy settings and went "hmm okay but what if there was Catholic-enforced racism and abelism". And like. Cool thought experiment bro. Do we really need three games made by primarily white guys about that.
#dragon age critical#marie speaks#idk if ableism is the best comparison for mage oppression but idk you get my larger point#I've heard that DA was supposedly BW's critical response to settings like Forgotten Realms after making the og BG games#and idk if that's true but I'd be willing to believe that bc that's what a lot of it's world building feels like#“oh u thought the elves where gonna be ethereal and respected? nah they're a haphazard blend of irl oppressed groups”#“oh u thought this fantasy world was gonna have a plethora of interesting and dynamic deities and gods? nah it's just fantasy Catholicism”#“oh u thought people who can use magic would have respected places in society? nah they're locked in jail for being Different”#like I feel like these ideas were kinda cool for one game. An expanded thought experiment#but idk if they were strong enough to sustain an entire franchise#without significantly expanding their pool of writers to get the perspectives of people they're attempting to represent at least#but that's a whole different issue#anyway DA has some legit cool concepts like the Grey Wardens that I will always love#and most of their early character work is still really strong#but for me every time that setting rears it's head problems arise#anyway if you're still a DA fan that's totally fine! I'm very happy for you!#don't let my salty ramblings spoil what resonates with you from these games#I'm just reflecting bc it used to be a huge part of my life especially through like all of highschool#and now it's just. not.
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growing up and watching my mom radicalize and realizing that my dad is less left than i thought he was
#DONT GET ME WRONG HES STILL WAAAY MORE LEFT THAN MOST DEMOCRATS#bro is president of his union <3#but while watching the short amount of the dnc that we did#he was the least put off#my mom was curious but also 'boycotting' it#bc of the democrats' intensely strong support of israel#but what i mean w my dad is that a lot of my yes sure somewhat naive questions he answers 'bc thats the way that it is'#which is... not actually the answer im looking for lmao#like this time i was wondering why exactly we as voters need to pledge our allegiance to a party in order to vote in the primaries#and also why political ideologies are SUCH strong parts of people's identities nowadays#bc they both kinda seem like bullshit to me?#i would like to vote in primaries without falling into the two-party system#and then the identity thing really just feels like another way to lump a whole lot of people together into a mindless blob#which fun fact is never good actually#its just interesting to me bc my dad is Really Loud with his opinions and more and more they just seem... kinda empty#like dont get me wrong he my mom and i agree on pretty much everything#but as soon as we get to like the massive systemic changes he gets lost#and i dont really know why#but anyway my mom called herself a socialist today lmao#so love that for her#rambles#winter stfu
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![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/c43d14580e6e89f24be036c117f21bde/885b3b22930a2897-b1/s540x810/2819b611c5a9167060f28aa216332d353f842fe2.jpg)
the way she looks at him here... goodness...
#ash rambles 💚#a heaven full of stars 💙❤️#the emotions..#but also#gah#IT SHOULD BE MEEEE#I WANT HER TO LOOK AT ASH LIKE THAT 😭😭😭😭#the way she's crying but her eyes are filled with nothing but love and admiration??#GAAAHHH IT SHOULD BE MEEEEE#she should be looking at her best friend of over a decade like that! the red to her blue! fire to her water! those ten years without her#were the most painful part of ash's life and i know she'd cry too seeinf a.qua again#i think a lot about how fucked up ash is mentally after the events of her game. her buddies t.erra and v.en? gone. her adopted father? gone#her best friend who she had fallen in love with? ash had to watch in horror as she fell into the darkness screaming and sobbing and begging#to just take her instead. you see ash punching at the ground a lot. the combination of all that + the fire spells she casts really did a#number on her hands and she keeps them wrapped up for over a decade since her scars are just another reminder of her not being good enough#man. what a character. i cooked.#anyways#my wife! i adore her so much! i spend so much time thinking about how I'm not good enough for her that i tend to forget that i love her#i love her with all my being and thats what matters#teehee i even have my plushie of her next to me rn!#man shes so perfect#just wanna wrap my arms around her waist and hold her close all night and tell her that i adore her#i should probably go to bed now lmao#another week of wondering if it's even worth it but hey! we persist! it's my birthday soon too!#... honestly I'm not excited (i feel kinda neutral) but come on! i try to see the silver lining in things! shitty week but at least I'll#have an excuse to eat cake!#... ive mentioned c.yberpunk p.hantom l.iberty so often around my sister in hopes she'll get it for me- i feel bad and honestly i dont even#need a gift but i cant deny that I've had this whole in my heart after i finished c.yberpunk sjshajdjw i need another fucking game to play#nothing is scratching that itch!!! and i tend to be picky about my games too#i mean if you have any recs for ps5 games feel free to lay them on me but like. still
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Ok so good news I have finished unlocking all the oni lore, bad news there wasn't as much left as I was hoping. But on the bright side, Jean and Nails got to do more stuff hell fucking yes
#rat rambles#oni posting#also the nails log is So fucking interesting Im obsessed with it#also rip olivia made the brain stuff hc but Im perfectly ok with this#oh we also got more nikola stuff in the same logs which is fascinating#mostly because it has continued to pile onto the weirdness of the 'evil' log#because evidently managing the time bow wasnt his job for most of his time at gravitas#or at least not a primary responsibility of his#as for nails I find them to be such a delightful character theyre another great example of oni's ability to give its characters such strong#characterizations without letting us know much about any of the cast on a personal level#in particular I love that nails is a part of the 'yeah they totally know' club while also being the closest thing we get to someone's#perspective on the project on a more personal level even if it's not super directly#nails is a person who was very optimistic and admiring of jackie who was all for less regulation until they weren't#they were perfectly fine with the deaths of duplicants for science but smth abt that data crossed a line to them#idk what sort of thing is so horrible that it made someone go from not minding the deaths of a being to going behind their company's back#in a desperate attempt to try to help them even if it ultimately doesnt add up to much#oh and they did at least one test of the memory transferal on a human. we dont know who it is all we're given is a subject number (901)#but well. I kinda feel like theres one option the game may be pointing us towards#theres only one character weve seen with an added number to their work id#anyways hiiiii olivia hows it going over there are you failing to free yourself from the being involved with duplicant stuff allegations#like I was getting real close to admitting that it is possible that she wasnt at all involved with the duplicant program but uh nvm lol#rly the one thing that made me start cracking on my belief that She Knows is thats he never directly talks abt duplicants by namr#she talks abt 'printed subjects' a whole lot but technically speaking that doesnt inherently mean shes talking abt duplicants too#but at the same time. the way she talks abt these printed subjects a lot of the time sure as hell doenst make it sound like critters#like hell the reason she initially quit was not wanting mind control to be implemented into printed subjects#and then theres the email where she requests that the microchips in the 'colonists' are given non survival data too#so like. she knows she totally does she just doesnt call them duplicants#which tbh makes sense given that by all means they basically are humans theyre literally meant to be exact clones#so maybe she never started calling them duplicants when the name was concieved for some reason or another#most likely because of how dehumanizing it is even if she probably doesnt mind other methods of dehumanization on them too much
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do you believe me now? | 2
in which fem!reader is feeling insecure about how inexperienced she is around spencer's friends and seeks his expertise to amend the problem
series masterlist
18+ (smut) warnings/tags: inexperienced reader, oral f receiving, (MUNCH!SPENCE RETURNS), fingering, (very) insecure reader, softdom!spencer, sub reader, nipple stuff, kinda sorta implied age gap, god i'm probably forgetting things pls lmk if i missed something important a/n: i've been laboring at this bad boy every day for so long i had to immediately post once it was completed lol. there will be a part three ... maybe i already started it ..... anyway i love u guys and i hope this is a satisfactory part two!! PLS lmk if you liked it!! hearing from u makes my day :')
When Spencer dropped you off at Penelope’s apartment for your first girl’s night—the hostess had promised you, JJ, and Emily lots of gossip sans 'icky men'—you had been ecstatic. You wouldn’t stop rambling to him about how excited you were.
When he picks you up two and a half hours later, he can hardly get a word out of you.
It’s not his fault, of course—well, not really, anyway. It’s just that all the girls had wanted to talk about was sex. A topic on which you held very little expertise and had essentially nothing to contribute. Out of the four, you were the only non-FBI agent, the youngest, and undoubtedly the least experienced. It was like high school all over again, except you actually desperately wanted to impress Spencer’s friends. All in all, you weaseled your way out of sharing without giving away that you were still very much a virgin. Sure, you could have said ‘we did hand stuff two weeks ago’, but you had a feeling these women wouldn’t consider that very impressive.
But you can’t easily relay that information to Spencer—even when he immediately picks up on your sullen mood. He asks you what’s wrong as you make your way down the echoey staircase, but you hold back, muttering something along the lines of we’ll talk about it later.
Later doesn’t come on the sidewalk outside. It doesn’t come in the car, or at any point during the twenty minute drive, but you feel it rapidly approaching as you climb the stairs to Spencer’s apartment. He unlocks the door and holds it open for you, doesn’t speak as you kick off your shoes and wander aimlessly into the living room.
“Did you eat?” He finally asks, hanging his keys on a hook by the door and glancing over to where you linger in the center of the room like a ghost.
“Not hungry.”
You both know that wasn’t the question, but he lets it go.
“Alright... well, I was thinking—“
“Why haven’t we had sex?”
The question flies from your mouth before you can stop it. It tastes like metal and you wish you could take it back as you stand there, cheeks hot and awaiting a reply. It seems you’ve thoroughly astonished Spencer as he gapes at you like a fish out of water for several silent moments, eventually opting to shove his hands in his pockets and shake his head at the wall as he processes the question.
“I… I don’t know. We just haven’t. Does that bother you?”
Suddenly your whole body feels intolerably warm. Your fingers twitch against your thighs. Of course it bothers you.
“Do you just not want to? You aren’t attracted to me like that?”
God, you despise how fragile your voice sounds—how much you obviously care, how insecure you clearly are. Spencer picks up on it, despite your most fervent wishing that he wouldn’t, and approaches, stopping a few feet away. You stare at the span of oriental design on the floor between your feet.
“That’s not at all what I said, angel. I wish you wouldn’t put words in my mouth.”
“Well, then… say something else,” you plead quietly, childishly, still unable to meet his eyes. Prove me wrong.
He sighs, which does not bode well for you. You wonder if you accidentally triggered the early demise of your relationship and christ do you wish you could rewind. When he steps closer, when his hands find your arms, you’re not sure where to look. But the low, sweet tone of his voice entices you to finally meet his gaze, charmed like a snake as his eyes dart between yours.
“You know that’s not how I feel.”
You shake your head earnestly, looking up at him with wide eyes as he slowly rubs your arms.
“No. No, I don’t know that.”
Spencer frowns, glancing at your lips as he speaks. It’s impossible to not do the same when he’s standing so close.
“But I’ve told you. I don’t understand how you couldn’t know how far from the truth that is.”
You think back to two weeks ago—the first and only time he’d ever done anything more than kiss you. A different kind of flush replaces the shameful one in your cheeks as you try to make your case and not get distracted by the memories of his hands all over you.
“So why won’t you prove it?”
It’d been intended to come out cool, but instead you sound a little desperate, a little out of breath as you realize you and Spencer somehow ended up so close to each other you can feel the warmth radiating from his body.
“Is that what you need from me? More proof?”
He speaks so lowly, his fingers press into the flesh of your arms portentously, and you think maybe you’ve poked the bear one too many times. But you won’t back down now—not when you think you might actually get what you want.
So you look up at him and nod, throat too dry to speak. His eyes are deceptively soft, but you don’t miss the big bad something lurking just beneath the surface of the placid hazel.
“And how do you think I should prove it?”
“I told you what I want,” you whisper, speaking above your pounding heart.
“Not tonight, honey. Choose something else.”
“Well—that’s not fair,” you stammer, “the whole point is for you to want to have sex with me.”
Spencer smiles a little, tucking hair behind your ear. “I do want that. I promise you I do. But there are other things I want us to do first.”
“Then I want to do that, too! I just—I don’t know what I’m doing, and you do, and I’m already out on a limb by asking for this much. I know this is what I want but I need you to take the lead here. I trust you, Spencer.” You top off the monologue with an imploring gaze—hoping it delivers even a fraction of the impact that his puppy-dog eyes always have on you.
He seems to study every square inch of your face as you wait in suspense for him to say something. At long last, his lips part—to no avail for several more seconds as he regards you.
When the words finally do come, they’re an immense relief of pressure.
“You’re going to promise me that you’ll communicate honestly. That means telling me if we need to slow down or stop, or if you don’t like something—”
“I promise,” you say, perhaps over-eagerly, offering him your extended little finger.
An incredulous smile narrows his eyes.
“Is this a pinky-promise?”
“It is.” You wiggle the finger in emphasis, and he shakes his head, smiling wider as you link pinkies.
“I left you with Garcia for far too long.”
You shush him, disentangling your hands to cup his jaw and press your lips to his. It’s sweet and smiley until it isn’t—until everything slows down like sticky molasses and his hand is ghosting over your cheek, your neck, the curve of your waist, finally substantiating itself on your hip—the other encouraging you to tilt your head back as he deepens the kiss and you feel yourself melting under the heat of his touch.
The pressure of his body against yours builds until you’re forced to take a step back, and then another, and another. Without question you allow yourself to be herded toward the bedroom, walked slowly backward as he keeps kissing you and blindly trusting he’ll make sure you don’t run in to anything. The bedroom door clicks shut behind him, and it is in all practicality a pointless gesture—but you find it incredibly comforting nonetheless.
It’s too warm beneath your sweater and his hands are cool as they slip under the hem, sliding against the curve of your hip. Spencer’s never seen you without a shirt, you realize, as he pulls away from the kiss by only centimeters.
“Off?” he mutters, thumbing at the knit fabric. And while you’re far from confident, you’ve certainly been making progress in this area. You help him tug it over your head without a word, noting a distinct and surprising lack of terror within yourself as you watch for his reaction to you. Hands glide slowly up your waist and you find yourself enchanted by the slight furrow of his brow, the parting of his lips. He traces down the lacy edge of your bra, skimming sensitive skin as he goes.
“Pretty,” he murmurs. “You’re… so pretty.”
It seems you’ve rendered him uncharacteristically prosaic. The reaction might be underwhelming if it were anyone else—but Spencer Reid is a man who probably knows every synonym for pretty in the English language. Looking at you, he can’t think of a single one. In an odd way, it’s the highest compliment he could pay you. Your cheeks heat and your stomach flips as he drags a knuckle up the center of the cup, and you can feel it through the layers of lace and fabric. He leans forward, ghosting his lips over yours and continuing to run his fingers over the sensitive spot. “Do you know how pretty you are?”
This is one argument you will not be winning—one he’ll keep bringing up at the most inopportune times until he gets his way.
“Spencer…”
“Don’t Spencer me. I’m asking you a question.”
The words don’t seem nearly as harsh as they really are when they’re delivered velvet-soft, with his lips and hands on you—when he’s so deftly popping the button on your jeans and dragging the zipper down with all the quickness of a slight-of-hand. It makes it hard to focus, even harder to speak.
“We have… we have differing views on this matter.”
Generous handfuls of your hips and ass are taken as he helps you tug down your jeans before you kick them off, now left just in your underwear.
“I thought I argued my point fairly well last time you were here. You didn’t learn anything from that?”
“Mm… maybe you just need to remind me.”
“Oh, I think I have to,” he agrees through a smile you can only hear. Gentle fingers skim up your back and tap the clasp of your bra. “How about this? Can we take this off?”
Any confidence from earlier crumbles and you loose a nervous hum—which is not the enthusiastic yes you’re sure Spencer will be seeking all evening. He pulls away, features etched with the beginnings of concern and a searching gaze. Asking would be unnecessary; the words simply come tumbling out of you.
“What if you don’t like how I look?”
Spencer doesn’t even blink.
“That’s not going to happen.”
How you wish you could have the same assuredness in yourself that he seems to.
“But what if… what if you’ve been with other girls who are more, like—I don’t know, just—better? Prettier?”
“Honey, you’re—” a sigh, a pause as he searches for the words—his eyes dart up and down your form, assessing, and when he looks back up at you, they’ve cleared and softened. He pulls you a little closer, rubbing circles into your back with his thumb. “I’m not thinking about anyone else right now. I’m not interested in anyone else right now. I already think you’re perfect, and I’m going to keep thinking that regardless of how you look. When I look at you, I’m not looking for things to critique. Do you understand me?”
As far as sentiments go, it’s a nice one. But the pressure of being seen still feels like an impossible burden. You whine, leaning your head against Spencer’s chest. He accepts your weight and runs his hand over your back as you look up at him.
“But what if I’m hideously deformed?”
His eyebrows raise.
“You’re not.”
“But what if I am?”
“Okay. It seems like you don’t feel ready yet, which is completely fine, we just won’t—”
“No!” you protest. “I am ready. I am. But… you have to promise to be nice to me no matter what. Or break up with me if you don’t like what you see so I don't have to wonder.”
“You’re ridiculous,” he says, kissing you, “and the only thing I’m willing to promise is that I’ll think you’re perfect. Me being nice will come as a natural byproduct of that which is very different than being nice by artifice. Take it or leave it.”
A moment of hesitance—but it’s short-lived. This is more important than your insecurities. Spencer is more important.
“Take it,” you mumble against his lips. His fingers trace up the smooth skin of your back, all the way to the fabric and metal hooks on your bra.
“Thank you.”
You wouldn’t have thought Spencer’s genius would manifest in being really good at undoing the clasp of a bra, but you can truly say you’re impressed by the ease with which he does it. It falls to the floor, leaving you completely shirtless for the first time in front of him.
“Well?” you murmur, arms crossed defensively underneath your chest, because you understand overtop would sort of ruin the whole thing. “What’s the verdict?”
“You,” Spencer manages after a moment—you literally watch him memorizing every square inch of your body— “are ridiculously beautiful.”
The way his voice gets quieter makes your stomach flip. It sounds genuine. Too genuine to be faked.
“So… no breakup?”
It seems that the more vulnerable you feel, the less likely you are to take a compliment. Spencer, who is always seeking patterns, probably recognizes this one, and doesn’t push you so hard this time. After a silent moment, he sighs and cradles your face in his hands.
“You’re gorgeous. I hate how incapable you are of seeing that. We’re going to talk about this.”
“Yeah, but not right now, right?” you murmur, standing up on your tiptoes to kiss him.
“Not right now,” he agrees.
His lips are so soft and gentle against your own it feels like love, it feels like being talked down from the ledge of your own insanity. Somehow the way he strokes your hip feels more nurturing than sexual. It’s like he has sex and chaste affection on tap, able to turn them on and off at will. You’re happy to drown in either. Ideally, both.
After a while, his hands begin roaming farther, become bolder in their excursions over your flesh. Up, down, over your waist and ribs. Clearly Spencer had been trying to ease you into it, but you still can’t hide your sharp inhalation when his thumbs graze the sensitive skin of your breasts. He pulls his lips from yours, hands splayed over your sides.
“Sit down.”
It’s much too gentle to be a command, but you frown.
“Without you?”
“I’m not going anywhere,” he chuckles, lightly squeezing your waist. “Just sit. Utilize patience.”
You sit on the edge of the bed with an atypical reticence—you’re just a little too nervous for a snippy comeback. Spencer picks up on this, features softening sympathetically as he undoes his tie with nimble fingers. It lands somewhere on the bed and he leans over you, resting his weight on his fists and offering you a quick kiss. His voice is soft and designed to soothe as he speaks, mere inches away from your face, and so quiet it could only be heard at this range.
“Are you nervous?” Cloth from the duvet pinches between your fingers. For a moment you don’t reply, dropping your head to watch when Spencer runs his hand over your thigh. “It’s okay if you’re feeling anxious, baby. We don’t have to do anything tonight.”
You expel a frustrated huff.
“I want to. Just because I’m nervous doesn’t mean I don’t want this. I can handle a little bit of anxiety.”
He hums, dropping to a crouch and inserting himself directly in your line of sight.
“I know you can. But you don’t always have to push yourself so hard.”
“I’m fine pushing myself a little. I pinky-promised I would tell you if I wanted to stop, remember?”
“Oh, how could I forget a pinky-promise?” he smiles.
How could you forget anything, you think, becoming flushed and silently insolent at his dulcet teasing.
“Please, do something.” It’s a whisper, brushing his lips as you lean down until you’re nose to nose. His hands are on the back of your legs.
“I’m working on it.”
“It doesn’t look like it.”
“You’re smart, angel. Tell me why I've got you naked on my bed and I’m kneeling in front of you. Where could I possibly be taking this?”
Oh, you have a pretty strong inkling—but you’re scared to voice it and be wrong. Instead of risking it you shake your head slowly, shyly. What you’re not expecting is for Spencer to duck his head down, slide his hands up the side of your thighs and press kisses to the delicate skin there. It feels good—better than you’d have thought.
“You don’t know?” he asks, looking up at you through burnished gold-rimmed pupils. “No guesses?”
“No guesses,” you agree breathlessly, hotter than you were when you had your clothes on and all the energy in your body condensed into one point between your legs. Spencer hums like he’s considering your answer, smoothing his thumbs over the soft skin of your thighs so gently it feels like burning.
“I don’t think you’re being entirely truthful. Lie back, sweetheart.”
You do as you’re told, scooting up on the mattress and falling back on your elbows. Spencer wastes no time in climbing over you, leaving you in much the same position as the last time you’d been in his bed. The sheets feel cool against your bare skin, but he is exceptionally warm and solid over you.
“I’m being honest.” Lie. “I don’t know what you’re going to do.”
Lips find the most sensitive spot of your neck, dancing over it torturously. The front of his shirt brushes your chest. Your thighs clamp together.
“I don't like being lied to. Just say it, baby. I know you know.”
“Spencer,” you whine, fists bunching the excess fabric around his waist. Warm breath condensates on the skin of your neck as he chuckles.
“You don’t like being teased, huh?”
“Please, Spence,” you whisper. You notice the pattern of his breathing pause momentarily before it all comes rushing out at once—and you catalogue that particular plea for later usage.
“I can’t say no when you ask me like that.”
You push your fingers into his soft hair.
“I know.”
It was a lucky guess.
He’s still for a moment, relishing the feeling of your hands in his hair, before darting up to kiss you.
“I’m going to use my mouth this time,” he murmurs against your lips. Though you knew that was what he intended, your heart stumbles in its perpetual march. “Is that okay?”
“What if I…”
You trail off. This is a very intimate situation which you’re not quite sure you have delicate enough language for. Or maybe you’re just stalling. Either way, Spencer is eternally patient with you.
“You need to stop worrying so much, pretty girl. I’d love to do this for you. But it’s your call.”
“Love is a pretty strong word.”
“Sometimes I think not strong enough.”
The way he’s looking down at you so tenderly, brushing hair from your face, makes you think maybe he’s not just talking about how much he would love to go down on you. Regardless, it fortifies your trust in him. Spencer is the kindest person you know. He’s so clearly an enthusiastic giver. Why not allow him to give you this?
“Okay,” you breathe. “You can—yeah.”
As usual, you’re impressively awkward, but he doesn’t seem to mind. In fact, you think he not-so-secretly delights in being the one to fluster instead of the other way around. Rarely has he mentioned his past romantic and sexual exploits, but gathering bits and pieces, you assume he was a fairly late bloomer. He probably knows what it’s like to be nervous and so deeply unsure of yourself.
“Do you remember what you promised me?” he whispers, pressing butterfly-light kisses to your jaw. Your eyes flutter shut as his lips traverse down your neck, teeth skimming over the delicate skin while your breath catches.
“Mhm.”
“You’re not gonna break that promise, are you?”
His voice, soft and muffled by your skin, is the most exhilarating and disorienting high. Your entire body buzzes with anticipation, satisfied only where his lips soothe and his body presses against yours. It takes a moment for you to remember to reply.
“No.”
Reward comes in the form of his thumb brushing over the peak of your breast at the same time as he murmurs, “good girl.”
Your stomach flips at the endearment—you squeak and arch into him slightly. Spencer’s hand slides down your ribs as he chuckles, lips pressed just above your collarbone.
“You’ve never called me that before,” you shudder as he continues kissing over your neck.
“It’s not appropriate in most conversational contexts. But I can tell you’ve always been good.”
“Really? How?”
Spencer pauses, pushing himself up to regard you with searching eyes. The places he’d kissed feel cold without him.
“I just can. You’re thinking too much, baby. I need your focus on me.”
“It is on you,” you huff.
You watch his expression shift minutely. He loves games. Of course he’d love playing with you. That knowledge is why you’re only partially surprised when his thumb catches on your nipple again.
“Is it? You’re only thinking about how it feels when I touch you here?”
A stammering nod.
He toys with the sensitive flesh only a second more, amusement lighting his eyes, before dragging his hand down, down, down until it’s between your legs. Fingers trail over your clothed core, skimming the most sensitive part of you while your breath hitches.
“Tell me how it feels when I touch you here.”
“Really good,” you admit, a heavy exhale escaping parted lips as he pins you with his gaze.
“Really good, right. I can make it feel even better. Do you want me to make it feel better?”
Your thighs drop fully open and he adds just a bit more pressure until you’re pushing against his hand in search of more friction.
“Yes please.”
“Then no more questions. I need you to trust me.”
Your answer is a breathy, dreamy sigh—you’d do anything, say anything for him.
“Okay.”
Spencer kisses you, absorbing your noises of protest as his hand ceases between your legs and settles on your hip. But you’re trusting him. No whiny complaining. No unnecessary questions.
Things go much quicker once you’re not interrupting him every twenty seconds to say something. His lips reattach to your neck, retracing their path (albeit quicker) until he’s below your collarbone. You watch in rapt fascination, twisted brows and parted lips as he peppers kisses down over your breast before dragging his tongue over your nipple. A jolted little moan spills out because you hadn’t been prepared to hold one in. Waves of hair fall over Spencer’s face, obscuring him from your vision, but you don’t think to push it away—your body is too busy processing the sensation to be much use on any other front. He darts his tongue over the peaked flesh, eliciting more little open-mouthed exhalations of pleasure from you. Earlier you hadn’t really thought it necessary for your bra to come off—you had no idea this could actually feel so good. A moment later he begins toying with the other nipple and you gasp as a bolt of heat goes straight to your core.
You curse, further words catching in your throat as he suddenly switches, mouthing at your other breast and letting the cold air chill the other until you have goosebumps. It feels a little like hypnosis—you’re unable to move or speak as his tongue laves over you. Soon he’s replacing his mouth with a thumb again, sucking a mark onto your tit just above your nipple. You whimper a little at the pleasant brutality of it, hoping as he releases that it won’t soon fade. Spencer swipes over the stinging skin and presses a tender kiss to it, almost like an apology—but you sincerely doubt he’s actually sorry.
Then he resumes his descent, leaving soft kisses down between your breasts, over your ribcage and stomach—when he reaches your hips, he doesn’t pull off your underwear all at once. Rather, he slides the fabric down centimeter by centimeter, kissing the revealed skin like it’s precious.
This time you don’t need to be told to lift your hips. He helps you slip the final piece of clothing down and off of your legs, flinging it somewhere blindly before getting comfortable between your thighs once more. Your heart pounds with arousal and anxiety as his arms wrap around your thighs and his hands rub up and down the tops of them slowly.
“God, you’re fucking beautiful,” he mumbles, loosening his hold on one leg to thumb at your folds. They glisten in the dim light of his bedroom as he gently reveals your clit. A soft whine escapes you when he nudges at the aching bud, slipping over it a few times and alleviating a bit of the pressure that’s been building. “Shh, baby. I know. I’m gonna take care of it. You’re being so good for me.”
Fuck. The way he talks to you makes your brain turn to mush—you’re utterly incapable of forming an intelligent thought. Spencer has rendered you a complete idiot, and you’re not upset about it in the slightest.
He presses more gentle kisses to the creases between your thighs, just above your clit—everywhere except for where you need him most. Everything aches for him in the best way and at least you’re too turned on to be very insecure anymore. All you want is relief. But you’re trusting him.
Thankfully, he delivers.
The tip of his tongue grazes so lightly over your clit that if you weren’t this worked up you may not have felt it at all. In your current state, however, the stimulation echoes through every atom of your being. Every muscle is tense, frozen in place—you can’t even breathe for a second. He does it again, a little flatter, with a little more pressure, and you whimper. It’s a delicate thing, almost pained and definitely overwhelmed as he gently begins working his tongue against you. Your head cranes up to watch, your jaw drops. Approximations of curse words try to form, but come out only as, “f-fu—oh,” so whiny and soft it doesn’t even sound like you. He hums sympathetically, but you suspect it morphs into a chuckle as you continue to gasp and mewl.
There are times where you can hold back sounds of pleasure. When you’re by yourself, it’s typically not a problem. Two weeks ago when Spencer was knuckle deep in you for the first time, it had certainly been a challenge, and you’d pretty much given up. But this—this is something else entirely. It feels like religion. It feels like compulsion. Even if you had the slightest modicum of control over yourself, which you currently don’t, you wouldn’t want to keep quiet. You want him to know what he’s doing to you.
So you let every cry, every whine and whimper drag from your lungs, unbidden and unshaped. You’re new at this, after all—every broad lick feels so good that you have no fucking idea what do to with your hands or how to stop rolling your hips or how to censor your sounds.
“Spencer,” you keen in one of the moments you remember to breathe. He moans against you, taking you into his mouth and sucking lightly. Your hips buck. “Oh, my—fuck!”
The hand that’s still around your thigh rubs soothing lines up and down. The one that’s spreading you open pulls your folds apart a little bit further, granting him more access to your clit. He flicks his tongue and you almost come then and there, vision going gray for a split second.
“Wait, wait, Spence—“ you squeak, writhing and trying not to squeeze your thighs together for fear of hurting him. He pulls back and looks up at you, lips shining with your slick and eyes glazed with lust. Fuckfuckfuck he looks so fucking good. “Please, just… slow down, or I’m gonna… or it’s gonna be over.”
The corner of his mouth twitches as he rubs circles into your inner thigh.
“It’s over when you say it’s over. You don’t have a refractory period. We don’t have to stop at one.”
“Oh—you don’t—you don’t have to do that,” you stammer.
“I know I don’t have to. But if you want me to, I want to. You taste so good, angel girl.”
Well, shit.
He looks absurdly sexy between your legs like this. You have no idea how you got so lucky, but you don’t plan on taking it for granted. Your fingers tangle in his hair.
“I don’t know if I can do more than one,” you admit shyly, slightly embarrassed by how little you know about yourself and in general compared to Spencer. Hazel eyes sparkle in the warm light.
“How about we start with one and see how it feels?”
Your voice is breathy when you respond, “okay,” already impatient for him to get back to it. Spencer seems just as eager, immediately kissing between your legs with a passion that makes your lips jealous.
The flat of his tongue presses circles against you and your hips buck, already ramping up to that point you’d been at before calling a time-out. Slowly his fingers find their way to your entrance and he teases you with them, dipping in to the first knuckle before withdrawing again. If you could form words, you’d beg him to just do it already, but all you can manage is an affronted whine as you tilt your hips down, hoping he catches the meaning.
Of course he does—pushing two fingers inside you at once. The intrusive stretch adds a sharp edge to the pleasure, makes it more interesting, as your brain short-circuits and you choke out a moan. It only takes a few slow pumps of his fingers in tandem with the pressure of his tongue until your hips are writhing and you’re and mewling desperately, more overwhelmed with pleasure than you’ve ever been. You push his hair back, able to see him for the first time, and fully appreciate the hollow of his cheeks, the way he looks up at you with perfect, glassy half-lidded eyes, the rhythm of his hand and tongue—he takes your clit between his lips once more, sucking lightly, and you’re done for. A pornographic sob escapes from deep within you as you come, but he doesn’t stop. The orgasm lasts longer than you knew one could—although, it’s only your second time, so you don’t exactly have a lot of data to go off of. Your entire body feels warm and floaty, and what he’s doing feels so good you want him even deeper—but you know he won’t give you that yet. Instead you focus on the slow burn of your orgasm, allowing him to carry on for a while until you begin slowly drifting back to earth and it becomes a bit too much. He recognizes the barely-there whine for what it is and pulls his fingers from you carefully, pressing one final kiss to your clit that makes your legs twitch and summons a weak little moan.
Spencer’s lips find other avenues, over the delicate skin of your thighs and hips and stomach as he slowly drags himself up again. By the time you’re face to face again you’re still breathing hard. You sort of feel like prey underneath his weight, studied so scrupulously, known far more intimately by him than anyone has ever known you before. But there is so much light and kindness in the way he looks at you that you almost can’t make sense of it.
Maybe it’s possible to be known and still wanted. The possibility spins like a coin on its edge in your mind. An idea you spent so much time trying to nurture and is only just now beginning to sprout. Maybe someone could see you at your most vulnerable, and still find you worthy of kindness. Appreciation. Affection.
Spencer certainly could, it seems, as he ducks down to kiss you. You dodge it, turning your head demurely. He nudges his head against yours, speaking so, so softly, utterly cloying as he teases, “what? You’re not gonna kiss me now? Is that how it is?”
“No!” you balk, equally as quiet and especially bashful. “Not when you… no.”
“Let me kiss you,” he pleads, so earnestly you turn your head back to face him. His big eyes are hazy, reflecting all the warmth and dizziness you feel. “Let me kiss you. Please.”
You whine.
“I don’t wanna… taste… myself.”
Spencer doesn’t miss a beat.
“Hm. We’ll need to work on that. Because one day, I’ll make you come just like that again, and then I’m going to fuck you, and you’re really going to want me to kiss you then, angel.”
Something flickers in your core.
Suddenly you’re not so squeamish. You really want him to kiss you now. But it seems he’s going to have his fun, first.
“Open.” Without even thinking about it, your lips part. He really ought to be careful with what he tells you to do—you’re all too compliant. Even as his fingers slip between your lips, you’re obediently hollowing your cheeks around them, watching him with big eyes as his own mouth falls slightly open. “Oh, baby,” he croons. “What are we gonna do with you?”
That flicker has returned to a full-fledged throbbing once you open your mouth again, slightly dizzy from lack of oxygen.
“Can you make me come again right now?” you whisper, grasping lightly at his shirt. He grins like he loves the idea—and you let him have his way, accepting his lips on yours with no complaint. After a few moments, (the taste is surprisingly unobtrusive), he pulls away.
“I would love to.”
-
part three
#spencer reid#spencer reid smut#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid x fem!reader#spencer reid fic#spencer reid x self insert#spencer reid fanfic#criminal minds fanfic#criminal minds smut
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The Gambit (Hotch x Fem!Reader) -- part two
I'm bored so [smashes plate] ANOTHER! I've been writing this faster than I thought I would 🤭 Hope everyone is having lovely and relaxing holidays xx
Warnings: just angst and the case progressing! Hotch is kinda an asshole but it's just how they show their love to each other xoxo
“You and Hotch still got it, huh?” Morgan teases, leaning his head over to grin at you. Part of you missed car rides with Derek, and the other part of you remembers just how much of a little shit he can be.
“Shut up and look at the road,” you mutter, pushing his face away from you.
“I’m looking, I’m looking,” Derek taps the wheel, shaking his head to get your hand off him. “What is it with you two, anyway?”
You shrug nonchalantly. “We’ve never gotten along, you know that. You were there when we met.”
“Uh, yeah, I remember being glad Hotch got all the heat instead of me,” Derek chuckles. “You’re intimidating when you’re pissed off.”
“Good,” you say, smirking. “That’s the point.”
“Alright,” Derek says, letting the topic go. For now. “We’ve got five minutes ‘til we reach her house. What are we telling her?”
“Well, I want to take a look around, if you’d like to talk.”
“I can stall,” Derek nods.
“Five bucks says there will be no pictures of the father in the house, at least not in the living area or hallway, where family photos most commonly are.”
“You sound like Reid,” Morgan quips.
“Our IQ’s are really close,” you remind him. “I just don’t have a damn eidetic memory. That shit is insane. I don’t envy him there.”
“Me either,” Derek shakes his head. “I remember things plenty without a magic memory.”
“I hear that.”
Derek turns into the driveway of Lila’s home. One car is in the driveway, a silver Ford. Her mom’s car.
“Ready?” Derek asks.
“Never,” you reply, opening your door. “But it’s our job.”
Derek knocks on the front door, but stands back so you’re the first face the mom will see. Given who her ex-husband is, you suspect she might be distrustful of all men, regardless of whether or not they’re here to help.
As expected, the mom eyes Morgan’s badge more closely than yours.
“May we come inside?” you ask.
“Yes,” she says, pulling the door open to let you both inside.
“Thank you, ma’am,” Morgan says politely.
After shutting the door, the mom begins talking — rambling incoherently, more like.
“I don’t know what I was thinking, dropping her off at school this morning. I knew something felt off when I woke up, it just— I don’t know what I was thinking.”
“Ma’am,” Derek says. “Please, sit down.”
“I can’t,” she says, waving both of her hands like windshield wipers in front of her body. “I need to pace. Helps me think better.”
Derek looks at you, and you shrug. She’s obviously too wound up to sit down. Which is a good sign. If she was indifferent or resigned, there would be a bigger issue at hand. Clearly, she had no idea this would happen, so she definitely wasn’t in on it.
You take a look around the living room while Derek calms the mother down, mostly just letting her ramble, and take mental notes of what to ask her about later.
As you predicted, there are no photos with the father in the picture. All of them are the mother and Lila, mostly baby photos. Lila is a pre-teen, she clearly doesn’t want her photo taken. There is one where Lila looks older, but she’s not happy.
You take a closer look. She’s really unhappy.
“Mrs. Monroe?” You turn toward her, a sympathetic smile on your lips. “Has Lila been depressed lately?”
Her mom nods. “She’s been struggling ever since uhm— Ever since her father left. I’ve had her in therapy every week, but her therapist says she’s not really opening up. She might later, but right now she just doesn’t talk at all. She doesn’t want to.”
“I understand,” you murmur. “You’ve done the right thing by getting her help. Even if it doesn’t seem like it right now.”
“She still ran away!” Mrs. Monroe cries.
“Please,” you move toward her, resting your hand on her arm. “Let’s sit. Can Agent Morgan get you a glass of water?”
She nods, looking up at Morgan. “Thank you.”
Derek disappears into the kitchen.
“What makes you think Lila ran away? Other than her mood, were there any other signs?”
Mrs. Monroe shakes her head. “She’s talked about it before, told me she wanted to run away and that she hated me. I thought therapy would help with that, but it hasn’t.”
“Would her father help her at all? Run away, I mean.”
“Richard?” Mrs. Monroe asks. Derek reappears with a glass of water, handing it to her. “Thank you. No, he wouldn’t, he— She doesn’t even know what he’s done. I’ve never told her.”
“Would she be capable of finding out?” Derek asks. He takes a seat in the chair adjacent to you, resting his elbows on his knees.
“No,” Mrs. Monroe shakes her head. “I monitor all of her Internet searches, who she texts, who she emails, everything. She thinks I drove him away. That I didn’t love him anymore and told him to get out. She doesn’t know that it was because I caught him burying a body.” She sobs into her hand, her words barely decipherable now. “And now she’s gone and she hates me and I don’t even know where she’d go— it’s like I don’t even know my own daughter.”
You take the glass from her hand and allow her to sob into your shoulder. You know what this is like. Because you were once Lila, a runaway who left her mother in pieces until she returned home. Your circumstances were different, but not by much at all.
“We will bring her home, I promise,” you say, despite yourself. Despite not knowing what the rest of this case will entail, what else you’ll uncover. “Did Lila have any friends that you didn’t approve of?”
Mrs. Monroe shakes her head again. “She doesn’t have many friends, but she talks to one girl, Marie, almost every day.”
“Where is Marie right now?”
“At school,” Mrs. Monroe says, sniffling. “I called her mom right away. My mind went to the worst case scenario, you know, I thought Lila would grab Marie and convince her to go with her—”
“Convince?” you question.
Derek hears you and asks the next question you have on your mind. “Does Lila ‘convince’ Marie to do things she doesn’t want to do often?”
“Sometimes,” Mrs. Monroe admits, beginning to sob again. “Oh, God.”
You share a look with Derek, not liking where this is going, but you don’t know if you’ll get much else out of her right now.
“What things would Lila convince Marie to do?” you ask.
“Just small things, I don’t know,” Mrs. Monroe replies. She’s shutting down. “I don’t know why I said that, I—”
“Okay, okay, it’s okay,” you try to calm her down. “Do you mind if Agent Morgan and I take a look in Lila’s room?”
“How will that help?”
“We might be able to find something that could tell us where Lila might have gone,” Morgan explains. “Sometimes kids leave clues. We might be able to find them.”
Mrs. Monroe nods. “Okay. Can I— Is it alright if I lay down while you do that?”
“Of course,” you smile. “Come on, let’s get you to your room.”
You help her stand and walk back toward her bedroom, getting her inside. She lays down on top of the covers and shuts her eyes.
You close her door and meet Morgan back in the living room, his phone pressed to his ear.
“Y/N’s back, you’re on speaker, Hotch.”
You roll your eyes involuntarily. Hotch couldn’t leave the two of you — mainly you — alone, could he?
“Alright, I want the two of you to stay there and go through Lila’s room. Tell us anything you find. The school has given Garcia their security camera footage; she’s going through it now. It’s like she’s disappeared into thin air and that is not good.”
“We’ll find her, Hotch,” Morgan says.
Hotch is quiet.
“Mrs. Monroe doesn’t think Richard had anything to do with this. She says Lila doesn’t even know—”
“Morgan told me,” Hotch says. “Call me back when you have something new.” He hangs up and you roll your eyes again.
“I’m gonna keep a tally of how many times you do that,” Morgan teases.
“Be my guest,” you reply. “And keep me updated. I bet it’ll be in the hundreds by the time this case is over.”
Lila’s room is everything you’d expect from a regular pre-teen girl. And reminds you too much of your room when you were her age.
It’s almost like she’s too open. Posters are everywhere. Her favorite movies, actors, and bands. Her bed is made. Her closet is neat. The desk is covered in schoolbooks, yet also clean.
“Morgan, I know this room.”
He turns around. “What?”
“We can know everything about her from one glance. She’s organized. She loves English, hates science, but is very good at math. She likes alternative music, not boybands,” you point to the posters. “Fantasy movies only. Her closet is too neat. It’s like she’s not even living here.”
“I’m not following.”
“I think she’s been planning her escape for a long time,” you say. “Which makes me think she had help.”
“Okay,” Morgan goes with it. “From who? You heard her mom, she watches everything Lila does.”
My mom did too, you think to yourself as you pull out your phone. You already have Garcia on speed dial, something she suggested for you.
“What can I do for you, my new angel?”
Morgan chuckles while you answer Garcia. “Can you possibly see the search history after it’s been deleted?”
“Duh,” Garcia says. “Give me the IP address and I can show you all the dirty, dirty secrets on there.”
“Perfect, I’m going now,” you leave Lila’s room, peeking in Mrs. Monroe’s room to be sure she’s still resting. She is.
You head to the living room where you saw Mrs. Monroe’s computer. Thankfully, after wiggling the mouse, it comes right up. No password or anything.
“Okay, she must really watch what Lila does,” you mumble. As in, Mrs. Monroe must stand over her daughter’s shoulder before even letting her turn the computer on. “How do I…?”
Garcia laughs and tells you what to click to pull up the information she needs. You recite it to her and she quickly works her magic.
“Oh, no.”
“Garcia,” you reply warily. “I don’t like the sound of that.”
Morgan hears you and comes into the living room. “What happened?”
“I don’t know,” you glance at him. “Garcia, what is it?”
“I’m going to need a minute to go through everything but…”
“Garcia, spit it out,” you put her on speaker, lowering the volume so only you and Morgan can hear her. “Garcia?”
“I don’t know for sure, but at first glance, this looks…it looks like she wanted to go with this person.”
“Shit,” you mutter. “Okay. We’ll call Hotch, you keep digging.”
“Aye, aye.”
You turn the computer off and pocket your phone. “We need to go back to the precinct. I don’t want to risk her overhearing.”
“Okay. Good call.”
“I’m gonna let her know we’re leaving,” you say. “I’ll meet you in the car.”
You wake Mrs. Monroe briefly to let her know you and Agent Morgan are leaving. You assure her that you’re going to bring Lila home, but that you’re needed at the precinct right now, and don’t want to disturb her rest. You hand her your card, telling her the number is the same, even though it doesn’t have BAU yet on it.
Morgan is leaning against the car when you emerge outside, sick to your stomach.
“You alright?” he asks.
“Yeah,” you say. “Just hate lying to mothers.”
+++
You and Morgan decide to wait until you’re at the precinct to tell everyone what Garcia found. Better to break this news quietly in person than on the phone.
Hotch is speaking to a deputy when you walk in, but you flag him down with a nod, hoping he won’t take it personally. You’re too on edge right now to bother being irritated with him.
Once everyone is in the conference room, you shut the door.
“Garcia should be calling any minute,” you begin. “She’s going through Mrs. Monroe’s computer. Mrs. Monroe said she watches everything Lila does, but clearly not close enough, because Lila was on a popular chatting site talking with someone regularly.”
“Right she was,” Garcia joins in, having been listening on the nearby computer. Her smile is sad. “And it does not look good. I’m still digging, but a Rich34 was in constant contact with her. I’m talking every single night for hours. Mostly from 1am to 4am, while I’m assuming her mother was sleeping.”
“What do the chats say, Garcia?” Emily asks.
“Nothing more than small talk right now, but I’m digging. It’ll take a while though, sir, I’m afraid they’ve been talking for months. Almost a year, I think.”
“Dammit,” you mutter. “I was afraid of that.”
Morgan sends you a sympathetic look.
“Garcia, see if you can track Rich’s identity in any way possible. It could be her father,” Hotch says.
“Or someone posing as her father,” you suggest, earning a glare from Hotch.
“Hey Garcia, send over all the chats, I can help you look through them,” Spencer offers.
“Alright kiddo, PG out.” The line clicks.
“Reid, look for anything relating to Richard Monroe’s history, or maybe Lila’s mother. Lila and her mother haven’t been getting along, and Rich might’ve used that to get Lila away,” Hotch instructs.
Reid nods, already leaning over to grab the chat messages off the fax machine. Garcia knows him so well; she sent over hardcopies instead of electronic.
“Do we think it’s Richard Monroe in the chat room?” Emily asks.
“I’m not convinced,” Rossi says with a small shake of his head.
“I don’t,” you answer, shaking your head. “The username is too obvious.”
“He could be taunting us by using an obvious screen name,” Hotch counters. “He’s evaded us for this long. Why would he bother hiding now?”
“Yes, but I don’t think Richard Monroe is behind this,” you argue. “Murder in cold blood is his thing. So why wouldn’t he just go grab her from the house? Why is he playing the long game like this? Why form this emotional connection if he’s just going to kill her?”
“Because he’s a murderer with no regard for anyone’s emotions other than his own,” Hotch fires back. “And because he likely holds a grudge against his ex-wife for divorcing him and taking Lila away.”
Now all eyes of the team are on the two of you, going back and forth like a tennis match.
“He murders women his own age. Lila is barely thirteen. If he wanted her so badly, he could have easily grabbed her by now and killed her. Why wait almost a year?”
“Her mother is watching her closely, and he—”
“Oh now you agree that her mother is overbearing.”
“Yes, because you met with her and confirmed it with actual evidence,” Hotch snaps. He pauses, staring at you. “We cannot rule out Richard Monroe.”
“We’ll be wasting our time if we don’t.”
“Why are you so insistent?”
“Call it a gut feeling.”
“You haven’t been doing this job long enough to have a trustworthy gut feeling,” Hotch says coldly. “Now, if you want to continue arguing, I suggest you do so with the wall. Otherwise, we have a young girl to find and her father is a priority suspect. Am I clear?”
“As river water,” you mutter. “Excuse me.” You push past your new boss, hating that he’s already gotten so deep under your skin. Again.
#aaron hotchner#criminal minds#aaron hotchner x reader#aaron hotchner x fem!reader#aaron hotchner x you#aaron hotchner fanfiction#hotch x reader#hotch x you#hotch x fem!reader#hotch fanfiction#criminal minds fanfiction#aaron hotchner fanfic#hotch fanfic#The Gambit#enemies to lovers#angst angst angst
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THE ISLAND LOOKOUT (pt.7): the cut - (smau & irl au) childhood bsf!rafe cameron x thornton!reader
series masterlist; general masterlist; taglist
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part 6- part 7 - part 8
unlike common belief, the four never hated the pogues. well not all of them at least, only if they had a reason to. people just assumed they hated pogues because people assumed they were the asshole type of kook, and sure they weren’t the type to always have their nice face on, but they weren’t mean; not with intention. they knew not to make enemies unless they had a reason to.
so even if people called it “weird” when sarah started talking to john b, none of them really minded.
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the next day;
rafe pulls up outside your house, headlights cutting through the dim evening glow. you climb into the backseat, kicking your feet up onto the console as sarah turns around in the passenger seat, already smirking.
“you took forever.”
“cry about it,” you shoot back.
rafe doesn’t react like usual. just exhales through his nose, tapping his fingers against the wheel before reversing out of the driveway. the ride to the cut is mostly sarah filling the silence, rambling about john b’s latest scheme. you half-listen, half-watch rafe through the mirror. he’s not brooding exactly, just off.
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by the time you pull up, the pogues are already there. john b’s messing with something on the hms pogue, kiara, cleo and pope sit on the dock talking, and jj—jj is the first to notice you. he tips his beer slightly, a slow grin creeping onto his face.
“well, look what the tide dragged in,” he drawls, eyes flicking between the three of you before landing on you.
you nod your head as an acknowledgement,
“yn” you say simply, stepping onto the dock.
jj cocks his eyebrow in confusion. "yn? thought it was roni."
you chuckle, "looks like someone did their research," looking at him.
jj smirks, "couldn't help my self," shrugging. "you drink?” he asks, handing you a open bottle.
you take the beer he hands you without breaking eye contact. “obviously.”
jj lets out a low whistle, clearly entertained. “alright then. let’s see if you can keep up.”
at first, you aren’t sure how the night will go, but somehow, you keep finding yourself next to jj. it’s not intentional—at least, not at first—but it just works. he’s sarcastic, reckless, always running his mouth, and somehow, it’s like talking to a male version of yourself.
at one point, jj leans in, grinning. “you’re actually kinda perfect.”
you raise an eyebrow. “yeah?”
“yeah,” he nods. “like, if i wasn’t me, i’d be you. which is honestly kinda terrifying.”
you smirk, taking a sip of your drink. “so what i’m hearing is—you’re obsessed with me.”
jj laughs, shaking his head. “might be.” then, like it’s the most casual thing in the world, he hands you his phone. “here. before i forget.”
you take it, glancing at the screen. he already has a new contact pulled up.
“oh, so you just assume i want your number?”
jj smirks. “you don’t?”
you roll your eyes but type it in anyway, handing the phone back. he glances at the screen, then back at you. “snap too?”
“god, you’re relentless,” you mutter, grabbing the phone again.
meanwhile, rafe lingers on the outskirts of the group. he’s there, but not really. drinking, laughing when necessary, but never fully sinking in. you notice. you clock the way he stands apart, how he never fully relaxes. but you don’t press it.
not yet.
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later, after everything has settled, you get a noitification from being added to a group chat full of unknown numbers except jj and sarah. assuming its the members of today, you send a text.
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you toss your phone onto the bed, something unsettled lingering in your chest. your mind kept jumping back to rafe's words, 'not used to hanging out with other people.'
the fuck was that supposed to mean?
tags under the cut!!
tags: @italk2god @angelicameron @marleymarleymarleymarley, @queenvane64, @raeven-marie43 @idiotussupremus @sereneera @yesshewrites1 @inlovewithchriss @ethanthequeefqueen @amterasuu @popou61 @drewsstars @yannew @anothertimegirl @flvredcas @yootvi @mrsdrewstarkeyy @niaunofficial @cooper8224 @rafegetinmybed @pogueprincesa @6r4cie @adalia-lovelace @bee-43 @drewrry @masongetinmybed @defnotayonna @lcversvoid @my-name-is-baby @lolasangelz @polli05927 @laniirackssss @rafecamerobswifeyy
#the island lookout :cambankromyy#rafe cameron#rafe#rafe smau#rafe cameron smau#obx#outerbanks#outer banks#rafe cameron x reader#obx smau#rafe cameron smut#rafe smut#rafe cameron fluff#rafe fluff#thornton!reader#topper thornton#bsf!rafe cameron#childhood bsf!rafe#sarah cameron
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Can we get some general jealous headcanons for Sun Wukong, Macaque and the Nine headed demon? Pretty please?
OH MY GOSH ABSOLUTELY I LOVE THEM AND I LOVE WRITING THEM JEALOUS (even if I suck at it, we're not going to talk about that)
I try my best to balance fluff and stuff with more realistic traits like the more toxic aspects and stuff, and that might not be everyone's cup of tea. With a subject like jealousy it tends to skew more towards angsty traits because all three of these men have issues.
Per usual, I'm sorry if I go off request, I can not focus while writing for the life of me and I always get sidetracked. I'm working on it though. That's part of the reason this took so long- I had to keep deleting and rewriting everything because it didn't fit the theme-
~*Jealousy SWK, SEM, NHD*~
~Sun Wukong~
Surprisingly the least jealous of the three... on the surface, at least
Separation anxiety; he's a monkey so physical affection is really important for him
Poor clingy insecure whiner boy :(
Loves having his arms around you; will carry you if you let him
doesn't like sleeping without you close and if he wakes up and you're not there he's 100% panicking. Safe to say it will take a lot of convincing to let you leave his sight that day
He doesn't really mind much if other people flirt with you, he trusts you and doubts a couple of pickup lines from a friend or coworker or whatever will be enough to take you from him, he traveled with Zhu Bajie during the journey after all, he's used to watching people flirt and nothing come out of it
He uses disassociation as a coping mechanism so he doesn't get super upset if your attention isn't on him 24/7 because he's usually thinking about something else anyway, but in the times when he is present, he'll shut down and be pretty sad if you don't give him attention
He's a bit more... intense when it comes to physical contact though
In the case that you're touching someone else, hugging them, or patting them on the back or whatever, he'll get all pouty and won't stop looking at you like a pathetic wet cat until you give him attention instead
If someone touches you though he'll death glare them
Not afraid to show he's jealous
He wants you to know that he wants you by his side exclusively
If anything he's afraid of not showing you enough
Constantly trying to walk the line between "not being too controlling" but also "not seeming like he doesn't care"
On one hand, everything he's learned from his master tells him to take a step back and let things happen as they will, but on the other hand, he's tired of losing the people he cares about, ESPECIALLY when there are times he could've prevented it
Really just wants to be good for you
Hates the idea that there's someone out there who's better for you than him, but knows letting you leave would be the right thing to do (even if he cries about it)
~Six-Eared Macaque~
Kinda possessive and controlling but is doing his best to improve for you
Unlike Wukong who will sometimes be affectionate with the rest of the crew, Macaque only really trusts you, and sometimes Mk (Mk's a bit too loud and energetic for him most of the time though)
Abandonment issues incarnate (though he usually displays this by pushing people away before they can leave him... just expect a lot of silent treatments from him)
Wraps his tail around your wrist or ankle to assure himself you're close. He'll wrap his tail around your waist if he's feeling particularly possessive
Prefers to have you close by but doesn't rely on physical affection as much as Wukong
Likes being in the same room as you while you both do your own things
Wants to be the first person you tell any big news to (though knowing him he already knows from slinking through the shadows...)
People flirting with you ticks him off
How could anyone else think they deserve you? (This may or may not be him deflecting his own thoughts about how he doesn't deserve you onto other people)
He loves listening to you ramble or lore dump but he'll get all tense and cagey if you start talking about something you did with someone else
Doesn't mind if your attention is on something else, but does get kinda upset when your attention is on someone else
Feels the need to one-up anyone you say anything positive about
You liked the waiter's dress at that restaurant you went to? Macaque's showing up in an even better dress the next day
Will not hesitate to bad-mouth someone he's jealous of
Sees anyone touching you as a threat and he immediately feels like he needs to protect you
Sees you touching anyone else as him not being good enough and will either close himself off for a few days or obsess over being perfect for you
Afraid to show he's jealous
Has to keep his aloof demeanor or you'll think he cares too much and you'll leave :(
Still kinda believes power and manipulation are the best way to get what you want but is working on more healthy ideals like "communicating his thoughts" and "not sending people to the shadow realm whenever they get too close to you"
Doesn't want to hurt or scare you but he will fight to keep you by his side
He'll eventually relent if you really want to leave though, I don't think he would be able to handle trapping you with him if it's not what you want
~Nine-Headed Demon~
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Pretty possessive and controlling and doesn't really plan on changing
Superiority complex
Has decided you're his and if you think otherwise you're just confused
The most manipulative on the list
I'm not entirely sure where to begin with his issues but there's definitely some insecurity
Gives you the illusion of choice and freedom
"You can choose whatever you want as long as you always choose me and no one else :)"
He knows he's better than everyone else but he's afraid of you not seeing that
Even if he's not the most affectionate person, he'll definitely get upset if anyone gets too affectionate with you or vice versa
Needs to know where you are 24/7 or he goes on a rampage in his full dragon form
Kinda the Mother Gothel of partners
If you tell him he's being too overbearing he'll get offended and try and convince you he's just doing what's best for you
He does genuinely think he's doing what's best for you
The only way he would ever change is if he failed to reach the chaos, but that's a story for another time
He refuses to admit to being jealous and instead insists he's just keeping you safe
I don't even think he knows he's jealous
~
Despite how much I adore NHD's design, I am incapable of writing him as a healthy partner-
Anyway, I hope you enjoyed it! Thoughts are appreciated. I'm sorry NHD's was so short writing for Wukong and Mac is just a lot easier since we have multiple seasons worth of content with them.
#lego monkie kid#lmk#monkie kid#sun wukong#macaque#six eared macaque#lego macaque#lego monkey kid macaque#lego monkie kid macaque#lmk macaque#lmk six eared macaque#macaque lmk#macaque x reader#monkie kid macaque#the six eared macaque#lmk sun wukong#lmk wukong#liu er mihou#nine headed demon#nine headed beast#lmk headcanon
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So this started out as some scribbly thoughts on FTM Steve and devolved a little bit into smutty Steddie rambling. As happens. So anyway, explicit text below the cut, click through at your own discretion, et cetera
Warnings(?) for some clumsy language and hints of period-typical transphobia; some discussion of Steve and Nancy together, but only for Steddie purposes. This is mostly just silly
-
“So, wait, you slept with how many girls in high school, and still managed to keep this a secret?” Eddie asks, brows climbing his forehead.
“Not as many as rumor would’ve had you think.” Steve shrugs. “Like maybe four? The rest, I just… didn’t discourage when they exaggerated. Helped my image.”
Eddie can’t help but snort. He’s glad Steve outgrew that image. “Still, four is a lot to keep a lid on. All of them agreed not to tell and then just – didn’t?”
“Actually, most of them never found out. It was only–” Steve pauses, eyeing Eddie cautiously, as if talking about his past female sexual conquests with his current boyfriend is fine, but what he’s going to say next will be a bridge too far. “It was only Nancy who ever knew.”
Ah.
Ah, yes. Nancy. Nancy Wheeler. Steve’s one true love.
Until now, Eddie fiercely reminds himself. He eyes the t-shirt that is very much his that Steve is very much wearing and slides over the jealousy to address his more pressing question.
“Okay, how did you have sex with at least three other people without them finding out you don’t have a–” Eddie stops short, fumbles for a moment, “a, uh, conventional dick?”
Steve snickers. “Nice save. And, uh – I never actually took off my pants. My talents are in other areas, and I always provided enough of a distraction that they didn’t seem to notice when I just… took care of myself.” He wiggles his eyebrows at Eddie, who can’t help but give him the laugh he’s looking for. “It didn’t say flattering things about my stamina, but multiple orgasms are a pretty good bribe. I got good reviews.”
“Huh.” Somehow, Eddie can’t help but feel impressed; he doesn’t quite understand why Steve had felt the need to do it at all—still doesn’t really understand Steve’s drive for popularity when he’d been in high school—but he can admit the skill in the subterfuge. “But you told Wheeler?”
He’s not sure why he’s asking. A part of him, he thinks, wants to make sure Steve had been able to tell her on his own terms, rather than having his hand forced.
Steve shifts, shrugs. He doesn’t look sad, but he’s maybe a little melancholy.
“Nance wasn’t… temporary, for me. She wasn’t a fling, and I didn’t want to hide from her. And it’s the same with you.” Steve’s gaze falls heavy on Eddie. “You are the… third? person I’ve ever told. I want you to know just– all of me.”
Eddie reaches out, grabbing for Steve’s hand; he’s pretty sure he’d be physically incapable of stopping himself from somehow touching Steve after an admission like that.
A thought is beginning to form, however, leading back to what had started this conversation in the first place. Eddie would bet anything that if Wheeler was the first person Steve told, then Buckley was the second.
And that meant only one person Steve had slept with had ever known all of him – but just how much of all of him had Wheeler been interested in?
“How’d she take it? Wheeler, I mean,” Eddie asks, as casually as possible while his thumb is still stroking Steve’s knuckles.
“Uh… pretty good, actually. She was kinda surprised, and she wanted a little bit of time to come around to the idea, but I think she was mostly just bothered that she didn’t figure it out before I told her.” Steve smiles, distantly fond. “But after that, she was cool. We didn’t talk about it much, but I knew that I could talk to her if I wanted to. I’d never had that before. It was… nice.”
It does sound nice. It had probably been the first time anyone had ever been close to accepting every part of who Steve is, and Eddie feels almost bad about turning the memory to sex.
Almost, but not quite.
“So… she was cool with…” Eddie’s eyes flash down below the belt, obvious and significant, “getting involved?”
A sly grin spreads over Steve’s face as he catches Eddie’s eyes. “Are you trying to ask what Nancy and I did in bed?”
Eddie throws his hands up in defense, forgetting for a moment that he’s holding one of Steve’s hands and pulling it up with him. “I’m just trying to figure out what I’m working with here,” he insists, smiling a little too hard to be innocent. “Now, you insinuated you have talents in the oral and digital departments—which I am very interested in, by the way—but what I want to know is what’s been done for you.”
Steve eyes Eddie like he’s considering whether or not to answer, but the way he’s licking his lips says he’s already decided, even if he doesn’t quite realize that himself.
“She… definitely didn’t mind being involved,” he says finally; there’s a slight stain of pink gathering at the tops of his cheeks that Eddie sort of wants to bite. “She would finger me. Sometimes she’d go down on me, but I think we both enjoyed it more the other way around. I think she liked seeing me get myself off while I did it, and I– definitely liked that, too.”
Eddie makes the mistake of imagining it: Steve on his knees, fingers buried in his cunt, wet and dripping, his hips jerking down onto his own hand, maybe kneeling between Eddie’s legs while he does it, maybe looking up through his lashes while he sucks Eddie’s cock.
A little noise escapes Eddie.
“How about… toys?” he manages after a moment. He’s leaning closer now, raptly watching the way the flush on Steve’s face darkens. “You ever try those?”
“I have a… a couple,” Steve says, voice gone low and rough, his eyes fastened now to Eddie’s mouth. “We didn’t use them together, though, they’re just mine.”
Oh, they’re going to revisit that. They are absolutely going to revisit that, but right now Eddie is on a mission. He won’t let himself be distracted.
He slides closer, practically on top of Steve now, one hand on his hip and the other spread warmly over his ribs.
“Never thought about a strap?” he asks.
Steve shrugs, not nearly as nonchalant as he’s pretending. “Thought about it, never quite got there.”
“Which way were you thinking? Would you have worn it? Or…” Eddie is going out on a limb here; just because Steve has a pussy doesn’t mean he likes the idea of penetration, but Eddie has a hunch. “Or would it have been the other way around?”
A sharp breath escapes Steve’s chest. “Do you want that?” he asks, soft, almost hopeful.
Eddie strokes a thumb across his ribs. “Want what?”
“To fuck me.”
This time it’s Eddie who goes breathless. “Is that even a fucking question?” he demands, and then, in case he wasn’t clear, adds, “I would want very much to do that, yeah. If you want me to.”
“I wasn’t sure if you would,” Steve says. “I mean, I know you’re strictly into guys, and I don’t exactly have… a conventional dick.”
“You’re not gonna let that one go, are you?” Eddie asks, eyeing Steve’s smirk.
“We’ll see,” Steve says, which likely means no.
“Fine. But Steve,” Eddie reaches up, cupping Steve’s face in his hands, “I am one hundred fucking percent into you. You are a guy. You are an incredibly hot guy whose pants I have been wanting to get into forever, no matter what you’ve got in there.”
Steve smiles, and Eddie caresses the corners of it with his thumbs.
“Well, you do seem to prefer the weirder shit, anyway,” Steve murmurs.
“Not weird. Different,” Eddie says, and Steve makes a face at him but readily allows him the kiss he presses in for after that.
“So have you…” Steve starts, once they’ve broken apart, “ever been with a guy with my, uh– sort of equipment?”
Eddie would make fun of how awkwardly the words had tumbled out if he hadn’t suddenly been feeling a bit awkward himself.
“Not, uh, exactly.” Steve raises an eyebrow at him and Eddie amends snappishly, “okay, fine, not at all, no.”
“But you’re open to it?” Steve checks, as if the way Eddie has pressed against him like a needy cat has left any room for doubt.
“More than open,” Eddie says. “I might just, y’know– need some direction? To start with?”
“Directions, huh?” Steve smirks. “I can work with that.”
Eddie has no doubt that he can – and that Eddie will enjoy every second of it.
#steddie#steve harrington#eddie munson#trans steve harrington#stranger things#solar wrote#let me know if there's something I need to tag this with that I missed#eddiesteve
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A Christmas beneath Heaven P2 | React | Days 1 & 2
Woooo we've made it to the second part of the event ya'll! And just as I expected, this is already crazy within the first two days of content Let's do a little recap though, just in case ya'll are seeing this first hand and not the other posts I've made!
MC is down with what they call a 'christmas cold' in Hell. Solomon had it before as well. The symptoms with MC is in short, they can't stop masturbating or getting horny and it's pretty much draining the life out of them. The Kings meet and decide that they must cure her and with the help of Bael finding an old devil with some information the medicine is located in the Middle Realm that is guarded by the first fallen angel, Achazriel. Because they all can't infiltrate all at once, each King must go one at a time, but it's looking like it's more cumbersome than they expected.
Now that you get the general idea without the extra stuff let's continue- S u M m A r Yyyyy~
The first King to make an attempt to infilitrate the Middle Realm is Belphegor. The problem though, is that everyone, including Belphie himself all turn to Beleth who's confused as fuck until he realizes, he's the one that must go in his King's stead.
When I say, that nobody had his back on this, not even Belphie I mean it. Beleth though says that it shouldn't take him long and he'd be okay.
I find it funny though that it was brought up that it's kinda messed up to send a fallen angel back to deal with other fallen angels and everyone's like ????!!! WAIT as if they didn't realize that.
But then we have Bael, sweet bby worried about Beleth and I have a small ramble about that. Not only are they neighboring countries, but the two of them are literally twins in the sense of they both babysit their King, and pretty much run things for their respective countries. So he has sympathy for him in that regard.
Beel doesn't really care though, saying that everyone should place bets for how long it will take Beleth before he comes back. Bimet is doing the math in his head, Asmodeus guessed it...they have this odd moment...
That odd moment being that Bimet was curious as to what made Asmodeus agree with him that 2 days would be the max and Asmo teases him into saying that he can't possibly believe he'd give away information without 'something' in return and Bimet is just kinda like 'oop. my bad... 😶' when Asmo's like...'these devils not giving me bussy is cruel' (not really but he's probably thinking that)
And well, everyone puts their bets in other than Leviathan and Lucifer because they find it pointless. Lucifer honestly just chooses to not engage due to "professionalism" (lmaooo) Belphie even randomly wakes up and is like "yah 3 days is my bet" and goes back to sleep, Bimet changes his bet too. Like good lord everyone believe in my bby pls.
Well...and just as Asmodeus (and Bimet but sadly he changed his number) guessed it...Beleth is back in two days and the poor babes is beat up badly. But at least Asmo agrees to share the winnings with Beleth (he has a thing for him I swear)
I'll spare you the theatrics of how they tried guessing what happened to him, but there was joke that he was fighting Harumon, which wasn't the issue. The issue is that Beleth was paranoid of the traps set, transformed into his cat self, and well...did a cat thing and got trapped anyway because his size triggered them all at the same time. (Let me add that Lucifer was able to tell what injuries Beleth had just by looking at him and what the cause was a "catfight" is what he called it)
The kings are all laughing at him (aside from Lucifer and Levi) like even Belphie is poking at him and I'm just like??? Leave him alone ????? So what he was a clumsy kitty, cats do dumb shit all the time here on Earth 💀🥺😭 I'd pet him and tell him he's a good kitty.
Levi however, is only upset because he came back with just the info of "there are traps" but nothing else. I think Beleth tried his best, he was just.....not on his A-game sadly.
So the next devil to go is Mammon. He just straight up grabs the dice, rolls it and his number comes up. And with no surprise, he gets through the traps so easily it's second nature to him and his giant hands. But the timeline for traveling through all the traps was half a day compared to Beleth getting beat up for two days. 😭
Now, he DOES make it all to the way the gate, Mammon interested in the door and it's materials, and then it opens on it's own so now he's like OOOO NEW TECH MINE. (one track mind...)
So he walks in, and it looks really pretty btw...I'd probably sleep there and he sees the first fallen (hot asf) angel Achazriel. So it appears that this fallen angel is for the most part docile and just kinda sits on the chair he's in. Though, he does know who Mammon is, though very little is known about him.
He doesn't even want to fight, he challenges Mammon by asking him one question, if he answers it within 10 seconds he won't have to leave. In the Middle Realm, his word is law, so if he loses Mammon will be forced out by that rule.
Guess what the question was? "Who is most precious to you." I was like OH this is easy, MC! Well....our uh big stud here went through all of ten seconds thinking of other things and people even the souls in his body before he realized it was MC that was the answer but it was too late 😒🙃😭😭 Like??? Okay Mammon thanks love you too. Because the point of the entire trip was to heal MC and I'm like??? W T F. Satan could have answered that question easily I bet (he seems to be the OTP Kings wise)
So...Mammon failed, but at least he had more information. He didn't tell them the question that was asked, which I assumed no one asked him directly so he had no reason to reveal. (I bet you Satan would have laughed at him for getting it wrong and be like HA the answer is MC you idiot. or something like that)
Beel is up next! And well...since Mammon did all the footwork, he basically just had to walk up there, meet Achzariel and was straight up like "Give me the medicine." Beel....pls.....
PHEW so this summary was longer than the others because yeah so far Part Two's stories are far longer than Part One's! When I do the screenshots hopefully everything fits in this post. Some may have to be exlcuded ;w;
Let's get to the screencapssssss
idk i found this cute because no Satan you can't do that. Time out chair again.
I feel like this is Luci's polite way of saying..."I ain't got the time nor patience for this foolishness"
Beel. LMAO really now? (this was toward Beleth going first and Belphie was like "I ain't" and went to sleep.) Bael was like.....o k.
He's so worried, let me give him kisses for being a sweetie.
NABE DOG FORM CAMEO (gives him treats and scritches)
AYo??????? We just gon' fap in front of everyone present? ASMO ??
Leviathan was ready to beat his ass like
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/e60be504d7a27e9bece51664156d5804/a2527e374d453af7-e5/s400x600/9da6142c6d2b446c1255c438c1e2f4175e9854df.webp)
Like srsly he was done at this point lmaooooo
😭MY BABY OMG
I'm sorry Levi has been irritated this entire event and I'm crying because it's either Beel or Asmodeus annoying the fuck out of him. 💀
They were so mean 😭 like I know they were just joking but this man came back battered and torn being called a rag by Asmo and now they're calling him a clumsy cat. It's okay Beleth com'mere and and I'll give you hugs and smooches. (He seems to not be too graceful as a big kitty and that's okay)
Tryna capitalize on strange self opening doors, okay Mammon
Bye, taking a nap here.
I know you fine as fuck, wait who said that? I'm supposed to be napping
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/d5d9244eb2d52660545cb8a1eb1b6870/a2527e374d453af7-5d/s540x810/835e326dc926d9be89fad87396f080f2ff37114b.jpg)
what do you mean, what????
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/2a351c74fd33445ac1cff85ee44c14a0/a2527e374d453af7-54/s540x810/cd5f5fe12d9366df3426c204b161aafc6cf01b09.jpg)
ok.
Pretty much. LOL
And just because there's room to throw this in....
He really said, "you goin' fam." and went back to sleep.
Classic Leviathan roasting.
LIKE ya'll there's so much interactions between the Kings and their nobles in this event, it's really nice to see them acting in their natural state without MC around even if they are simply just in a quarantine room jackin' off to the thoughts of Minhyeok.
Since Beel boldly just went up in Middle Realm and asked for the medicine directly I wonder how that's gonna work out for him...I can't imagine too well since he's...ya know himself lmao
#whb#what in hell is bad#whb kings#whb nobles#whb event#whb screenshots#jazewhbreacts🖤#asmo just whipping it out under the table to jack off to levi's angry face is on brand for him and wild#the crazier asmo is the more i find myself wanting to experience that#this is a trap#lmaooo sorry about these tags ya'll
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Primarchs + Daughters (3)
I wanna start by apologizing for taking this long in writing the last part of this train-wreck I decided to start because I came down with a bad case of the snots and didn't have the motivation to write until the vitamin c and antiflu-des kicked in. So far I'm good and just waiting for my vacations. The wonders of working now in the school system is that now u get vacations more often, yay!
Anyway, here ya go! The last one!
Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3
Magnus The Red
Honestly, I like Magnus. He is the kind of tragic man that gets a woman swooning. Make him a girl dad and you’ll be knocking heads down. I’ll be going at this with the possibility that any child that this guy sires will pop out as a psyker (the possibility is high if those swimmers managed to get the reader knocked up, tbf) so here we go. Let’s see… despite all the past mistakes during the heresy, we are talking about a Primarch that, while still kinda inhuman in many aspects, was very welcoming and showed quite the approachable disposition to anyone that had a curious mind. With that in mind, this mf would encourage his little girl to always ask him anything to stimulate her hunger for knowledge. Have you been around a child that is in the stages of the ‘Why’s’? Magnus will make it worse by always asking his daughter if she wants to know about a certain topic, going in an endless cycle of ramblings because there’s nothing that will make this man happier than to feed his precious girl endless amounts of information. Even when he spoils his child like the rightful princess that she is, he’ll still be strict about her behavior and tuition; being well aware that, to the outside world, she’ll be expected to act and speak in a certain proper way. Now, the tricky part about him when it comes to teaching his little girl how to control her psyker abilities. We all know that, when still with good intentions, Magnus was too damn arrogant when dealing with the fuckery of the Warp with little to no caution when he had already been warned about it. It didn’t matter that much when it was only him and his Legion dealing with it, but his baby girl on the other hand… ho boy, the good ol’ saying “do as I say, not as I do” could easily fit here. The Primarch more than likely will hammer the strict rule to his daughter that no psyker power usage unless he’s there to supervise and help her. HE is a demigod, the son of the Mighty Emperor of Mankind; in his perspective, he knows how to ignore (at least he thinks so) the poisonous whispers of the aether. Unless his child becomes of-age and has a much better grip over her abilities, MAYBE he’ll allow her to do as she wishes. Of course, only when she is residing at Prospero and very away from some of her uncles.
Horus Lupercal
The favorite golden boy of the Emperor himself! With how charismatic this man is, one can get an idea that he’ll be an incredible dad… and you would be right, but there are also little aspects that make this guy a whole new spectrum of his own. Remember that I mentioned once that Fulgrim would try and raise his daughter in a manner that she'll follow the exact path he’ll set for her? It’s kind of the same thing here, but Horus does it in such a subtle and gentle way that it’s hard to even call it gaslight. He’s just too damn charming that his own baby girl does as he says without questioning him because, to this poor child, her papa can’t do any bad in her eyes… and this man eats it all up. They feed each other their mutual hunger for their admiration and it’s amazing nothing too bad comes out of it. Probably some unhealthy dependent behavior if the issue isn’t nipped properly when she gets older, but overall, Horus’ little princess would never wish for anything. Just as much as the Primarch asks for his daughter to do as he says, he isn’t too tyrannical to force her to undergo a harsh training and he’ll be more pressed for the girl to become more like a politician or anything that doesn’t put her in the line of danger because, after all is said and done, the demigod still loves and cherish his little girl. Her precious miracle. While many may think that Horus would try and manipulate his daughter to do as he says, yall need to be aware that (in this guy’s case) he doesn’t even realize that he’s using too much Nat20 Charisma over his little girl and genuinely thinks that it’s normal for children to blindly obey their fathers and that mostly comes from his warped perception of parenthood that he learned from Big E. Just like with the Legions of Sanguinius, Leman and Guilliman, the Luna Wolves Legion would adore the little lady to the point of being a bit overbearing. They see her as another extension of their Primarch, very different from how they are created as astartes, and that simply leaves them all both intrigued and amazed. I’ll be merciful with yall and avoid touching the landmine of angst that the Heresy would be because this one got a bit long and we gotta jump to the next mf. Next!
Lorgar Aurelian
Ho, fucking hell… So, first off, this is a walking drama. Period. I can defend Lorgar about certain aspects that were out of his complete control but at the end of the day, he is plenty of guilty from some of the actions that lead to the dry-fuck that the heresy was. But we’re here to judge this bastard by papa points and not his war crimes (if that were the case, I would never end this chuckle-fuck post), so let’s fucking go. Despite what we all imagine, Lorgar is quite decent at being a good father. He’ll still try to force his child into a religious path, but since he already worships his SO as a goddess, his little girl is nothing but his absolute treasure so I don’t see him being more forceful than necessary with her. Any little doodle and gibberish done by his precious girl will be hanged nearby to where Lorgar works to keep close and be constantly reminded of his family. Honestly, of all the Primarchs, this guy is the sappiest one and I can’t help but feel kinda bad when thinking about the heresy outcome. He genuinely loves hanging with his little girl, encouraging her in any craft that may make her happy. Their bonding time is spent with Lorgar reading small tales that his daughter messily writes, wishing to see if her father would approve of her writing but jokes on her because hell would freeze first before this man ever says anything that would upset his baby girl. Unless he’s at a long campaign, nothing would stop this guy to be the one to tuck and kiss goodnight to his princess, for he needs to make sure that she is safe and sound at their palace along with her mother. If anything, this man tetters in the thin line of being quite overbearing, but he sometimes manages to reel himself back by sheer miracle. Where most of his brother would try to keep their budding family away and hidden, Lorgar would show off his daughter to the high heavens and back because, to him, the birth of his little girl is nothing but a gift given by his father, the God-Emperor himself, so why should he keep her away from the light of her grandfather too? Like many others have proposed, I like the idea of the Emperor taking the daughter and SO of Lorgar during the burning of Monarchia, effectively driving my man to his last restrain. Like many of the traitor Primarchs, this girl has no happy ending. She’ll probably be shunned and sneered at for the actions of her father while she’s kept trapped in the golden walls of the Imperial Palace at Terra, unable to ever go home because her grandfather had decided that he actually wished to be a parental figure for her. Ironic how that sounded worse.
Vulkan
Ah man, this one is just self explanatory. This big guy is the magazine example of a dedicated father. He was already one of the few Primarchs that could and loved being around kids, even if his size made it quite hard to maneuver around them. Having a daughter only makes this man even more tender. If any of the Salamanders ask their Primarch how his SO and daughter are doing, no force in the universe will stop this man happily showing the new doodle his precious gem did for him or telling them how his princess managed to read a whole sentence that day without a stutter. This guy just sPILLS love whenever he thinks about the little girl that he helped to create. If it were for him, Vulkan would prefer for his precious gem to dedicate herself to anything that has NOTHING to do with the Imperium. He wants her to be happy and safe no matter what, but he’s well aware that his daughter is her own person and that she’ll eventually make her own decisions without his input. Just like Khan, Vulkan will be quite the loving father (the most expressive of them all) but he’ll not be shy about having to be harsh when needed. No spoiled brats will be raised by him. I love to imagine that this little girl has an entire chest full of the little trinkets that her ‘Big Bros’ and her father gifts her: jewelry, toys, decorations, etc. This precious child is probably the happiest in the universe. There’s a chance that, as she grows, she would ask her father to teach her how to work in the art of smithy not only because she admires the Primarch, but because the little girl genuinely grew interested in the arts of working the metal over the fire. Yall, this one is just too sweet I am dying!!
Corvus Corax
Now, this man is one of the many that are hard to read for me but I am a slave of the masses and I must fulfill my fate so here comes nothing. This fun fella is quite the contradiction when it comes to parenthood since his own doubtfulness and depressing disposition clash terribly with the love and protectiveness he suddenly feels when seeing his daughter for the first time. The one thing that doesn’t change at all is his ever present determination to do his best to fulfill his role as both Primarch and new father. It sounds so incredibly inspiring and nice when you put it at first like that, but Corvus is the kind of guy that would look at his child crying and, unable to understand what she wants, he carries her around until he finds his SO for help because he’s just so fucking LOST, clueless, of what entails properly caring for a baby. Of course that only happens during the first months of the little girl having been born, because Corvus, my good man, is anything but lazy and dumb. He’ll wish to be involved mostly to ease his SO responsibilities regarding their precious child and because he is genuinely curious about the sweet little thing he helped to create. To him, the whole thing of raising his baby girl is both fascinating and scary and to be fair, his reactions regarding fatherhood are probably the most humane in that regard. I eventually can see my man being quite good at calming his little princess down thanks to his capacity at reading her emotions like the palm of his hand. These two would rarely need words to communicate between each other, sometimes making their staring off quite unnerving to the outsiders eyes. With how sensible this guy is, it's easy for Corvus to convey (unorthodoxly) his love to his daughter and like most of his brothers would do, he usually spoils her to the best of his capacities but tries his best to not make a brat out of her too. Hide and Seek are their favorite game and a good way to train his little girl in the arts of slipping through the enemies with the help of the shadows, making their games a whole new level of skill which gets even more interesting when any astartes asks to participate. I feel it’s kind of sad that this precious girl was quite close to her father with how much he liked to be involved in her raising, so when he disappeared through the Warp she felt the loss of her father the same way one loses a limb.
Alpharius/Omegon
This one feels more like a fever dream fueled by quetiapine because, to any little girl born from either twin, the WHOLE Alpha Legion are her papa. Just like the SO of those two lunatics, it would take time for their daughter to start understanding and pinpointing the differences between astartes, Alpharius and Omegon respectively. Just… jfc. Like, imagine this precious little thing walking and playing around and a group of Alpha Legion astartes pass by and she simply says “Hi, papa!” To. Each. One. Of. Them. Alpharius and Omegon take it as a funny little gag between them and an excellent way to ensure that their daughter never feels neglected but the SO isn’t amused about it.
There we go. Dump whatever fun facts yall wanna add too. I don't mind <333
#warhammer 40k#warhammer 40000#wh40k#fanfic#primarchs as girl dads#magnus the red#lorgar aurelian#horus lupercal#corvus corax#alpharius omegon#vulkan#headcanon#my writing
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His princess
macaque x soft cute reader
contains:fluff,unedited
masterlist
It was a normal morning at pigsys noodles.Mk doing his job(even though he’s really not).Mei on her phone totally not distracting Mk with puppy videos.Tang eating noodles and Pigsy slowly ticking away to blowing up at Mk.There’s no crime out,no training with the Monkey King,and no evil overlords trying to take over.
So far everyone is minding their own business.Well at least till the restaurants door opened.The bell ringing alerts everyone that a customer has entered.Pigsy the restaurant owner spoke up in a delighted tone. “Welcome in what can i get started for you!”
“O-oh w-well umm”You stutter out in flushed embarrassment. “I really don’t know, m-my boyfriend recommended this place.I’m kinda new here.Well not new but i don’t go out much so i didn’t really knew this place existed and uhmmh sorry i’m rambling”you muttered out the last bit while lowering your head.While fiddling with your bag that’s in your hand.
Anybody can tell that your misplaced.Tang spoke up breaking the anxious bubble around you “If your new i would suggest going for a large bowl of ‘Pigsy’s zha jiang noodle soup’ it’s his best seller,i would know.”You eyes lit up before nodding at the suggestion.Pigsy starts to make you noodles but not without insulting tang’s ability to not pay under his breath.
You attention was soon dragged by the two young adults waving you over towards them.you looked behind you at pigsy making your food and decided he’ll be awhile.You head over to the table there huddled at and sit down smoothing out your light purple frilly dress.
“Soo where’d you come from,you’d did say you moved”Mei had asked in a dramatic questioning tone.
“oh um the city of lights.I actually met my boyfriend there oddly.”
“Oh we went there too!It was during the Ring of light festival”Mk exitedly spoke up.
“Really?!I heard the ring was stolen by some randos.Quite odd to be completely honest but i don’t really leave the house much.”you awkwardly giggled the last part bit paying to much attention to mei’s and mk’s grimiaces about the ring being took by them.
Mei quickly shook her head and leaned a bit closer to your face you inching back as she questioned “So how’d you meet you boyfriend if you don’t leave the house during the festivities?”
You blinked for a moment then blushed “Well actually i had heard som groaning pained noises behind my house.So i went out and there he was,but he was—”You paused for a moment trying to find the write words “injured?Well anyway i went to go help him buuuut…”you drifted off your sentence.
Mk and Mei invested in the story starting shaking your body while yelling a mix of “Tell us” or “What happened” Eventually Pigsy got red in the face and yelled out “oi Stop terrorizing my customers!!”Before turning back to make orders.
The young adults stopped shaking your body and sat in silence for a moment while you gathered yourself.Once you fully gathered yourself you continued on telling the story “Well it’s kinda embarrassing but he had kinda attacked me—”The two gasped dramatically, gaining a ugly glare from pigsy once more.
“i can’t believe this how could someone as shy as you date such a monster” Mk stated like you had just disappointed him.
mei decided to add on from the comment with a questioning “Did he kidnap you are you being held hostage sho-”
You frantically shook your head before yelping out “No i haven’t been kidnapped.Yes he did technically hurt me but he was startled beside a couple days later he came and apologized.So it wasn’t all bad”You blushed out the last part.Your mind starting to drift to the memory.
it didn’t last long seeing as Pigsy snapped you out of your daydream “Was this for here or togo”
“Oh to go.I have to get back before my boyfriend notices i’m missing.He can become quite the worry wort.”
Pigsy just nodded his head and started to pack up you food in the correct containers.He then set the bag on the counter.You hopped up from your seat and headed too the counter to collect your food.
Reaching into you small purse you pulled out money and handed it to Pigsy with a smile.
You headed to the door as you opened the door you turned your head and spoke up “Thanks for the suggestion with the food mr tang,and you pigsy for making it im sure it’s delicious.Bye mk and mei you were great company we should hang out again”and you were out the door.
“Hey how she’d know our names we didn’t tell her”Mei questioned
everyone paused for a moment looking at mei then the door before shrugging it off.
————————————☆————————
After sometime you made it to your home aka your boyfriends dojo.you dig into your purse to find the keys once you do you unlock the door and head inside.While removing the keys out the door you annoce you arrival home.You we’re greeted with silence looking up you scan the room.
you don’t see him any where.you questioned if he left to find you seeing as you did leave without notifying him.Heading into the kitchen you set the food down on the counter before checking your phone to see if you got any messages.While checking you suddenly fell through the ground only to appear into fuzzy arms.
You relax once you mad contact with his body.Macaque wrapped his arms around you while shoving his face into your shoulder.He start to muffle something out that you couldn’t comprehend.
“Eh?”you only got more muffling words thrown at you. “I don’t understand you when you do that.”you giggled out.He gave a glare before moving his face off of you and sighed out on you neck making you skirm.
“You left without telling me princess.”he said in a monotone way.You moved you head back a bit to look at his annoyed face.You giggled a bit at how much he acts more like a cat than a monkey.Pulling you body out of his hold you face him to give him a hug.
“I just wanted to get you food before you woke up.”You started while you let go once more to go head to the kitchen.He was following a few paces back.He leaded against the door way while you got the food out of the bags. “I even met some of your friends that you talked about!”you gleefully cheered out.
“Not really friends…more like ideas aligned up”he said with a pointed look.You just rolled your eyes at his stubbornness.
Macaque’s ears started to twitch suddenly hearing noise in front of his dojo.He glanced at you before quietly leaving you to your devices for a moment.
As he got to the front door he opened it before the person could knock.In fell a mk and mei while the rest of the gang was just standing there even wukong oddly enough.He looked at everyone before landing on pigsy with a bag probably filled with food.
“ummm did y’all need something?”
Mk and mei popped up scrabble to fix their disheveled appearance.Mk spoke up first “Well we haven’t hung out in awhile since the whole lady bone demon incident so-”
“so we decided to check up on our pale”mei interrupted mk while slowly peeking her way into the house.She was grabbed by Macaque’s tail and put out.
“Look that nice and all but i really don’t have my house ready for guest.”
wukong scoffed out a of course while rolling his eyes.Before macaque could counter back he could hear you calling out his name.Mk noticed his poster stiffen.He eyed him for a moment before gasping out dramatically “You have someone over how scandalous!!” This cause mei to gasp too and the others giving an odd look at mk’s accusations.
“Pfft!I highly doubt it bud.Who’d want to be with Mr.emo over there?!”Wukong announced out loud.
“Mac?”everyone perked up hearing a feminine voice.You squeezed past mac looking to see his friends at the restaurant with additional friends too.Your eyes gleamed up “Eek! You didn’t tell me we had guest!!Please come in,oh lemme take those bags i’ll get more plates and drinks out for us!”You quickly grabbed the bag and headed in despite the protest of your boyfriend.
“Just come in I guess”Mac sighed out.The crew followed you in noticing how the dojo was redecorated with cutesy stuff here and there.
The gang sat at the table you had quickly set up in the living room with video games set up too.After a moment they snapped out of shock.
“Wait she’s your girlfriend?!”Wukong whisper yelled out.
“Yeah,problem?”Mac questioned sarcastically.
“Yes actually how did you a no good villain manage to get her a cute sweet princess for a girlfriend!”he frantically pointed out.
Mac rolled his eye before you suddenly came in with food and drinks.Setting them on the table then you sat next to macaques kinda oblivious to the looks that were thrown towards the too.
“So this is how you know us.”Mei pointed out before messing with the video game you layed.You nodded your head before eating the noodles provided.
After some time everyone settled down to eating,talking,or messing with the game.But all around it was a peaceful atmosphere with the occasional banter between Mac and Wukong.
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New Voice Messages (Part Three)
Lucifer
"Hey. I know it's late and you're probably asleep, so you don't have to respond to this right away. I should be asleep, but I keep tossing and turning whenever I try, so I gave up on that hours ago. I'm currently sitting on the rooftop, looking up at the night sky. Well, and recording this message, but that's self-explanatory, I feel. *sighs* Don't mind my rambling. I'm both incredibly tired and slightly tipsy. I finally got around to trying the bottle of Demonus that Diavolo gave us as a housewarming gift, and it's pretty decent. I had a couple glasses of it before coming up here, thinking that it'd help put me to sleep. Obviously, it hasn't, but it was worth trying, I suppose. I at least feel like I can respond to your note without choking on my words or banging my head in frustration. *briefly pauses* Given the way you signed off on it, I'm going to assume that you trust me enough to not abuse your old name. That's also why I'm outside. Less likely to be overheard using it by my brothers. If that's okay with you. If it's not, feel free to tell me off for it the next time we meet. So, MC. *pauses again before lightly singing MC's name* Have I ever told you it's a pretty name? Saying it is comforting somehow. *clears his throat* Sorry. Like I said, I'm a bit drunk."
"Feeling more in control now. Might still ramble a bit, but hopefully not as much as before. *takes a deep breath* The first time I read your note, I ended up crying. Not because you said something wrong, but because it was...sweet? Is that the word I'm looking for? *briefly pauses as a gust of wind gets picked up on the mic* It'll have to do for now, I guess. Anyway...it's interesting how you and Diavolo said more or less the same thing, and yet I'm more inclined to listen to you than I am to him. Perhaps it's the difference in tone? I could definitely tell that he was getting frustrated with me towards the end of our phone call. I know there's a part of him that sees me as a really shiny toy, one that he's quite territorial over. If I were to leave his side, he'd throw a massive fit, I'd imagine, and he might start a war over it. Which is silly. I'm not worth fighting over. *pauses* And yet everyone seems to for some reason. It's like I cause people to lose their minds. I don't know if it's due to the amount of titles and prestige I've had or my physical appearance or something else entirely, but they seem to all go into hysteria after spending any significant amount of time with me. Except for you, MC. You don't care about Lucifer Morningstar, former Lightbringer, Avatar of Pride, yadda yadda yadda. You simply see me as me, if that makes sense. You want to make sure that I'm okay, and you don't expect anything in return. It's a way of repaying back the kindness bestowed upon you in your situation, I suppose. And it'd be cruel of me to ignore all of that and still plunge to my death. So I'm staying. *pauses* You're right. This does feel weird. You better make good on your promise, MC, or I may end up changing my mind again. *chuckles* Don't take that last part too seriously. I'm merely messing with you a bit."
"You know, I wonder what my brothers are thinking about this...offer being made to us. I already know Mammon and Beel would stay, and Belphie's going to do whatever Beel does, but I'm not sure about Levi and Asmo. I mean, you were there when Asmo was yelling at me about leaving the Celestial Realm. Do you think he's eagerly packing his bags as we speak, or--"
A Few Hours Later
"Sorry about the abrupt ending of my last message. Mammon caught me on the rooftop. We ended up talking for a while. *pauses* The two of us have an interesting relationship. Kinda similar to the one I have with Satan. Mammon's sort of my brother and sort of my son, except he didn't spring out of me like Satan did. He's the first angel I felt the need to protect. Everyone else was prepared to throw him away, even though he was merely a child. I couldn't sit back and let them treat him like that, especially not after I held him in my arms as he was crying. He was around the Chihuahua's age when that happened. *clears his throat* I apologize. I know you don't like me calling Luke a chihuahua. I really am trying not to. *pauses* So yeah. Satan's technically the third oldest, since he came into existence in my mind shortly after I took Mammon under my wing. Levi came into the picture when Mammon was a teenager, and the others when he was just becoming a fully-grown angel. *pauses again* It was actually Mammon that insisted that we take care of them, and he was so earnest about it that I couldn't say no. I mean, the fact that he was willing to do for others what I've done for him...I was quite proud of him. Still am, even though he insists on putting on a persona these days. I know deep down, he still cares about everyone. *pauses yet again* Is it weird that I feel comfortable sharing all of this with you, MC? It might be the alcohol still affecting me, but somehow I don't think it is. I...I think I've come to trust you. Completely. I haven't even gotten there with Diavolo yet, and I've known him a lot longer. *chuckles* You truly are special, little lamb. *silence* Shit. That wasn't supposed to be said out loud. I better go before I start calling you more silly nicknames. Good night, MC."
Taglist: @lost-in-time-wanderer, @fuzztacular, @dianedancer18, @sweetbrier2908, @flare-love, @completelyshatteredbrokenmschf, @thunderlightning351, @l3v1chan, @anxious-chick, @5mary5, @expressionless-fr, @tenkobitch, @interconnectedmatrix
#obey me shall we date#obey me nightbringer#obey me lucifer#obey me mc#in the morning solomon catches mc giggling multiple times as they listen to all of lucifer's messages in their entirety#also mc finds a way to take lucifer's phone and changes their contact name on there to “little lamb” with a heart emoji next to it#both to tease him and to assure him that they're cool with the nickname
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need to know ab tomorrow comes today please
🎵Song #33 Tomorrow Comes Today by Gorillaz 🎵[Full playlist]
ABSOLUTELY!! Thanks for asking, Gorillaz and Daft Punk really shaped my childhood with their music (Gorillaz 2001, Demon Days, Discovery, Human After All); that's why I had to include their music 🫶💚
So this is very late in the playlist so let me catch you up to speed on the playlist story:
Okay great, now you're all caught up!
So Metal Overlord came into the picture (Song #30-31) and got his ass beat, naturally (Song #32 The Line) and now we're here in the aftermath of the battle. Things are looking pretty bleak, but still open enough to not be completely hopeless. It's kinda hard to talk about this song without also rambling about the other one's before and after it so I'm gonna do it along with the lyrics since they're pretty short anyway.
LYRICAL BREAK DOWN BELOW 👇
Everybody's here with me Got no camera to see
Very much a reference to #32 The Line's lyric: "Please don't let them see me" which is like ...oops! This is the big boss battle my guy, like in the end of Sonic Hereo's - literally everyone is here to see this shit!! That must be so embarrassing for you 🫤 ooooh well, that's what happens when you have a public mental breakdown I guess. The camera I think could also literally be his screen eyes thing, maybe that got smashed in during the fight. Bc I love pain 💔
Don't think I'm all in this world The camera won't let me go The verdict doesn't love our soul The digital won't let me go
Like the whole playlist has been toying with: strings, wires, entrapment, the machine is inescapable. Metal is a robot so of course the digital won't let him go. It's literally a part of who he is. You cannot change this Puppet boy, I'm sorry baby.
Yeah, yeah, yeah, I'll pay (yeah, yeah)
The defeated attitude!! Makes me so depressed. Metal Overlord lost the big battle and now he's just like yea okay... I give up, you won. I'll pay for everything, the damaged I caused and all that shit. I don't care anymore. This is like his lowest point, so the way this is phrased and sung is just so perfectly sad to me, I love to suffer 💔💔
When tomorrow, tomorrow comes today
☝️HOLD ON! The talk about the future is still like, a CRUMB of there still being hope. You wouldn't talk about a tomorrow if you didn't think there was one- would you? At least, I interpret the line when tomorrow comes today as in: it hasn't happened yet.
Stereo, I want it on It's taken me far too long
LET ME GET META HERE FOR A SECOND- it could have been pretty easy to end the whole playlist here and leave on a very bittersweet/open ended note of Metal Overlord being defeated and then we just don't know what happens from there. But leaving the stereo on? Yea there are literally two songs left here on the list. So leaving the stereo on to play these last two songs changes the vibes of the story and the characters trajectory A LOT ACTUALLY.
The taken me far too long also perfectly reflects the last two songs that are yet to come; Song #34 Too Long (lmao) and then #35 Love Like You, notably the line: "When I see the way you look / Shaken by how long it took". But I shouldn't go too much into that one as I have an ask for that one to break down so I'll go over all those details at a later time teehee 🩷
Don't think I'm all in this world I don't think I'll be here too long I don't think I'll be here too long I don't think I'll be here too long
Oh lord, oh no- the brain fog is hitting him, the disassociation is taking over. That is one of those aspects I've also tried eluding too in previous songs on the list like, especially as a cue for when the murder robot programming has kicked in. Listing examples from the top of my head we have: #11 Kitchen Fork: "Who's that kid who wakes each night / Takes me on these wretched rides?" (I could list every single lyric of that song, please ask me about this song)
#24 Blur "Can't remember what I did last night / Maybe I shouldn't have given in / But I just couldn't fight" #27 Magnum Bullets: "My conscience paralyzed / Against the rising tide / Of haunting memories that drown a wasted life"
Yeah, yeah, yeah, I'll pay When tomorrow, tomorrow comes today
We have reached the end, I have nothing new to say about the lyrics. But I think the songs flows pretty well into the song after that, Too Long. Like The Line has a drum beat that kinda comes and goes, it is very ethereal sounding more reliant on piano to keep the pulse, then Tomorrow Comes Today has a darker sound and grounded beat that goes throughout the song and then we have Too Long which got an even steadier drum machine and a slow build electric dance song. There is an evolution here... I hope people see/hear it and that I am not making shit up. I want to say my 10 years in Music education gives me some ethos here
I knew I wanted another Daft punk song but it took me too long (HAH) to decide on which one. I almost went with Something About Us and I LOVE that song, it is a perfect song for when you are dying and want to confess your love, or a forbidden love - enemies to lovers sorta stuff or what have you. But that was also when I had Rusty Cage by Soundgarden on the list bc I wanted a hopeful ending about Metal breaking free!! But I wasn't happy with how I could make it flow in the playlist so once that sound was out so was Something About Us and Too Loong sorta replaced them both but for different reasons. That's just how the cookie crumbles sometime. I'm happy with the choice tho, I love that song, idc if it's 10 minutes long it is going on my playlist that is already 2 hours long and you will LIKE IT! I could've ended the playlist at Too Long but I hated that it just faded at the end and didn't have "a real ending" so to speak so that's why Love Like You survived the cut, that song actually makes the transition to the 1st song sound rly good which I do pay attention to because I have this playlist on repeat like a madman.
Okay I think I'm done rambling about this, for now
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Honestly I really like your thoughts on Angeal and his flaws, and it sucks that most ppl and even SE want to sweep said flaws under the rug. Plus i can get why you dislike him as a person in-universe, his actions make everything worse for everyone including how he hurts and dimisses Genesis despite being childhood friends (and having a whole fandom excusing his bad actions while blaming your fav for daring to exist is Obnoxius at the bare minimun).
In any case, people keep asking for complicated morally gray stories yet can't handle the angelic noble manly guy not really being a good guy and the odd mean redhead not really being a bad guy. And that's the whole point of Crisis Core isn't it? Going in with Shinra colored glasses and then seeing the illusion crumble and get crushed beneath the weight of its sins, and how you need to free yourself of its lies least it drags you down with it.
Anyways, apologies if my ramble got too long, the point is that you get him aka he sucks and owes the mother of apologies to Zack, Gen n Seph
Thank you so much!
I honestly find Angeal to be a super compelling character—his story is a tragedy from the very start, not just because of how he was made but because of how he was raised, because of who he is and how he interfaces with the world around him.
They actually nailed it in First SOLDIER, which was a surprise to me after how he's been handled in the EC version of Crisis Core; he's arrogant, sanctimonious, self-important, and genuinely believes that he's right every step of the way because that's how he was brought up. You can see the pressure he had to prove himself to be as good as his mother presumably told him he was, and how it's shaped him into this person. You can also kinda see how people without a lot of personal interactions with him could end up viewing him as a self-motivated go-getter with a heart of gold, but it's just as clear that even a cursory focus on his actual behavior that he's terribly flawed in very specific ways even as a teenager, and those flaws only deepen with time. He doesn't have the gruff-voiced mystique used to cover up his demeaning treatment of others in the future, the facade is less comprehensive at this point than it will be by the time Zack comes into the picture, but you can see how he's building it up, and it's super interesting.
I don't like Angeal as a person, but I find him so compelling as a character—this is someone who was brought up by a woman whose entire history is a mass of grey to black morality without him knowing it, and rather than ever question that maybe this isn't how the world works, he decided that the entire world was wrong. That's what ends up breaking him in the end, and it's really fucking sad. If Gillian had been different, I think he'd be a much more pleasant character to interact with, but I honestly really like the juxtaposition between his abrasive self-righteousness and his perfect honorable good boy presentation.
My major issue honestly comes from fandom refusing to admit that his behavior is anything but what he insists it is. He's honestly kind of a bully, but he's "nice" and he says that he's honorable, so very few people ever want to discuss it. The standard claim is that the writing in CC is just bad and that's why he seems so inconsistent, but the same "inconsistency" presents in EC, nine years prior to his death in Modeoheim, eight years prior to Genesis defecting in Wutai. This "inconsistency" is consistent in how he's written, whether in CC or EC or even DFFOO.
It's not inconsistency, it's hypocrisy. He's a hypocrite, that's part of his character. Honor and responsibility and nobility are what he says they are, and only what he says they are, and if he behaves in any way to the contrary, it's still good because he did it and he can't be anything else. It's really interesting to see this sort of personality portrayed so well, and I wish more people were willing to explore it! This is part of what makes him so compelling! The tragedy of his own self-loathing being what tore his whole world apart! Amazing. Brilliant. I love that. He's terrible and it's great.
#angeal critical#fandom ramble#nashi has an opinion#not tagging this with the character!#or the fandom!#I learned my lesson last time folks told me to kill myself for talking about his actual canon behavior
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