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incognit0slut · 6 months ago

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Much Ado About Nothing (Act II, Scene I: The Suspicious Scheme)

The three times you sense something strange when everyone pairs you with Spencer, and the one time you understand why.

Part warning: Definitely inaccuracy in autopsy procedures and Spencer’s educational background, it’s hard writing a genius Words: 5.6k (not proofread, I’ll do it when I have the time so please excuse me if you see any mistakes) A/n: I tried to make this part shorter but I gave up. I hope you don’t mind reading more😌

SERIES MASTERLIST | MAIN MASTERLIST

I. The Forced Partner

There was usually a system when Hotch paired the team up, a method to his leadership that balanced skills and personalities to get the job done efficiently. But as Spencer and you were directed to the autopsy room together, you couldn’t help but wonder if Hotch was pushing his luck—or preferably yours.

It was weird. Two weeks had gone by since the last case where he had to witness you both sparring, and you would’ve thought he’d keep you apart. Yet here you were, together again, stepping into the cold, sterile room.

The faint smell of antiseptic filled the air as you pulled on your gloves, the latex snapping against your wrists. A woman in blue scrubs, her hair pulled back into a tight bun, turned to greet you and Spencer. She extended a hand.

“I’m Dr. Nina Patel, I’ll be overseeing the autopsy today. You must be from the BAU.”

You nodded, shaking her hand firmly.

“Agent Y/N Y/L/N, and this is Dr. Spencer Reid,” you introduced, gesturing towards Spencer, who offered a brief nod and a tight lip smile in greeting. Dr. Patel returned the gesture and motioned for you both to approach the table.

“Our Jane Doe was found early this morning in an alleyway downtown," she explained, pulling back the sheet to reveal a woman appearing in her late thirties. "There are no apparent injuries, and no ID was found with her.”

Spencer stepped closer. "Any indication of the time of death?"

"Preliminary estimates put the time of death at approximately eight hours before she was found."

You watched as she started pointing to various parts of the body.

"She was also found with her clothes in perfect condition. It’s possible she was placed there post-mortem."

Spencer raised an eyebrow. "Could suggest transportation from another location.”

You moved to the head of the table, examining Jane Doe's hands and nails. "No defensive wounds," you added. "She didn't fight back, or more likely, wasn't conscious during her final moments."

Dr. Patel nodded as she considered your observations. “It’s plausible that a strong sedative was used, which would leave minimal to no struggle marks. We’re running some tests as we speak.”

Spencer chimed in quickly after that. “The Unsub might have used succinylcholine, or even benzodiazepines,” he suggested. Then, turning toward you with a condescending tone as if simplifying it for your benefit, he added, “They’d metabolize quickly and would require a toxicology screen to detect definitively.”

You rolled your eyes.

“That’s impressive, Dr. Reid,” Dr. Patel remarked, her eyes lingering on him a moment longer than seemed strictly professional. You narrowed your eyes at her. “Did you study pharmacology formally, or is this a passion of yours?”

“I actually did a bit of formal study during my Ph.D. programs.”

“Oh, really? What did you study?”

“Chemistry and Engineering. Pharmacology intersects quite a bit with those fields, especially when looking at biochemical reactions.”

Dr. Patel seemed genuinely impressed. “That’s quite a formidable educational background. No wonder you’re so thorough with your analyses.”

You could feel a knot tightening in your stomach. Her admiration was professional, sure, but the way her eyes softened when she looked at him, the way her voice dipped just so—it was a tone you recognized all too well.

She was flirting with him.

You watched them, your gaze sharp and assessing. Although it wasn’t like Spencer to notice her advances; he was smart, yes, but his brilliance often left him oblivious to the layers of personal interaction that didn’t involve textbooks or theories. And Dr. Patel, with her easy smile and obvious interest, seemed to have her focus on him rather than the body lying between you.

You cleared your throat, louder than necessary.

“Can we continue?”

Dr. Patel seemed to catch your eye, her expression shifting back to professional as she nodded. “Of course.”

She resumed her explanation, detailing the various findings and pointing out subtle indicators on the body that might have otherwise gone unnoticed. Spencer listened intently, his gaze shifting between Dr. Patel and you, noticing the subtle tension in the room, but didn’t comment.

It wasn’t until you had all the information you needed—and after you caught one last flirtatious look from Dr. Patel directed at him—that Spencer finally spoke up.

“She seems nice,” he remarked as you both stepped outside the building, heading toward the parking lot.

You shrugged. “Sure, if you say so.”

Spencer glanced at you, a hint of curiosity in his eyes. “Am I missing something?”

You looked over at him, debating whether to explain, before you finally sighed.

“It’s just... she seemed a bit more interested in you than the case,” you said, trying to keep your tone light but failing to hide your slight irritation.

And then he noticed it. The subtle tension in your voice, the way you avoided his gaze, the underlying frustration—it clicked. “Wait, are you... jealous?”

“No, I’m not!” You replied quickly, then softer, “I’m not.”

“You sound like it.”

You scoffed. “No, I sound like a friend trying to remind you that we have a case to focus on.”

“Oh, so now we’re friends?”

“I meant that in the broadest, most professional sense of the word.”

“Right,” Spencer replied sarcastically. “I didn’t realize jealousy was part of professional behavior.”

“I wasn’t jealous,” you snapped. “Stop making it into something it’s not.”

“Sure.”

“Reid.”

“Y/L/N,” he shot back in the same flat tone.

Dear God, why was he so infuriating? How he had this ability, this perfectly annoying talent to get under your skin without seeming to try was beyond you. You both stared at each other for a while, until finally, you broke the silence with an exasperated sigh.

“Let’s just go,” you muttered, brushing past him.

You walked a few steps ahead, trying to shake off his words. It was absurd. The very idea was ridiculous when you were focused on the case, on solving the mystery—nothing more.

You were not jealous.

II. The Unavoidable Flight

“I’m telling you, she was definitely flirting with him,” you said, your voice a mix of disbelief and annoyance as you and Penelope made your way toward the plane. “It was so obvious, the way she kept looking at him, the tone of her voice. I mean, does professional decorum mean nothing anymore?”

“Why are you acting so surprised? Wonder Boy is actually quite the catch,” Penelope responded. “He’s not my type, but he clearly has admirers.”

Your eyes involuntarily drifted toward the man in question, who was walking a few paces behind, engaged in conversation with JJ. He was casually gripping the strap of his satchel bag, laughing at something JJ had just said. You narrowed your eyes.

“Well, I don’t understand what they see in him.”

“It might be that genius brain of his—totally irresistible to some.”

“It’s annoying, is what it is,” you grumbled, quickening your pace as the plane came into view.

Penelope responded with a sly grin. “You know what you sound like?”

“What?”

“Like someone who’s maybe a little jealous.”

You frowned, hating how she was the second person to conclude your irritation with something else. “Absolutely not.”

“Oh, come on. You seem unusually focused on how others interact with him.”

“I’m focused on maintaining a professional work environment,” you defended, trying to keep your voice even as you approached the steps of the plane. “Not about… whatever you’re implying.”

“Fine. If Dr. Patel makes her move and actually calls him, what would you do?”

Your eyes widened. “What? Who did you hear that from? Did he tell you? When did she call him?”

“Hypothetically, oh my god,” Penelope laughed, stepping onto the plane as you followed, slightly flustered. “I’m just saying, hypothetically, if it happened, what would you do? How would you react?”

You paused at the entrance, processing her question. “I’d do nothing.”

“Nothing? Really?”

“Yes, I’d do nothing because I’m not jealous.”

“That’s what any jealous person would say.”

You narrowed your eyes at her as you walked past the entrance, and when you caught her making herself comfortable on the long couch by the front, you quickly made your way to the back of the plane.

“Hey! Where are you going?”

“To find a spot where my supposed jealousy isn’t your inflight entertainment,” you replied, your voice dripping with sarcasm.

“I knew you were jealous!”

“Supposed jealousy!”

Her laughter trailed after you, ringing down the narrow aisle as you navigated through the plane, bypassing Rossi, who was typing away on his phone, and Hotch, who sat across from him with his eyes closed, leaning back against his seat. You walked further down the aisle until you spotted an empty spot at the very back of the plane, looking very isolated and inviting.

It was perfect.

“Garcia! That’s my usual spot,” Spencer’s unmistakable voice echoed through the plane as you made yourself comfortable in your chair.

From the corner of your eye, you could see him standing over Penelope, a hand gesturing toward the seat while his other hand clutched his bag.

“But it’s so comfortable,” Penelope responded, settling deeper into the plush seat. “Come on, Reid, I don’t travel as much as you do. Let me have it.”

Spencer paused, his initial protest fading as he took in Penelope’s exaggerated comfort. “Where would I sit?”

“You can sit…”

You quickly closed your eyes. Don’t say it. Don’t say it. Don’t say it. Don’t–

“Over there! There’s an empty spot in front of Y/N.”

You were going to kill her.

You sank deeper into your chair, hoping to avoid any forced small talk or, worse, awkward silence with him. Maybe if you were lucky enough, he’d pick another chair—perhaps next to Hotch, or Rossi, or—

A cough interrupted your thoughts.

“I know you’re pretending to sleep.”

Reluctantly, you opened one eye, peeking at him.

"Mind if I sit here?"

For a moment, you considered ignoring him, but the look on his face told you he wasn’t going to let it go. You rolled your shoulders, giving up the pretense, and sat up straighter.

“Actually, yes, I do mind.”

He raised an eyebrow but lowered himself onto the seat anyway, clearly unfazed by your objection.

"Reid,” you warned him. “I’m serious.”

"I know you are.” His eyes briefly swept around the cabin as he settled into the seat across from you, placing his satchel bag on his lap. "But every other seat is taken. Unless you want me to stand in the aisle for the next few hours?"

You rolled your eyes, letting out a resigned sigh as you crossed your arms. "Fine, but I'm reserving the right to nap, and you're reserving the right to not disturb that nap."

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Why not?”

He leaned forward in his seat. “Do you know that you snore when you sleep?”

You gasped. “I do not!”

“You do. You sound like a little chainsaw.”

You gaped at him. The idea of a rough, grating noise being associated with you was almost laughable, and yet here he was, completely serious. You were unsure whether to be amused or offended.

“A chainsaw? That’s what you’re going with?”

“Well, considering the average chainsaw operates at around 90 decibels, I'd say it's an appropriate comparison."

“Don’t make me throw you off the plane.”

He shrugged, leaning back in his seat. “Just so you know, certain sleep positions can actually help reduce snoring. Maybe you should try—ouch!”

You nudged him with your foot, not hard enough to hurt but enough to make your point clear. He rubbed his leg and glanced up at you with a wry expression.

“Consider that your first and only warning,” you stated firmly before closing your eyes, signaling the end of the conversation.

“See, your position is all wrong, if you slightly elevate your—”

“Good night, Reid.”

There was suddenly a moment of silence, the kind that feels almost tangible, stretching out in the small space between you. Then, you heard it—a slight, barely audible chuckle.

You wondered if your mind was playing tricks on you, the sound so faint that it seemed it could easily be a figment of your imagination. But no, there it was again, a soft, amused sound that had you frowning even with your eyes closed.

“Good night, Y/N.”

Maybe you were already dreaming.

III. The Lock-in Incident

“Y/N,” JJ’s voice chimed from behind you while you were gathering a stack of folders on your desk. “Can you take these down to the filing room? Spencer’s already down there reorganizing some of the older case files.”

You eyed the thick folder in JJ’s hands. When there wasn’t an active case, the team often spent time organizing and maintaining the archives. As tedious as it was, it was a necessary task, and normally, you wouldn’t mind lending a hand.

But the sound of his name made you pause because working with him in a confined space seemed very much unappealing.

“Why are you asking me?”

“Aren’t you going there?” She asked, her gaze shifting to the folders in your hands.

Internally, you groaned. Yes, you were headed there, that had been the plan. But now that you knew Spencer was there, every step towards that cramped, paper-stuffed room felt like walking into a minefield.

“Maybe you should go down there instead.”

“I can’t,” she responded, already adding her folders to your pile. “I’ve got to finish my other reports before the end of the day.”

Your eyes glanced over to Derek’s desk across from you. “Morgan?”

He turned over a page in the file he was reading, not even looking up. “Sorry, Pretty Girl, I got my hands full with this case report.”

“Oh, come on.” You stormed over to him, desperation edging into your voice. “I’ll do you a favor—anything you want.”

Derek glanced up, finally giving you his attention, a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth.

“Anything I want?”

“Within reason.”

He chuckled, shaking his head. “Sorry, but I really can’t. This report’s due in an hour.”

Frustrated, you glanced over towards Emily’s desk, hoping for a backup, but groaned when you saw it was empty.

You finally sighed, feeling the weight of your options—or lack thereof—settle on your shoulders. You gathered the heavy folders in your arms, the paper edges digging slightly into your skin. It was just a few hours, you reasoned; you could manage Spencer. He could be insufferable, but you had your own ways of being equally annoying.

With a deep breath, you headed toward the filing room, mentally preparing yourself. He was already busy sorting through a pile of disorganized paperwork when you got there, his brow furrowed in concentration.

“I have more work for you,” you announced in a sing-song voice.

Spencer looked up, his eyes scanning the sight of the hefty folders in your arms. “Nope. They’re yours, not mine.”

You paused, leaning on the table filled with sorted files. “Are you sure you want me to do this by myself? Because, you know, I might just rearrange what you’ve already organized here. It would be a shame if all your hard work got… scrambled.”

“Don’t even think about it,” he quickly warned. “Hand them over. I’ll do it myself.”

You moved closer and placed the folders next to his neatly arranged stacks, deliberately nudging them just enough to seem accidental.

“Really?” he said, a hint of exasperation in his tone as he carefully realigned the folders you had nudged. “You know, we could actually get this done much faster if you’re not acting like a child.”

“Oh, please. Like you’re the mature one.”

“At least I’m trying to get the job done, not make it harder.”

“Maybe if you weren’t so uptight about every little detail, it wouldn’t be so hard,” you shot back, grabbing another stack of files to sort.

“I’m not uptight. I’m precise. There’s a difference.”

“Sure there is.”

Spencer opened his mouth to retort, but before he could get the words out, the sudden sound of the door clicking shut echoed through the cramped room. Both of you turned around simultaneously.

“Did that just…?” He began, stepping towards the door and trying the handle. It didn’t budge. He jiggled it again, more forcefully this time. “Great, it’s locked.”

“What?” You walked over, a sinking feeling in your stomach. “Who the hell locked it?”

“I don’t think anyone did. These old doors… they stick. It’s probably just jammed,” Spencer explained, though his voice carried a hint of doubt.

Yeah, right, you thought, your skepticism growing. Despite his logical explanation, you couldn't shake the feeling that this was more than just a coincidence. The timing was just too perfect, and you had a sneaking suspicion that someone might have been behind this.

But then the reality of the situation sank in. Your immediate concern shifted to the fact that you were trapped here, with him, until someone realized you were missing. The prospect was both frustrating and daunting.

“Look, let’s just keep working,” he suggested. “The sooner we finish, the sooner we can figure out how to get out of here.”

You nodded, though a part of you wanted to argue. “Fine. But if we’re still stuck here by the time we’re done, you’re explaining this to Hotch.”

“We’ll get out, don’t worry.”

“Let’s hope you’re right.” You picked up a folder from the pile, flipping it open to look over its contents. “How do I do this?”

“Sort them by case type first, then by date within each type.”

“So, this one would go under…?”

“Unsolved homicides,” Spencer replied, taking a quick peek at the document you held open. “And make sure it’s in chronological order with the others.”

You moved to the designated shelf, sliding the folder into its appropriate spot before returning to grab another. “Wait,” you opened the file, your eyes scanning the page. “I think this was my first case.”

You read through the document and nodded.

“Yes, look, it’s the one where the Unsub was targeting families with children,” you reminisced, your mind going back to the time when you were still new to the job. “That was such a hard case. Remember how I couldn’t stop crying? And how Hotch had to debrief me because I was still shaking even after we made the arrest?”

When you were met with silence, you looked up to see his back facing you, seeming too busy as he organized his files. You closed the document in your hands and walked back toward the shelf.

“Of course, you don’t remember,” you muttered under your breath. “Why would you even remember?”

A twinge of disappointment settled in your chest, even though you hated to admit it. It was stupid, really, to expect him to recall every little detail from the past, especially when it had to do with you. But just as you turned to grab another file, Spencer’s voice stopped you.

“October 19, 2011.”

You paused, turning slowly to face him, your brows furrowing in confusion. “What?”

“The date you started working here,” Spencer said, still focused on his task. “You wore a black blouse and the brightest shade of red on your lips.”

You blinked, trying to understand what he was getting at.

“The case was in St. Louis,” Spencer continued, now looking up to meet your gaze directly. “Your first field assignment. You told Hotch you were ready, but the case really got to your head.”

You found yourself at a loss for words, realizing what he was trying to do.

“You cried when you came back from talking with the victim’s family. You cried when the second victim was found. You cried when we finally caught the Unsub.”

You continued to stare at him, not knowing how to process his words.

“You also cried when I sat beside you on the plane.”

He remembered.

The realization struck you hard, almost like a physical blow. A part of you had convinced yourself that he barely noticed you, that any memory involving you was erased from his mind. But here he was, recalling not just any memory, but your first week when you joined the team, right down to the color of your lips.

“You…” The frown on your face deepened. “You remembered.”

There was a pause as he looked at you, his eyes carefully assessing your reaction. “It’s hard not to."

You held his gaze. Sometimes you wonder what would happen if you were still on good terms. Would you smile at him now? Would you tell him that, yes, you also remembered how he allowed you to lean on his shoulder during that flight back home, despite the awkwardness of your first meeting when it seemed he’d rather keep his distance?

You shook your head, looking away from him. It was wishful thinking. Letting yourself dwell on what could have been would only lead to another heartbreak. You had learned to protect yourself, to keep your distance, because hoping for a return to those days would only make the present hurt more.

“Right,” you said, trying to keep your composure as you gripped the folder in your hand. “I forgot you have an eidetic memory.”

Spencer didn’t say anything, but you could feel his eyes on you, a quiet, lingering gaze that you felt more than saw. The room suddenly felt incredibly small, the walls seeming to close in around you as your fingers fumbled slightly with the papers, grabbing another file.

You needed to get out of here. You needed to regain control. The faster you finish your work, the sooner you can escape him.

IV. The Table For Two

“You did it on purpose, didn’t you?” You pressed, arms linked with JJ as you both walked down the sidewalk, your stride matching the quick tempo of your rising irritation. The accusation in your voice was clear, but JJ just offered a casual shrug, avoiding direct eye contact.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You expect me to believe it was an accident?” Your skepticism was palpable, and you watched as a small smirk played at the corner of her lips. “That the door coincidentally locked itself when we were both inside?”

“The doors are old,” she said, keeping her gaze forward, her steps even and unhurried. “You know how it is, sometimes if you even just shut them too hard, they jam. Could happen to anyone.”

Her tone was too nonchalant, too practiced, and you tugged on her arm, pulling her to a stop. “Right, and I suppose it was also just chance that the door closed by itself?”

JJ paused, finally facing you with a raised eyebrow. “I didn’t do it.”

“Then somebody did.”

“Y/N,” she replied, her smile broadening in a way that only heightened your irritation. “Nobody did.”

You groaned, resuming your walk as you pulled her along. “You guys are so annoying.”

JJ laughed. “How did you get out of there anyway?”

You sighed, the memory of the escape bringing a frown to your face. The entire time you were locked in that room, you had done everything possible to avoid talking to him, focusing on shuffling through files and pretending to be absorbed in the work.

After what felt like an eternity of awkward silence and strained small talk, you both gave up trying to ignore the situation and started moving around the cramped space, phones held high, desperately trying to find a signal. When you finally managed to get a single bar, you quickly dialed Penelope, who answered with her usual upbeat tone, clearly amused by your predicament.

"We had to call Garcia to let us out,” you said, your tone dry. “She found the whole thing hilarious."

JJ's laughter grew as she imagined the scene. "She would have loved that. Probably made her day to rescue the two of you."

“She’s already teasing us about it.”

Her laughter slowly died down as she gave your arm a light tug. “Did anything happen while you two were in there?”

You hesitated, recalling the awkward silence, the shuffling of papers, and that brief, tensed exchange. “Not really,” you admitted. “We just tried to organize the files without screaming at each other.”

“But did you talk at all? I mean, really talk?”

“Jennifer,” you warned, the tone of your voice hinting that she was treading on uncomfortable territory. The thought of delving deeper into what had—or hadn’t—happened in that room was not something you were eager to talk about.

“I know, I know, it’s complicated,” she conceded. “Just thought it seemed like a good opportunity to maybe clear the air between you two.”

“Well, you thought wrong. There’s nothing to talk about.”

JJ looked at you skeptically, her eyes narrowing slightly as if she could see right through your defenses. She seemed on the verge of pushing further, but then her phone rang, interrupting the moment. She glanced at the screen and sighed, giving you an apologetic look. "Hold on, I need to take this. It's Will."

You nodded and watched as she stepped a few feet away to answer the call. You waited and tried to give her privacy, but it was hard when her words were clear as you listened to her talk, and the more she spoke, the more you narrowed your eyes at her.

“…right now… sure… no, it’s fine… I can be there in ten… of course, honey...”

You crossed your arms when JJ finally ended the call and turned back towards you.

"I need to head home,” she said, a bit too casually. “Will got called into work unexpectedly.”

Suspicion started to creep in as you processed her words. The timing was impeccable—a little too perfect. You both were supposed to meet up with Penelope and Derek for dinner, and it was almost guaranteed that Spencer would be there too, considering Derek had taken it upon himself to drag him along at any given chance under the pretense that ‘the kid needs to go out more’.

But the thought of JJ bailing on you on such short notice seemed out of pocket, even for her.

"Really, right now?" you asked, narrowing your eyes slightly. She shifted on her feet, her smile a bit forced. “Is everything okay?”

JJ nodded, but there was a flicker of something in her eyes—something that looked more like amusement than guilt. "Yeah, I just need to get home to the kids. I'll see you tomorrow, okay?"

The more she spoke, the more your suspicion grew. Her demeanor seemed too casual, almost rehearsed, as if she was trying to assure you while simultaneously eager to leave. It felt like she was in on some inside joke that you weren't aware of.

“Well, if you really have to go…”

“Don’t worry, you’ll be fine.” JJ flashed a quick, almost relieved smile and gave you a hurried kiss on the cheek. “Have a good time tonight, and fill me in on all the details later.”

“Details? What details?” You called after her but she was already walking away. “JJ! Why do I have to fill you in the details?”

She simply waved a hand without turning back, leaving you standing there with a growing sense of unease. You slowly resumed your walk, taking out your phone to call Penelope but stopped in your tracks when you saw a message from her, sent five minutes ago.

Hey, Sweetie, so sorry I can’t make it to dinner tonight! Something urgent came up. Have fun without me :)

Your stomach dropped as you read the message. First JJ, and now Garcia? It was starting to feel like you were being abandoned, or worse, you were being set up. You glanced around, half expecting to see Derek lurking in the shadows with a mischievous grin, orchestrating this whole fiasco.

It wasn’t until you arrived at the restaurant and spotted Spencer alone at the entrance, trying to avoid any immediate contact with the other patrons, that you realized your suspicion was confirmed. The pieces clicked together almost too neatly, and the man seemed as surprised to see you as you were to see him.

His discomfort was evident as he adjusted his stance, gripping the strap of his bag, eyes darting to you as you approached him.

“Morgan’s late,” he announced as a greeting.

“He’s not coming,” you said, unable to keep the annoyance from creeping into your voice. “And neither is JJ or Penny.”

“He told you that?”

“No,” you replied with a sigh. “But it’s pretty obvious now, isn’t it?”

"What is?"

“That we’ve been set up,” you shot back, crossing your arms. “They’re not coming, and I’m willing to bet they never planned to.”

He frowned, his brows knitting together. “You think they did this on purpose? Why would they—”

“Come on, Reid,” you interrupted. “They’ve been nudging us to talk for weeks. What better way than to leave us no choice?”

Spencer’s gaze hardened slightly. “I don’t need to be manipulated into having a conversation,” he said sharply.

“And you think I do?” You retorted. “I’m not exactly thrilled about being tricked into a dinner date either, if that’s what this is supposed to be.”

“It’s not a date,” Spencer replied quickly, almost defensively.

“Well, that’s one thing we agree on,” you snapped, then sighed, trying to rein in your temper. “Look, I don’t want to argue. Let’s just forget this ever happened and go home.”

There was a pause as Spencer looked around, his eyes settling back on you. “You want to go home?”

“You don’t?”

He hesitated, then shrugged. “I mean, we’re already here. Might as well stay and eat. It’s not like I have any better plans.”

You blinked, taken aback by his response. A part of you had expected him to jump at the chance to escape, but here he was, suggesting you to stay.

It seemed like a bad idea. The tension, the potential for awkward silences, the possibility of yet another argument—it all pointed to leaving being the better option. But against our better judgment, you found yourself considering his suggestion more than you wanted to admit.

Maybe it was the hunger gnawing at your stomach, or perhaps it was the realization that leaving now would only make things more awkward the next time you saw each other. Dinner with Spencer was the last option you’d choose, but it was better than coming home to an empty fridge.

“Fine,” you finally said, brushing past him. “But you’re paying.”

Spencer looked momentarily surprised but then nodded. “Fine.”

“Fine.”

You rolled your eyes as you walked into the restaurant, but immediately stopped in your tracks when you took in the setting. This wasn’t just a restaurant, it was a place designed for dates. The realization made you pause as you looked around the room in horror.

The dim lighting cast a soft glow on polished wood and fine china, while a gentle melody played subtly in the background, setting an unmistakable romantic mood. Just as you were taking in the scene, a hostess approached with a warm, inviting smile.

"A table for two?"

You felt a flush rise to your cheeks as you realized how the evening was poised to look. Turning slightly to gauge Spencer's reaction, you found him even more flustered, his face turning a shade redder as he stammered a response. "Uh, yes, that's—um, that will be fine."

The hostess nodded and led you to a small, intimate table near the window. Spencer fidgeted with the strap of his bag as you both sat down, his eyes darting around the room before finally settling on you. "This is... not exactly what I expected.”

You took the menu from the hostess before she left you both alone. “I’m going to kill them,” you muttered, shaking your head.

He raised an eyebrow. “That’s a bit extreme.”

You sighed, flipping through the menu without really seeing it. “They’re always meddling. They don’t know when to stop. I'm also convinced that being locked earlier was also part of their plan. And this—this is just so...”

“Annoying?” He offered.

“Infuriating,” you emphasized, throwing your hands up. “It’s infuriating. And embarrassing. And—”

“And yet, here we are,” he cut in, feeling the same way. Spencer paused for a moment, then leaned in slightly, sending you a pointed look. “You know, maybe we should just give them what they want.”

You blinked. “What do you mean?”

“Well, it’s a fact that humans are generally satisfied when they get what they want. And since what our friends want is for the two of us to get along, maybe we should just... pretend that we do.”

“Reid,” you pressed, mirroring his posture as you leaned forward. “They don’t want us to just get along. Look around us. They want us to really get along.”

Spencer paused, considering your words, his gaze lingering on the candlelit table and the other couples around, deep in conversation. He seemed to realize the full extent of the setup, the romantic undertone that wasn't simply incidental but intentional.

“You’re right,” he finally responded, leaning back in his seat. “Forget what I said. It was stupid.”

You studied him as he opened the menu, the candlelight casting a soft glow on his face. He was right. Not only was it stupid, it was crazy. Pretending to be civil with him was one thing, pretending that you shared some kind of unspoken, lingering feelings was another thing. The mere thought of it made your heart race, but you couldn’t tell if it was from anxiety or nervousness.

You quickly shook your head. It was ridiculous. How could you even begin to pretend to have feelings for someone with whom you shared such a complicated past? How could you act like there was something more between you when the reality was so different?

The whole idea was far-fetched, almost laughable. You couldn’t imagine yourself romantically involved with him, even if it was just for pretend.

#much ado about nothing #gifwriting #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fic #spencer reid x fem!reader smut #spencer reid #spencer reid smut #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x female reader #spencer reid x fanfiction #spencerreid #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid fluff #Fanfiction

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charliemwrites · 10 months ago

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A reader x Simon commission piece I just recently finished for my sweet bean N.W. I had a lot of fun writing a little scenario I never would have thought up on my own!

(Reader is described with FAB anatomy, but no gendered pronouns are used. No sensitive content warnings, just spice.)

It’s a perfect day.

The sun is a bright golden marble in a perfect jewel sky, toasting the sand into a powdery bed. There are only wisps of flossy cloud to interrupt the light, a feathery salt-soaked breeze to soften the edge of heat. The water is nothing but lazy ripples, foamy waves crawling up the coastline before slithering back.

And your coworker is soaking wet.

When you first signed on as a lifeguard, you didn’t expect more than some extra pocket money. A little financial cushion while you finished working through your master’s program. A chance to get some sunshine instead of holing up in your room. Maybe the occasional bit of eye candy while you fished children out of the shallows and fussed at families for littering around the barbecue grills.

You didn’t expect Simon “Walking Wet Dream” Riley. (Okay, that’s not his actual nickname – apparently it’s “Ghost.” Because of course it is.) You didn’t expect his big, fuck-off muscles, or his perfect sun-bleached hair, or the dark ink of his tattoos, or…

Well.

You got more than just eye candy when Mister Price hired you. Simon is a whole damn feast. Especially when he’s fresh from a cool-down swim, red trunks weighed down by water and tides, revealing the tantalizing curves of his hips. Droplets skittering over the bulges and divots of his body, sparkling in the sun…

“Excuse me?”

You try not to jolt, head jerking to the guy that hopefully hasn’t been standing there too long. He looks about your age, maybe a bit older. Wavy, chin-length brown hair and eyes nearly as blue as the water. Pretty, in a young Instagram prince kind of way. Maybe your type in another time – the time Before Simon.

“Hi,” you say quickly, “did you need something?”

“Do you have any plasters?” he asks. “My little brother scraped his knee.”

You glance at the kid shuffling just behind him, his knees dirtied and one red with a bit of blood. Nothing serious, you determine, but could use some first aid.

“Oh, poor thing!” you say. “C’mon, we have some bandages in the shack.”

You wave to get Simon’s attention, make the quick hand-sign indicating you’ll be gone for a moment. He notices you, the two boys, then nods and makes his way back to his usual lookout spot.

The shack is a quiet, cool oasis away from the heat. You’ve dozed off next to the mist fan more times than you care to admit, only to be woken by Simon pressing a cold water bottle to your cheek. It used to annoy you, but now you appreciate the reminder to hydrate.

There’s a robust first aid kit in one of the cabinets, though you groan a bit when you see how high Simon’s stashed it this time. Damned tall man; you could swear he does it on purpose. You try to reach it on your toes, but when that doesn’t work, you jump a bit. Still no luck. You’re going to have to get the stepstool at this rate.

“Here, I’ve got it.”

You jump a bit as Insta-Prince comes up behind you, sliding in close before you can scoot out of the way. He stretches his arm over your head, tugging the kit down from the shelf. When you glance up – concerned about something falling on you – you find him smirking down at you.

“Thanks,” you say trying not to snatch it out of his hands.

“Seems like an… inconvenient place to put that,” he muses.

You sit the younger brother on a plastic chair near the door and kneel, kit open on the floor. “We usually keep it lower… I think Simon forgets I’m shorter than him.”

The kid winces a bit at the sting of wound wash but puts on a brave face when you smile at him.

“Seems pretty rude. Is he hard to work with?” Insta-Prince asks.

You hesitate, trying to think of how to respond. Simon was intimidating, at first. Dark eyes and stoic expression, he was difficult to read. Always within a stone’s throw, you used to feel like he was hovering. Like he didn’t think you could do your job right.

Over the months, though, that insecurity has bridged into a tentative friendship. Even if he’s not talkative himself, he lets you chat to your heart’s content. Keeps you hydrated, reminds you to eat snacks and apply sunscreen. Even handles the rowdier beachgoers when they break rules, his bigger stature and sharp glare enough to cow even the most entitled people.

“No, he’s—”

“What’s the hold up?”

You glance up at Simon’s broad form angled in the shack’s doorway. His eyes aren’t on you or the kid, though. They’re on Insta-Prince – standing a little close to you, now that you’re not focused on the younger brother.

“Just finishing up,” you answer, smoothing a waterproof bandage over the scrape. “You did great, buddy, high five!”

That earns you a little smile and the requested high-five as the kid hops out of the chair. When you stand, Simon’s eyes flick to you. Darker than deep water, something swimming within that you can discern from the surface. It makes you fidgety, like you’ve been caught out doing something you shouldn’t.

“Remember to log it,” he rumbles.

“On it!” You lean over the wooden counter to pluck the clipboard from the wall on the other side, relieved that someone put the pen back for once.

“So, you have to write down all the injuries people get?” Insta-Prince asks, trying for casual conversation. The air feels oddly stifling, and gets worse when he settles closer, peeking around to see the sheet.

“Just if we use medical supplies,” you answer, scribbling quickly.

“Lifeguards only in the shack, kid,” Simon interrupts. “Get moving.”

You try not to snort in amusement. While Simon might tolerate you, he’s got a general disdain for most beachgoers – ironic considering how adamant he is about safety. But he seems to find the average person a nuisance to be constantly monitored and herded away from trouble. Like a shepherd with a flock of particularly stupid sheep.

“My brother was hurt, man, give me a break,” Insta-Prince protests, annoyed.

“And now he’s not,” Simon replies. “You should catch up with him. Kids need to be watched, isn’t that right, sunshine?”

You hum absently in agreement, signing off on the injury log with your initials. There’s a beat of silence that itches at the back of your mind. When you look up, Simon’s arching an eyebrow at the guy, thick arms crossed across his barrel chest.

Sir, firearms are not allowed on the beach, you think, before wrenching your eyes from Simon’s biceps.

“Did you need anything else?” you ask Insta-Prince.

“Just what time you get off work,” he replies, giving you big, soft, hopeful eyes.

You blink, a bit shocked. Flirting happens rarely for you, except maybe platonically with Soap or Gaz. To be fair, you’re not exactly the female lifeguard idol that most people would fantasize about. Half the time you jog around in shorts and a rash-guard, more comfortable in unisex swimwear and keeping the worst of the sun off yourself. Helpful to avoid wardrobe malfunctions if a panicking swimmer grabs at you.

Besides, you’re not really looking to get hit on. Hard to keep an eye out for emergencies if someone’s chatting your ear off for a shag by the restrooms. (You didn’t think people really did that until Farah groaned about it at the bonfire when you first hired.) Still, now that it’s happening… you don’t hate it. This guy is objectively attractive, apparently cares about his younger sibling enough to get him first-aid, and is weathering Simon’s increasingly annoyed scowl.

You figure there’s no harm. Not like someone else is showing a similar interest.

“At sunset,” you answer. “So, uh…”

“6:30,” Simon offers.

You shoot him a grateful look as the kid begins scooting for the door, skirting around Simon’s wider, thicker frame. Christ, the difference is stark. You tug at the front of your rash-guard to relieve some of the sudden heat.

“Maybe I’ll see you then,” he says before disappearing around the corner.

You stare after him for a second. He didn’t even ask for your name. “Huh.”

“The hell was that, sunshine?” Simon grouses.

You turn to him and shrug. “No idea.”

“Really now?” he scoffs.

You shake your head, already agitated by the whole thing for no reason you can pinpoint. Lean over the counter again to hang up the clipboard. “Really.”

“This isn’t a place for your silly summer fantasies and little meet-cutes,” he growls. “This is a real job, with real lives on the line.”

You twist around, brows furrowed as your mouth drops open in offense. “I know that.”

“Do you? Then why the fuck were you in here flirting?”

“I was helping the kid,” you argue, “you saw him!”

“Real convenient, that. When the older one’s been eye-fucking you all damn day.”

Any snappy retorts drown in the shock of his crass language and the accusation. All day? That guy? And Simon noticed? Never mind all that – Simon would seriously think you’d use a kid’s injury as an excuse to… what? Get cozy with an attractive stranger while on duty?

“I don’t know what you’re on about,” you huff, “but I need to get back out there.”

As you pass, a big, rough hand snaps out and catches your elbow. You come up short, half-turning towards him, face hot. Equal parts angry and ashamed for some reason. Summer romance your ass.

“Get it together,” he orders.

You click your tongue at him. “Same to you.”

You wrench your arm back and storm out onto the sand, snatching your floatie from the shack railing along the way. Don’t know what jellyfish stung his ass, but you hope he figures it out. Don’t think your self-esteem can take another round of… whatever that was.

The rest of the day passes tense and slow. Without Simon to talk to, and the beach relatively peaceful, you’re left to fixate on the incident in the shack. What was that about? You thought for sure you’d grown on Simon a bit. Sure, you’re one of the younger lifeguards, which is why Price assigned you to Simon’s post, but you’ve worked hard. You thought you’d proven yourself.

Checking your watch, you find that it’s nearly 6:30. The sun doesn’t seem that low yet, but the beach got empty while you were idly keeping watch. Might as well pack it in, you figure.

Not even thinking of Insta-Prince when you hop up the little wooden steps to the shack. Simon isn’t back from wherever he’s monitoring yet, and you’d like to be clear before that changes. Just in case he’s still in a bad mood.

You shed your blue swim-shorts and rash-guard on the counter, leaving you in the more standard one-piece. Roll your shoulders a bit uncomfortably, itching to squeeze into your binder after a day with tits-out. You’ve gotten accustomed to the sensation of leaving it off for the job, but you’d still prefer to wear it when safe.

You flop onto the counter, reaching over the side to fish your bag out from its cubby. Of course, that’s the exact moment that you hear Simon’s heavy step on that creaky board by the doorway.

“Bloody hell,” you think you hear him mutter.

“I’m just about to head out,” you assure him.

“Meeting up with that knob?”

Your temper flares. You abandon your bag and land on your feet, spinning around. Come up (very) short when Simon’s right there, not enough room to breathe without your chests brushing. But you don’t allow yourself to be deterred.

“So, what if I am?” you challenge.

His eyes darken, then narrow. “This isn’t a game you want to play, sunshine.”

“Maybe I do,” you insist, planting your hands on your hips.

He exhales slow and heavy, boxes you in against the counter with hands on either side of you. Your stupid, traitorous heart skips a beat, then trips into double time. Normally he wears a rash-guard too, but not today. No, today it’s swathes of tanned, scarred skin. And it’s so, so close to yours.

“You won’t win,” he warns.

Your tongue feels heavy and clumsy, maybe because your thoughts feel the same way. Now, you’re not always the most aware of “signals,” but there aren’t many other ways to interpret someone near-pinning you to a counter with smoldering eyes.

You scramble to review the earlier confrontation through a new lens. The way Simon glared at Insta-Prince, not you – until you seemed open to his interest. Oh. Ohhhh.

You wet your lips; the way his eyes lock onto the movement bolsters your courage.

“What if… I don’t want to win?” you ask.

His eyes dart up to yours, something a little sharper than longing when he whispers, “I’d make you a sore loser.”

An unexpected laugh bursts out of you; his teeth flash in a crooked smile as he scoops you up so easily. He sits you on edge of the counter and steps between your thighs, pelvis bumping against yours. You gasp, head dropping to stare wide-eyed at the frankly monstrous bulge in his trunks.

“W-wow,” you mumble faintly, thighs squeezing around his hips.

“C’mere, sunshine,” he growls, cupping your jaw.

You tilt your face up, sigh softly as his mouth slots over yours. He tastes like blue powerade and sea salt, tongue curling against yours when you grant him enthusiastic access.

Your hands make scattered, eager work of exploring him, unsure where you want to touch first, just that you have to. He’s as solid as you always expected, densely packed muscle under healthy, hydrated layers of fat. Sun-warm beneath your palms, shudders as your skim them dangerously close low on his twitching abdomen.

“Can I take this off?” he asks, tugging gently at the shoulder strap of your swimsuit.

“Yeah,” you mumble, wriggling closer.

He huffs in amusement, peeling the elastic material over your arms and down your chest while you scatter kisses over his jaw and neck. You gasp into his peck when his calloused thumbs brush your hard nipples. Just a small touch, yet electricity is racing up and down your spine.

“This alright?” he checks.

You hum the affirmative, pressing into his touch as he pinches and rolls the sensitive peaks, slow searching. Reclaims your mouth to swallow each and every little mewl and moan that spills off your tongue. You can’t help rocking against him, hot and hard through the thin layers of swimwear.

“Simon,” you whine against his mouth, “c’mon.”

“Impatient,” he teases, nipping your bottom lip.

“You’ve kept me waiting long enough,” you complain, tugging at his trunks.

“I know, sunshine,” he coos, “just wait a bit longer.”

He takes the tiniest step back, fingers hooking in your swimsuit again to roll it the rest of the way off. You lift your hips to help, nearly squirming as strings of slick web between the fabric and your pussy. But Simon seems hypnotized, snapping the strands with his fingers and following them back to your swollen cunt.

“Fuck, all this for me, baby?” he rasps.

You make an embarrassed noise – which quickly graduates into an alarmed squeal when he drops to his knees.

“Simon, wait, I’ve been working all day and—”

“Don’ give a fuck,” he growls, “I’ve been dying to taste you for weeks.”

He yanks your thighs over his big, strong shoulders and dives in. It’s messy and obscenely loud, filling up the tiny shack and all the empty space in your head. Would be embarrassing if you had any room for something so frivolous. Instead, you’re gone on the way he sucks your clit and laps thirstily at your entrance. Utterly obsessed with the deep, throaty groans that leave you throbbing.

It's been a while, true, but you know he’d have you on edge so fast regardless. And he does, rushing up on it like a building, rolling wave. The devastating kind that’ll drown you in unyielding currents.

“Wait, wait,” you squeak, tugging at his coarse hair.

To his credit, he stops instantly, though he sounds absolutely gutted about it. Pulls back licking his lips like a cat with cream, chin practically dripping.

“Alright?” he asks, voice shredded to ribbons.

“I just,” you pant, “I just w-wasn’t ready to – to… I wanna cum on your cock. Please, Si?”

“Fuckin’ hell.” He surges up, pressing you down flat to kiss you stupid(er) and senseless. The taste of you isn’t as offensive as you expected, not coming from his tongue. “You’ll get anything you want if you keep talking like that.”

“Just want you.”

He helps you off the counter, drags you by the wrist to the plastic chair by the doorway. You’re about to protest – no way can that chair support someone his size, never mind both of you. But then he’s spinning you around, crushing you to his chest, and yanking you down into his lap. Any such nonsense as good sense dissolves like a sandcastle.

You can feel the length of him pressing hot and a little wet against your spine. (So, so high up your spine, good god). When he freed himself from his swim-trunks, you’re not sure, nor do you care at this moment. Your priorities narrow down to one absolute necessity: getting him inside you now, now, now.

“Easy now, baby, don’t hurt yourself,” he purrs in your ear. “Let me help.”

He curls big hands around your hips, tight enough that you relish the bruises that may bloom there later. Supports your weight as if it’s nothing to him, propping you over his lap as you line up his cock, dragging the flushed head through your pooling wetness. He curses low and rough, sinking you down until the tip catches on your entrance.

“There we are,” he grits, hands flexing in your soft flesh. “Nice and slow now, sunshine.”

If you had your way, he’d already be balls deep in your aching pussy. But his grip is firm and unrelenting, lowering you inch by thick inch down his shaft. You back and squeeze around him, encouraging him deeper, faster, helpless little noises escaping from your gaping mouth.

“That’s it, halfway there,” he breathes. “Doing so well.”

You choke. Halfway?! You already feel stuffed, walls gripping every contour of his cock like you were made for him.

He twitches inside you, bulbous, leaking head grinding deliciously, and your resolve cracks right down the middle. You dig your nails into his thighs and slam your hips down, crying out as he buries deep inside. Can feel him nudging your cervix, stretching your silky walls, all the way down to where your opening is sealed tight around the base of him.

“Fuck,” he snarls.

“F-feels so good,” you whimper, head falling forward as you clench around him.

Oh, you are definitely going to be so perfectly sore after this. You can’t fucking wait.

“If you’re that impatient to be ruined,” he chuckles breathlessly, “best brace yourself, lovie.”

You barely manage to get your feet planted before he’s fucking up into you, hard and mean. Just what you want, what you need. Your head falls back to cry your pleasure to the shack roof as you bounce. Rocking your hips each time he bottoms out, grinding him against that spongy bundle of nerves inside you. It’s mind-numbing; you’re leaking around him, know it must be dripping onto the floor at this point.

He snakes a hand around to your front. Brushes where the two of you are connected, the strange and dangerous sensation making tears prick at your eyes. Then his fingers skip up to your needy, oversensitive clit. You almost want to stop him, already so overwhelmed with pleasure. But again, anything like coherent thought is ripped away on a tide of ecstasy when he begins rubbing quick, tight circles.

Your rhythm faulters at the new stimulation, but Simon just widens his stance. It changes the angle, drags the head so perfectly against your g-spot. With the hand still on your hip, he starts jerking you down to meet each thrust. It’s slightly slower, but so much sweeter, combined with the rhythm he’s strumming on your clit.

Your orgasm rises like a tsunami, higher and higher, a devastating force building up inside.

“Simon,” you keen, “Simon, I’m gonna – right there…”

“That’s it, sunshine. Get me nice and wet with your cum.”

That voice, saying such filth in your ear, sends you over the edge. You nearly convulse, eyes rolling back in your head as you scream. Back arching, writhing and gripping crescents into his thighs. And you can feel yourself gushing all over him, onto the floor.

“Yes, yes, fuck, just like that.”

You’re near limp as he keeps hammering into you, practically using you like a toy to get himself off. The thought alone makes you squeeze around him again, a powerful aftershock bringing another flood of wetness. Your head lolls back against his shoulder, crying into his ear, begging him to cum inside you, fill you up…

He crashes his mouth into yours as he cums, groaning into your lax mouth, jerking violently into your overstimulated pussy. You swear you can feel him spurting inside you, thick and white-hot. It feels… it feels…

You break the kiss to suck in a deep breath, lightheaded and still squeaky with pleasure. Simon trails soothing kisses over your shoulder, grip easing up to caress over the forming finger marks. You hum softly, voice husky. Flutter your eyes open and blink at the pink sky out the window.

“Is it… is it just now sunset?” you ask.

Simon chuckles against your ear. “Looks like I was about thirty minutes off. Whoops.”

#cod #my writing #fanfiction #reader fic #commissioned work #ko fi commissions #simon x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #lifeguard au #beach au #simon ghost riley

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lovemybluebully · 3 months ago

Text

It's For Science

This is just a little something I scrounged together, inspired by a post by @snugglyfluffle 😊

https://www.tumblr.com/snugglyfluffle/761535277842022400/since-logan-has-a-shorter-waist-then-wade-does-do?source=share

Damn, writer's block has been a biiiiiitch. I wrote a lot of this in the later hours of the night after my long workdays so sorry if it's nothing spectacular, or if there's any spelling/grammatical errors.

Wade gets it into his head that maybe not all humans have the same number of rib bones. His logic being that since Logan has a shorter body then he may be an exception. Unfortunately for Logan this is far too ticklish of an experiment for him to bear.

A small bit of ticklish!deadpool at the end too. 😉

Warnings for foul language and other Deadpool-type stuff.

"Deadpool and Wolverine"-verse

M/M Tickle Fic

Word Count: 4,234

"The skeletal system is comprised of bones that give structure to the body and work with the muscles and joints to provide movement. The human body contains 206 bones….," the certified doctor on the television explained as he gestured to a replica model human skeleton while Wade sat watching on the couch.

"207 if I'm watching Gossip Girl, hehehe. Shit, I already made that joke in the movie. Well it's still true anyhow, am I right?" Wade snorted a laugh as he turned from his position on the couch with his hand up for a high-five, but found his roommate leaned back in the couch with his eyes closed and his hands on his lap.

It had been a nice lazy afternoon for the two of them and Logan had KO'ed quite a few beers as the monotone voice of the television host was making him doze off.

"Pssht! Old man can't stay awake for five minutes," Wade waved him off as he turned back to the tv.

"The ribcage has an important job in providing protection to some of the most vital organs being the lungs and the heart. There are 12 ribs on each side, making 24 in total…"

The merc blinked in curiosity as he sat up tall and now slowly began to feel up each side of his body to count the ribs within, having to dig in pretty thoroughly to get through the muscle.

"Hmm I'm only feeling 20 here….," he rechecked to be sure, finding all the ones leading up to his collarbone.

"The 11th and 12th pair of ribs are called 'floating ribs' because unlike all the others they are not attached to the sternum but are still attached to the backbone….," the doctor went on as he pointed to two pairs of ribs on the back area of the skeleton.

Wade's hands wound around to his lower back and found the missing pairs right where the doctor said they'd be.

"Huh. What do you know, he's right. I mean, duh!" He bopped himself on the forehead, "Of course he's right. He's a fucking doctor. Hey Wolvie, you're missing some interesting stuff here."

"Mmph," Logan only grunted in response, not even hearing what Wade had actually said as he started to drift further into fully passing out.

Wade then had a thought pop into his mind as he looked over at his near-comatose friend. Logan's torso was a lot shorter than his own so he wondered if it was true that all humans had the same number of ribs. The doc hadn't specified if it was possible to have less and Wade's hyper mind needed an answer right away.

"Hmm. I suppose I could just Google it to find out for sure, but nah! I prefer to do my own field study. Plus you all need a fun little fic to read, and I know Logan won't mind if it tickles just a teensy little bit. Commence Operation How-Many-Ribs-Does-A-Wolverine-Have."

He slid over and wiggled his fingers up in the air before placing them on the bottom of Logan's ribcage, pressing in gently to feel the first two ribs as the man immediately jumped and blinked his eyes open in a groggy daze.

"Whatistha….Wade? What-heheh-What're you doin'?" He batted at Wade's hands with very little accuracy from being half-asleep, giggles escaping him as the fingers moved up to the next set of ribs.

"Well if you had stayed awake Peanut, you would have seen this educational program I've been watching about the human body. They say there are 24 ribs in a human, but I was curious if it applied to all body heights. Being that you're a little shorter than me I wanted to see if you had the same," Wade explained his current lunacy as Logan started to wake up a little more though it took him a moment to really process everything that had been said.

"Huh? The fuck are ya-eheheheehee-Ribs? Course I do, dipshihihit. Now stohahahop it," he was unsuccessful in trying to block out Wade's hands as they continued up his sides.

"I sure will. Once I have verified the facts. Though I'm pretty sure this would go a lot quicker if you would just hold still," Wade smirked big time, knowing there was absolutely no way Logan could ever stay still for something like this when his torso was so ridiculously sensitive, "Okay looks like that's number 5…..and oh, there's 6…."

"How abohohout I c-count your teeheeheeheeth after I knohohock 'em outta your fuhuhuhucking head?" Logan chuckled hard, taking a half-hearted and easily dodge-able swing with his fist towards Wade.

"Don't threaten me with a good time, muffin cakes. Come on, this is a fun game. At least smile, would ya?" Wade teased, looking down at his friend while increasing the speed that his fingers wiggled around against his sides.

The X-man's grin had lit up his normally stoic face while he made many attempts to shove Wade's arms away, but those nimble fingers were practically glued to his sides.

"Of ahahahall the stuhuhuhupid-Eeeheheheheheheh! Stahahahap, ya mohohohoron! Thehehehey're all thehehehere!" Logan was giggling uncontrollably and sinking back into the couch cushions, trying to will his body to phase through and escape but there was only so much give that he was allowed.

Truthfully after the relaxing day he'd had and the keg of beer in his belly he found that he wasn't too bothered about Wade waking him up with his dumb experiment.

"How can I be certain? Got any proof? Any reliable witnesses to corroborate your case? Hmm? Perhaps you have an x-ray of your body to show me? A scientific essay conducted by a world renowned researcher? Any of those would be acceptable."

Logan obviously could only shake his head.

"N-Nohohohohoo, buhut I can cuhuhut myself opehehehen and-ahahahahaa-you cahahahan loohoohook for yoursehehehelf!" He released one claw from his hand as Wade gasped in horror and quickly grabbed his wrist to pin it to the couch with his knee.

"Ohhh no you don't. You're crazy if you think I'm gonna allow my precious little badger to cause himself any harm. Besides my method is way less messy. Just wish I knew why you find it to be so funny," he stated, playing dumb as Logan attempted to growl through his giggles, though the intimidation factor was completely lost.

"Yohohohou f-fucking knohow why I'm lahahahahaughin', ya ihihihihidiot!" He retracted the sharp blade back into his body, trying to squirm free, "Now gehehehet outta thehehehere, ohohor ehehehelse!"

The threats were in full effect, but the claws remained sheathed.

Wade recognized that Logan was in a more light-hearted mood than normal, and he wasn't going to let it go to waste. If he had woken up with murder on his mind then Wade might have been more inclined to back off sooner. But now that he had the green light it was on!

"Or else what? Doesn't seem like you're trying too hard to stop me," he called his bluff and grinned at how the man weakly pulled at his wrists with his one free hand and was trying to curl up in defense.

He knew Logan would be fighting him a lot harder than this if he was really as disagreeable as he wanted him to think.

Actually, Wolverine had a little secret he was keeping. He would die before admitting it out loud, but there were times he found that he actually enjoyed this. Yes, enjoyed getting tickled within an inch of his life.

Definitely not at first though. And to fully grasp the situation we'll have to rewind the story just a…

"Aw nohohoo bub! Thehehey don't neeheed to hehehear all o' thahahat!"

Wade's heart skipped a beat as he gasped in excitement.

"Oh em gee! Your first fourth wall break! I'm so fucking proud of you!"

Shush, we're doing this.

Anyways Logan couldn't remember ever being tickled before so the day Wade had discovered that he was in fact quite ticklish he did everything in his power to fight him off and avoid it altogether. Wade wouldn't back off though and inevitably got him pinned down, even though it resulted in several stab wounds to his head and torso.

Having been alive for over 200 years Logan was very used to experiencing pain of some of the highest levels physically and mentally, but tickling was something very alien to him. Not surprisingly he struggled with processing the maddening, yet gentle touches.

He didn't like to show any signs of weaknesses, but being tickled completely overwhelmed his heightened senses, especially in the touch department, and it was impossible for him to not react to it. There had been feelings of anger and humiliation at how easily simple fingers were able to render him powerless, and it only got worse once he finally broke into agonized laughter.

Logan hated the feeling of not having control, especially over his own body. Once he had managed to break free, he had been extremely cross with Wade and went into one of his brooding moods for the majority of the day.

After giving him time to cool off, Wade eventually approached him to apologize, and Logan shrugged it off now that his temper had died down. Though he had been working on trying to better himself and he explained to Wade what it had made him feel and why he had reacted so strongly against it.

Wolverine being vulnerable enough to share his feelings with him was one of the only times Wade was ever completely serious and really gave his full attention. Despite getting a kick out of always annoying him Wade never wanted to cause him true stress and it made him feel like a real asshole when Logan ended up apologizing to him too.

Wade promised to never do it to him again but added that he just got carried away due to the fact that he really liked seeing Logan not only smile but laugh especially. Logan had become utterly stupefied by that confession. He thought Wade had only been trying to torment and embarrass him, which was what had really set him off.

He had then taken the next few days to reflect on that. He could definitely empathize with how good it felt to see someone you really cared about experiencing joy. Knowing that Wade's intentions were far from malicious had really put his mind at ease about it, realizing that his pride had gotten the better of him.

And the more he thought back on it it really wasn't that bad.

Which was why Wade's squawk of surprise when Logan tackled him from out of nowhere to attack his sides with tickles gave Logan the same fuzzy feeling he assumed Wade had had. Wade not only was laughing from the tickling, but from relief as well, realizing that he'd been unspokenly forgiven.

He didn't even fight it and just let Logan tickle him to his heart's content until finally the man stopped and grunted that he had hoped he'd "learned his lesson" while giving him a small smirk.

Wade was able to read between the lines and took the chance to pounce him the very next day, and despite some growling threats he received the older mutant didn't seem entirely displeased. Logan had completely let his guard down, which now enabled him to truly experience it in full.

Still, he made Wade work for it before he finally stopped holding in his laughter. The crazy merc then proceeded to make him laugh harder than he could ever remember doing in his past, and he found the brain chemical effects from that to do wonders for his mood.

The funny thing about it to Logan was that even though he was rendered helpless from tickling he realized that he was still 100% safe, and he found that to be a very comforting thought. It was a new experience for him to be in such a close proximity struggle where the end goal wasn't to try to hurt or kill him.

Sure, Wade would use tickling as a form of retaliation a lot of times, but it was all the same to Logan by now. Naturally he wasn't always in the mood for a tickle attack, but these days more often than not he didn't fight it too much and was quite content to let his roommate turn him into a squirming, wheezing wreck.

Of course, for appearances sake, Logan would still curse his head off and threaten the man's life at every turn. Up until the mischievous merc would tickle him to the point he could barely take it and turn that macho attitude into desperate pleas for mercy.

Which brings us back to our current situation.

"Dahahammit! I-I dihihihidn't ahahask for a wahahahaake up cahahahall!"

"No thanks needed! It's totally complimentary in el Casa de Wade. But don't mind me, feel free to go back to sleep. I'm just going to keep counting these ribs here until we get to the bottom of this. Ah, finally we found 7 and 8."

Wade was still acting as if this whole idea was just to count his ribs and hadn't even acknowledged that he was purposely tickling him and realizing that made Logan feel even more giddy as he let out a snort and shook his head.

"Wade c'mooon! Get ohohohoff! Ya-heehehehe-Ya know I'm ticklihihihihish, fucker!" His big-muscled arms were clamped so tightly against his sides, but there was no stopping the determined fingers crawling up his ribs.

"Whaaa? Wolverine? Ticklish? Ha! That's absurd! My guy Logan is way too mean and strong and tough to be affected by something so childish! Oh boy, and I thought I was the king of jokes around here. Now come on, stop messing around and just move your arms out of the way so I can finish this," Wade smirked, loving to tease him about his ticklishness in regard to his hard-core reputation.

"You fuhuhuhucking ahahahasshohohohole!" Logan snorted hard and now fell over to the side as he began scooting along the couch to get away.

"Heheh, where do you think you're going? Stop being so dramatic, Nancy Kerrigan. It's okay to make that joke now, right? 30 years later is fair," he shrugged at the camera, not letting up one bit as he followed along with his squirming prey, "I can feel 9 and 10 now. We're almost halfway there! Oooh! How exciting!"

"Cuhuhut it ohohohout! Heeheheheheheheh! Juhuhust drohop this stuhuhupid ideheeheeheea!"

The higher Wade went the stronger the tickling sensations felt, and Logan was pretty sure he was going to die before the last of his ribs were even reached, though in his mind it honestly wasn't the worst way for him to go.

"🎵 Ohhhh the itsy-bitsy spiders crawled up the waterspout….🎵," Wade effortlessly sing-songed with clawed fingers continuing their torturously slow progress, thoroughly scraping over every rib bone they came across, "🎵 Down came the rain….but couldn't wash the spiders out because they were having too much fun counting all these cute little ribbies. 🎵."

It always made Logan feel silly whenever Wade's teases took on a more juvenile form. He was the tenacious and deadly Wolverine and yet Wade was treating him like he was just some harmless little kid. He was never able to stop the blush from spreading across his face.

"Shuhuhuhuut uhuhuhup! Ohohor you're gohohonna haahahave another fuhuhuhuckin'-Hahahahahahehee-hohohohole t-to breheeheeheeathe outta yohohour fahahahat hehehehead!"

"Wow. We're body shaming now? I'm very sensitive about my fat head, you know. Well have you looked in the mirror lately, mister? Just walking around with those big, sexy arms and your handsomely chiseled jawline, and don't even get me started on all that sculpted beef that you're hiding in disgrace underneath this shirt. Yeah, doesn't feel so good now, does it, you absurdly attractive man? Uh huh….oh….yup, right there we got 11 and 12."

Wade was just so ridiculous sometimes, but when Logan was already caught in a laughing fit the merc's unstoppable blabbering only succeeded in making him laugh even harder. And unfortunately, he was slowly losing his will to carry on with acting tough through this tickle session.

"Fihihihiiine! I'm-heeheehehahahahaha-I'm sorrrrry! I tahahahake it bahahahaack! Just stooohohohoooop!" Logan didn't know how much more he could take of this. Actually, he did know due to having suffered under Wade's fingers for months now, and the answer was a lot.

"Why? I'm just trying to get a count here. 13……14…..It's for science. Hey look, I'm sorry……," Wade pretended to show some remorse before breaking into a huge smirk, "Sorry my wittle Wolvie-polvie is too freakin' ticklish for his own good!"

Logan's back finally met the armrest of the couch, preventing him from going any further as he leaned back over it to try to get away. Though this now had his ribcage fully stretched out as Wade stepped it up and dug his fingers in mercilessly between rib bones, making Logan positively howl in laughter.

"Ahahahahaa! Wade naahahahahahahaho! Pleheheease! Thahahahaat tickles!" He thrashed madly trying to wiggle away, but Wade had him pinned right where he wanted him as he just snickered at the situation.

"I think at this point you know that was part of my plan all along. Hehehe, but we're so close! Think of the prestige we'll get from this scientific breakthrough! Oh! I think I just found 15! Oooh! And could that be 16?! C'mon, buddy! Bear with me now!"

The upper ribs were basically in Logan's armpits that were covered with a more fleshy layer and Wade was really having to probe in there to actually feel the bones beneath.

"Not thehehehere! Noohot thehehehehehehhehehere! Haahahahaheeheeheeheehaa! Mehehehehercyyyyyy! Logan squealed helplessly with his head tilted back and showing off his elongated canine teeth; his face as red as a tomato as tears squeezed out of his tightly shut eyes.

The feral man's t-shirt had ridden up, exposing the lower half of his ripped stomach and Wade was currently in a position where it was at eye level. He smirked as he thought about how crazy Logan got whenever he would blow raspberries into his tummy, and he found the urge to do so was just too strong to resist as he took a deep breath.

"WAAAHahAHaHAhaHAHAAADE!!" Logan screamed with the first oral assault landing directly around his navel, breaking into silent laughter while wheezing desperately for air. Many more blows were delivered to his belly and ribs while the fingers continued tickling in his armpits as Logan summoned up any energy he had left and pushed with all he had in him at Wade's head and shoulders.

Eventually after being slapped and punched in the head so many times, Wade finally allowed himself to be pushed away, taking one last nibble at his hip bone.

"Geez, calm down Hugh, you over actor," he chuckled as he looked down at the man who was currently swallowing all the air he could and gingerly wiping away at tears.

"Okaaahaahay…..Fuckin' Hell……That's it…..for nohohow…..Y-You got me…..good……No more….right?"

"Weeeeeell if you would have just stayed still, we could have had this all over with. But noooooo, you just had to make me lose count," Wade sighed loudly in feigned disappointment, "Looks like I'm gonna have to start aaaallllllll over again."

With a wicked grin he began reaching out towards the still incapacitated man who was now shaking his head frantically as his hands raised in defense.

"N-No Wade. Not again. Stay back. Heehehehe-please. I can't take any more," he couldn't help giggling in anticipation as Wade hovered over him again.

"Hold still now…Don't worry Peanut, we'll get through this together. So that's 1……and 2…….and a coochie coochie coo…," Wade started again on his waist to get at his bottom ribs as Logan was already breaking into squeals.

"20?! Again?! For real?! I've counted three times already!"

Logan was hanging halfway off the couch; his hair sticking out in every direction and his cheeks slicked with tears as he coughed and tried to regain any hint of sanity he had left.

"It's……It's……fine…….Wade…..I'm sure……..they're in……there……somewhere……," he panted weakly, slowly starting to feel his energy revitalize.

"Or maybe you really do only have 20? My theory that you have fewer since you are shorter may be correct!" Wade was getting lost in his thoughts, but then at that moment a voice of reason sounded off.

"And remember, the 11th and 12th pair of ribs are referred to as 'floating ribs' and are only attached at the backbone….," the television was still on and by this point the doctor had gone back around and was summarizing everything he had just talked about.

The light bulb finally went on in Wade's head.

"Oh yeeeeah……forgot about those little buggers," Wade slowly turned to look at his friend whose eyes went wide as he scrambled to get away.

Five seconds later and Wade had Logan pinned on his stomach as his fingers wiggled into his lower back to find the missing rib pairs while Logan cackled wildly and pounded his fists with his feet uselessly kicking at the cushions.

"23…..and 24! Well would you look at that! I guess all humans are the same after all!" Wade declared happily as he finally climbed off of his roommate, signaling the end of his reign of terror, "Whaddya think, Wolvie? Aren't you so glad to have that useful little tidbit of information at your disposal?"

Logan gradually rolled over onto his back and raised an annoyed brow.

"Could've just fuckin' Googled it, bub," he growled, though a smile was still stuck on his face.

"Okay I admit waking you up may not have been the nicest way to go about it, but you know how impatient I am. And be honest, you really don't seem that upset about it," Wade grinned, reaching over to scribble fingers over his now exposed stomach while Logan snorted chuckles and tried to block him out with his knees before rolling away.

"You're lucky I didn't piss my pants, asshole. Drank a shit load of beers right before I fell asleep. I gotta piss like a fucking racehorse now," Logan stumbled to his feet and walked off to use the bathroom.

Wade grinned as he watched him walk away before turning to the audience.

"He's cute, ain't he? And I didn't hear any denial in that, did you? He doesn't know that I heard the author spill his secret earlier. It's nice to know that he actually enjoys it, even if he won't say it. I'm totally good with that."

The sound of Logan groaning in relief echoed down the hallway followed by the toilet flushing several moments later before he walked back out to join Wade on the couch.

"Did you make sure to put the seat back down? Althea won't be happy if she falls in again," he asked as Logan looked at him with a frown.

"That one was on you, shithead. I always remember to. You've lived how many years with this poor lady? I seriously don't know how she's put up with your stupid, inconsiderate ass for so long."

"Exactly the same way you do, sugar tits," Wade grinned and pinched his cheek, receiving an adamantium elbow into his side and grunting as the air was knocked out of him momentarily.

"It's a daily struggle that's for sure. But I owe ya a lot for breaking me out of my destructive cycle, so we'll call it even," Logan had softened his demeanor, knowing he truly owed Wade his gratitude as the other man noted this and took advantage of his guard being down.

"Awww there it is! Right there! I knew you loved me!" Wade squealed as he jumped onto Logan's lap and wrapped his arms around his head in the tightest of hugs.

"Gaah! Wade! Fuckin' dammit! Let go of me!" Logan struggled to pry Wade off of him until he was hit with a moment of inspiration as he latched his fingers onto Wade's unprotected sides to start tickling him with everything he had.

"Aahaahahah! Logan dohohohohooot! Thahahahat's nohohohot fahahahaaair!" Wade yelped with giggles as he quickly tried to escape, but Logan held him firmly in place.

"Fair? Okay, let's be fair. See we learned that all my ribs are there, but seems we've overlooked yours. Think it's best we check that out right away, don't you?" Logan asked with a crooked grin as Wade frantically shook his head while thrashing in his lap, "No? Well ain't that just too damn bad."

Logan dug right in with both strong hands, not even hiding the fact that his mission was to tickle the absolute shit out of his roommate.

"Okaahahahay yohohou cahahan cheheheck! Heheehhehahah! Juhuhust nohoho tihihihickling!"

"Now how do ya expect me to do that? You got an x-ray or some bullshit to show me? A fuckin' thesis paper on the matter? What? Ya don't? Well that fuckin' sucks for you. Looks like we're doing this the old-fashioned way. What number was I on? Oh yeah….1…….1…….1……1 again….."

"Cahahahahaaan't you fuhuhucking cohohount, you neahahahanderthal?!?!"

Logan smirked big time, repeatedly prodding into the same rib over and over.

"Guess not. Numbers apparently aren't my strong suit. Looks like this is gonna take alllll day then."

Wade could only laugh and squeal in response, knowing he had sealed his own doom.

#tickle fic #ticklish!wolverine #ticklish!logan #lee!wolverine #lee!logan #ler!deadpool #ler!wade #deadpool tickle #wolverine tickle

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unoislazy · 1 year ago

Text

Masterlist

Oldest to newest

(The only things out of order are the Headcanons which can all be found at the same spot, specifically for BES)

If I did it correctly you should be able to click the underlined places and they’ll send you right to the story!

Special Information

Request Information

Y'all will never believe what I forgot to add

RDR 2

How To Aim

Arthur Morgan x Reader

One Part

Th actual fic that started it all

————————————————————

HTTYD

Question? What Question?

Hiccup x Reader

Part 1

Word Count: 1.2k

Summary: Hiccup accidentally lets it slip that his father is expecting him to ask someone a question. Who could that someone be… and what’s the question?

Part 2

Word Count: 1.1k

Summary: You and Hiccup go out to figure out where that smokes coming from. You decide to return back to Berk to tell Stoick what you saw. However, Stoick had other plans in mind.

Somethings Off About That Boy

Hiccup x Reader

Part 1

Word Count: 1k

Summary: Hiccup has always been weird but lately he’s been acting… weirder than usual. What could he be hiding? Maybe you should try to find out on your own. Who knows, maybe he’s just going to the woods to make weird outfits.

Hiccup Haddock Headcanons

Word Count:459

Hiccup x reader headcanons : just general ones, no specific focus.

What Can Never Be

Hiccup Haddock x Reader

One Part

Word Count: 2.3k

Summary: You and Hiccup fight together during the battle against Drago Bludvist, what could go wrong?

Warning: a bit of angst

Trapped With You

Hiccup x Reader

One Part

Word Count: 3.4K

Warnings: if you’re prone to second hand embarrassment this one’s gonna be a doozy

A Dragon Trappers Fate

Eret son of Eret x Reader

Part 1

Word Count: 1.5k

Summary: You’re forced to tag along on the quest to find Hiccup after he went off, determined to find Drago. While you there you happen to stumble across a certain dragon trapper. You feel… weird when you look at him. Why?

Part 2

Word Count: 1.7k Words

Summary: you thought you’d only have to see Eret once and never again, that way that weird feeling you got when you looked at him would disappear. Well, turns out you need him again so you an find out where Drago Bludvist is located. No one better to interrogate than a dragon trapper.

Just Talk To Me!

Hiccup x Reader

One Part

Word Count: 2.8k

Summary: You and Eret have gotten pretty close due to your constant fighting practice. Of course, a certain chief isn’t too happy about it but he has a bit of trouble trying to tell you this.

The Outsider

Hiccup Haddock x Reader

(Shocker I Know)

Part 1

Word Count: 2.2k

Summary: You wound up on the shores of Berk after something… had happened to you. Thankfully someone had found you and reported your presence to the Chief.

————————————————————

Blue Eye Samurai

Spar With Me

Mizu x Reader

Part one

Word Count: 2.7k

Part Two

Word Count: 2.1k

Summary: Not much sparring actually happens this time. But you still somehow wind up in an embarrassing position.

Disclaimers: light language, has not been proofread, shorter and way more embarrassing than the last chapter

Part Three

Word Count: 3.2k

Summary: after dealing with a situation in town, Mizu helps you calm down a bit.

Disclaimer; a small bit of violence

Healing Takes Time

Injured! Mizu x Reader

One Part

Word Count: 4.9k

Summary: you’re just a simple healer minding your business, avoiding a fight that had broken out along your street when suddenly an extremely wounded strange man ends up at your door.

Disclaimers; very soft angst, nothing too bad.

Part Two

Jealousy Looks Good On You

Mizu x Jealous!Reader

One Part

Word Count: 3.6k

Summary: You and Mizu have been close friends for quite some time. You truly enjoyed each others company, that was until Taigen showed up.

Disclaimers; light language, has not been proofread, I am currently delirious from packing and moving all day but I had to write this out to feed the starved mizu lovers. A fair amount may not make sense at this point in time. My apologies ❤️

'Til The Caged Bird Sings

Mizu x Mixed! Fem! Reader

Part One

Part Two

Word Count: 3.9k

Content Warning: Contains violence and mentions of SA

Part Three

Cw: A bit bloody, mentions of SA

Headcannons

Mizu Dating Headcanons

Mizu Fluff Headcanons

Jealous Mizu Headcanons

BES Characters and pets

BES College Au

NSFW Mizu Headcanons

Fucking Brat

Mizu X reader

Part One

Disclaimer: light cursing obvious

Heated but no NSFW

Your Touch

Mizu x Reader

One Part

I lied, here's

Part Two

Fem! Reader

a bit heated, but doesn't go all the way

I Am No Coward

Mizu x Fem! Reader

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Art

Mizu Drawings 1

Mizu Drawings 2

Mizu Drawings 3

Mizu Drawings 4

Mizu Drawings 5

Mizu Doodle (w/ Progress picture)

Mizu Drawings 6

Mizu Drawings 7

Mizu Drawings 8

Mizu Drawings 9

————————————————————

ARCANE

Promises

Vi x Reader

Part One

Childhood Friends to Lovers

Part Two

Childhood Friends to Lovers...

Part Three

Childhood Friends to...?

Part Four

Friends?

Changes

Vi X Reader

Vi needs a hug

School Time Crush

Vi x Fem!reader

Vi is a dork

For Me?

Vi x Piltover! Reader

You did this for me?

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rekino2114 · 3 months ago

Note

ok hear me out female Zenitsu Agatsuma simping for male reader

Fem. Zenitsu simping for male reader

A/n:art by stormin on pinterest. Zenitsu's name will stay the same...I don't know if that makes sense but I can't think of anything

You took a deep breath as you looked around you. You were finally back after a long mission, and you wanted nothing more than to relax

"Oh hey y/n!, you're back, how was the mission?"

"Hi tanjiro, it went well. The demon wasn't that strong, but it was still kinda tough. Do you know where Shinobu is?"

"Oh, she's probab-"

"Y/NNNNNNNN!!!!!!"

You two turned to see the rest of the kamaboko squad coming towards you, especially zenitsu who ran and tackled you into a hug

"I'm so happy you're back, I thought the demon ate you"

"Come on, zenitsu, did you think so little of me? No demon that weak could take me down"

"Y-yeah sorry, you're so strong, the strongest demon slayer I've ever seen, no demon could defeat you"

You blushed slightly from the praise and was about to thank her when you heard a groan

"Hmph! W/n (wrong name) Isn't that strong, I bet I could beat him in no time"

"Shut up, boar head, you don't know what you're talking about, y/n would wipe the floor with you"

"Really? Now I'm interested, hey w/n let's spar!"

".....A-actually, I just came back from a mission and-"

"Yeah leave him alone, y/n's probably so tired"

"Who cares? I wanna fight"

"I-inosuke, zenitsu, please calm down"

As tanjiro tried his best to calm the argument between his friends, you walked near genya and kanao

"Hi man, good to see you again"

"Hi, genya you too. kanao, do you mind telling me where your sister is?"

"...........Shinobu should be in the butterfly mansion, she's tending to other injured slayers"

"You didn't even use your coin, that's great, I'm proud of you"

You pat the shorter girl's head as she smiled slightly and you left to go where she told you, while you couldn't hear the commotion going on behind you

"Waaaaaaahhhhh *sobs*"

"Z-zenitsu what's going on?"

"D-did you see what y/n did to kanao, he pat her head, he never did that to me *sobs* y/n loves kanao"

"That's not true, y/n does not love me"

"*sobs* How dare you say that? Why did he do that then?"

"Oh it was because I didn't flip my coin to answer him"

"...........really?"

"Yeah, I can confirm that's what happened"

The blonde girl completely changed her attitude and jumped in the air

"Yay! That means I still have a chance"

"Sorry zenitsu, but might I say something? If you love y/n this much, why don't you just tell him?"

"Are you crazy? If I tell him and he doesn't reciprocate then I'll never be able to look him in the eyes again"

"........I.....see"

"Coward"

"Hey!......anyway, w-where did y/n go?"

"The butterfly mansion"

"Really? Great!"

Zenitsu disappeared so fast her friends thought she used her thunder breathing for a second

"Why did she go there anyway?"

"No idea"

Meanwhile in the butterfly mansion Shinobu was checking your wounds while you lied on a bed

"Alright y/n, if you're OK with that, do you mind taking your shirt off for me? I need to check if you have other injuries"

"Sure thing"

You did as she told you, but in that moment, you heard a squeal and the sound of something falling

"Hm? What was that?"

"I don't know, I'll check later"

"Ok"

Meanwhile on the other side of the door tanjiro found zenitsu on the ground with a bloody nose

"S-so muscular, I think I'm in heaven"

"........we really need to work on that"

109 notes · View notes

sucroseswife · 1 year ago

Text

Seriously, don’t break the law

Wriothesley x gn! Reader [part 1]

Wriothesley with a reader who keeps breaking the law on accident, continuously getting multiple small sentences. Despite being a relatively good citizen, your run ins with Furina’s more obscure laws repeatedly lands you in the Fortress.

It started off small. Wriothesley didn’t pay much attention to your first arrival, as he receives many criminals every day. You were in for the small offense of naming your dog “furina”, thinking it would be cute.

He got a good laugh out of reading your trial record though. You had no attorney and no defense other than demanding why such a stupid rule was even in place (“it’s not even offensive!” You had cried to the court to no avail)

Poor Neuvillette said nothing, sentencing you to 2 nights at the fortress of meropide with a sigh

(He had found you later, offering a small apology and suggesting you read up on Fontaine’s… stranger laws to avoid such accidents again.)

During your two night stay, you only met the duke once—

You peaked your head into the infirmary, subtly trying to check if this was the right room. The cut on your hand throbbed with pain but you ignored it the best you could. Those machines were more dangerous than you thought. Inside were two figures, one significantly shorter than the other.

…was that a kid? You honestly couldn’t tell, but she looked no older than 11. Perhaps she was the child of that much taller figure who was- quite good looking, actually-

“Gonna stand there all day?” The good looking man asked, raising an eyebrow. Fuck.

“Sorry!” You said, rushing in. “Are you, uh… the nurse?”

Before he could respond, your attention was drawn to the smaller figure who swiftly took your hand, an expression of concern on her face.

“I am the head nurse, Sigewine. Please have a seat and I’ll start treatment right away!”

You couldn’t help but swoon over how cute the little melusine was, her professionalism contrasting her appearance. As she ran away to fetch some gauze, your eyes trailed back to mr. Tall Hot Man. He was observing you silently. When you met his gaze, he smiled in a wolfish manner.

“You’re y/n, I take it?”

You nodded. “And you are…?”

“Wrioth-” “He’s the Duke of the fortress of meropide, Wriothesley!” Sigewine butted in, beginning to clean your wounds. You paled. Had you really been thinking about your warden like a piece of meat? …maybe you were a criminal after all.

Wriothesley looked mildly annoyed at being outed as the Duke, but quickly let it go. His smile returned.

“I’ve read your file… seems you’re only with us for another day. We don’t usually see such short sentences around here.”

“Oh, yes… well I hardly committed a crime at all!” you said, anger and indignation returning to you once more.

“Hm…” he said, pretending to consider. “breaking the law is breaking the law, I’m afraid.” Wriothesley took great satisfaction n the way you spluttered, rushing to defend yourself.

“No really, what kind of laws are these?! Even the Iudex couldn’t explain— and the legal codex he gave me… ‘ketchup shall only be used as a condiment and not consumed by itself’? Are you serious?”

Wriothesley wanted to laugh at the image of the overworked Chief Justice having to enforce Furina’s questionable laws, but held back. Sigewine had finished her work, patting your hand gently.

“Y/n, please use this medicine to clean your wound twice a day. And don’t forget to change your bandages.”

You nodded. “Thank you, miss Sigewine. Am I all set then?”

She nodded happily. “Yep! Stay safe please!”

You smiled at Wriothesley, slightly sheepish after your outburst. “Sorry, please don’t extend my sentence for yelling.”

He didn’t look like he was going to extend anything, though. His expression was one of amusement and something else you couldn’t quite place. Before you could leave, he gently took your injured hand in his, inspecting the cleaned and covered wound. He made a small noise of disapproval before speaking.

“If you ever end up back here— which I hope will not happen… there’s no need for you to work at the production zone. Just find me and I’ll figure something out.”

You blushed slightly before nodding. “Alright”

Was that normal? Didn’t all prisoners have to work?

Well, it didn’t matter. Not like you were planning to get arrested again. You said your goodbyes to the very beautiful and generous duke before leaving the infirmary.

Sigewine immediately knew something was up. The girl is an expert in reading human emotions

From the moment you had stepped in, your eyes were practically glued to Wriothesley, and his glued to you

Not to mention how the duke’s demeanor had softened considerably as he continued talking to you… and his suggestion at the end?! She had never seen him offer anything like that before.

Yes, there was no doubt in Sigewine’s mind that his grace was more into you than he was letting on

It’s such a shame you would be released the next day, never to come back to the fortress again!

…or so she thought

Unfortunately for you, your bad luck with Fontaine’s law had only just begun.

Notes: I want him sooo bad omg. Ignore the fact that neuv would probably never sentence someone to meropide for a crime this small it’s for the plot ok

#wriothesley #wriothesley x reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact #fluff #comedy #crack

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strongheartneteyam · 8 months ago

Text

I wet you like water but she stained you like blood.

Pairing: widowed!dilf!jake sully x younger!female!human!reader

CW: slight sexual language, can be triggering to some, heartbreak, age gap kink, hurt/no comfort, age gap relationship problems, angst, reader reminiscing (pls tell me if I missed anything)

So, yeah... I never know when I'm gonna come back with another writing. My hiatus n working periods are all a bit unpredictable lol sorry. Anyways... I literally spent the whole night awake n I was struck by a sudden lightning of creativity early in the morning and I edited this chapter n wrote a bit more, but I still haven't slept at all, so, I apologize if some parts of this make no sense at all. I'll fix it when I can. Hope you guys like it <3 ily guys a whole lot :)) obs: this chapter is a shorter one.

Slightly proofread.

Chapter 4 𓆩♡𓆪

They say all's well that ends well

But I'm in a new hell every time you double-cross my mind

You said if we had been closer in age maybe it would've been fine

And that made me want to die

The idea you had of me, who was she?

A never-needy, ever-lovely jewel whose shine reflects on you

All Too Well - 10 minutes Version (Taylor Swift)

𓆩♡𓆪

It had been 1 year since the last time you saw Jacob Sully. Or Jakey, like you used to call him. The wound never healed. It still throbbed and bled every time you remembered the words he told you that dreadful day. "I think we should stop seeing each other." It felt like you would never get over him. How can one get over such an overpowering, raw feeling? He marked you forever, like a bruise that seemed to never disappear from your skin.

The flashback came like thunder in a storm, haunting your thoughts with a loud pain that echoed through your mind. What you told Jake that night.

“The truth is I love you. The truth is I can't take this anymore. I'm giving you my everything but you don't seem to be doing the same. You're still guarded.” There was a tense period of silence “Jake… I love you. But I don't think you feel the same.”

Maybe you shouldn't have said anything. Maybe if you had kept your mouth shut, he would still be with you.

Ugh!! Stop that, now, (y/n)! Some self love, please? You're better than this. You deserve better.

You tried to convince yourself of that, at least.

The pain was unbearable at times and almost easy to conceal at other times. It depended on how distracted with work or your studies you were. These days you ran to any distraction that could ease the perpetual angst that squeezed your heart inside its hands all the fucking time. It had been like that ever since Jake left you. What were you expecting anyway? You should have known you were never truly loved by Jake. The love of his life was Neytiri and it would always be, alive and walking through Pandora or dead and with Eywa.

It felt beyond weird to have to hear people talking about Jake and have to pretend he was a stranger to you, someone you barely knew, when he had actually left a mark so strong on you, a memory ingrained in your brain, a feeling, a pain buried inside your heart that made you want to scream and hit your head against a wall. That's how much it hurt.

You would never have his body against yours again, warming you up when it was cold, after you spent the whole day in that damn lab, studying Pandoran plants but all you could really concentrate on was how much you missed his reassuring, protective presence. He made you feel safe for the first time in your life. But now he is gone. Just like every single good thing you ever had in your life. But you know what? Maybe your mother was right, maybe love wasn't really something that could ever last forever.

Did Jake ever really make a real effort to be with you? Thinking back, it was extremely easy for him to just come to you and fuck you anytime he felt sad and lonely. What if you had just been a naive, dumb girl all this time? Were you mourning a love that never actually existed? It was always so hard to talk to him about his feelings for you, he never actually let you in, to be honest. All the time you two spent together, you were never able to know if he ever saw you as a partner or just a fuck buddy.

Oh, but the high… it was worth all the lows. The butterflies in your stomach every time you guys were almost caught fucking in the back of your work room by Norm. Eventually you guys had to tell him about your situationship because, oh well… he already knew what was going on, really. Norm is not a fool or a child. He could add 2 plus 2.

The adrenaline was worth all the tears. And, fuck… you would do it all over again in a heartbeat.

𓆩♡𓆪

Taglist:

@aonungsoneandonly

@coldbabyheroin

@fairyyrosee

@myh3artttt

@explosiongamora

@ufiy

@yeosxxx

@happyyappysworld

@avatar4eva

@henhouse-horrors

@jakesullyfatjuicypeen

@fujimoribaby

@layla2-49

@zoetrope1997

@yeosxxx

@luvv4j4ybe11

@bakugouswaif

@slytherdor01

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bonefall · 9 months ago

Note

instead of asking what parts of wind you’ll be getting rid of, i’ll instead ask what parts you’re keeping. the list is shorter then haha

FROSTPAW AND WHISTLEPAW.

Best part of Wind is the bond between these two, in fact, the entire plot about WindClan felt like it dropped out of the alternate universe where the books are good. The sudden dream of catastrophe, the way StarClan gave Frostpaw this sign on purpose to make them know she's legitimate, Whistlepaw injuring herself to try and save her little sister... Even the little details, like Nightcloud and Hootwhisker trying to drag the tree by the trunk, were neat to see.

I Dont Rewrite Arcs Until They Are Done BUT I do know that I'm going to elevate and expand what's going on with Frost and Whistle. They're fantastic.

Another small thing I'm actually planning on keeping is this exchange between Squilf and Jayfeather, which you'll probably find surprising since I'm so open about how much I dislike the way they've made Squilfstar less proactive;

In a better book, I think this could have been a GREAT moment.

What I dislike about this exchange is that Squilf is able to rebuke it, because the writers DO feel that Bramblestar was a good leader. They're trying to show that Squilfstar is going to act more "mature" (read: boring) with her role now, probably to make a point about how Bramblestar wasn't being "indecisive" for the 10 years we were stuck with him but "responsible." Basically, she gets the power and finds out it isn't so easy-- I'll even bet at some point in the next arc or two she'll become frustrated by someone acting the way she used to.

I've seen some people praising this, and like, it's not illegal to have bad taste. But I think this is an AWFUL thing to do with a character who could have finally caused interesting things to happen, on top of just feeling like contempt of criticism on behalf of the writers.

"Ohhhh they thought she would be more decisive than our beloved baby boy, WELL, WE'LL SHOW THEM. You will sit through 10 paragraphs of debate no matter WHO is in charge!!!"

But like I said....... in a better book, this could have been great. If this was a wake-up call for her.

Suddenly experiencing the full weight of responsibility upon herself, she stops making bold decisions. The complicated political situation in front of her, individual opinions of her Clan around her, and the wounded glares of the furious Brambleclaw below her are all acting like briar vines, pulling her down.

Even StarClan itself seems to have placed a weight on her, cats who she's followed faithfully and been punished by.

So Jayfeather, with all of the changes he has in BB, brawling with angels, speaking defiance to the stars, and pulling spirits down from the heavens, is the perfect cat to be honest with her.

I'm still trying to find a good way to describe the electricity between them in this moment. BB!Jayfeather once reached up his paw through the veil between life and death to grab her ankle and fetch her from her own trial, knowing that she wanted to keep living. He's part of whatever motion she took to remove Bramblestar from power. Her son, her cleric, her ally. How do I put these emotions into words?

"Did you come this far just to become someone else?"

Just... what a moment it could be. For this to be the second that Squilfstar realizes in spite of everything, Bramblestar's thorns still jab at her. That she has to move forward, DAMN the uncertainty, by being herself.

#bone babble #asc spoilers #But a LOT of this book is up in the air for BB #Depending on how big of an overhaul this becomes #I don't have SOLID plans yet to keep it loose #But I'm planning some pretty big changes

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sanjoongie · 1 year ago

Text

Breed! Chapter 2

Research

ღPairing: Reader (f) x Park Seonghwa x Kim Hongjoong x Choi San x Jung Wooyoung

ღGenre: smut with no plot (if you squint, there's fluff)

ღAu: alien!teez, s2l, established relationship

ღWord Count: 2,757

ღWarnings: bdsm (tied up San), voyeurism, exhibitionism, jerking off by machine, virgin! seonghwa, corruption kink, reader is always cock hungry okay, penetrative sex with no protection, breeding kink, using cum as lubricant, m licking m cock, colored alien cum!, territorial! hwa, m orgasm x 2, degradation kink

ღRated: 18+ MDNI

ღSummary: it's seonghwa's turn to experience how humans breed. San's restrained for safety reasons but two more aliens are introduced to observe. how better to learn how humans breed if not to feel it for yourself?

ღDedication~ @thelargefrye you can blame smalls for hongjoong and wooyoung being included @mejuii @downtoamagicalland for being my ever-supporting beta readers

ღChapter 1~ Abduction | Mini Masterlist | Chapter 3~ Experiment

Slithering white rope-like strands suddenly came out from the ground and wound themselves around San. San yelped at the sudden attack and started to pull and grunt in an attempt to save himself. "Seonghwa?"

"I will take up your offer of data gathering," Seonghwa replied.

San momentarily stopped struggling and you watched with horror as the ropes slithered along his skin, tightening against his bronze skin. "Wait, really?" His face was both surprised and curious, "You're gonna fuck her?"

You stood up quickly, your skirt falling against your skin with the change of gravity. "What are you doing to San?" You demanded. Suddenly the severity of being kidnapped by aliens was starting to dawn upon you.

"We have observed that human males tend to get territorial with their mates. It's better if we restrain him while I…" Seonghwa licked his lips, "...how did you put it? Fuck her pussy full of my cum?"

You whimpered. You knew Seonghwa didn't know how dirty those words were, but that somehow made their effect more lethal. "San, look what you started!"

San was completely immobile now, only his pecs and shoulders peeking beneath the ropes. "I'm sorry I like watching other men fuck you?" He mockingly apologized, making you scoff.

Seonghwa cocked his head, stepping towards you. "Do you not wish to volunteer? We can find another suitable unmated female--"

"No," You cut him off rather firmly. You cleared your throat when San began to snicker in amusement. "I mean, it would be more efficient to use me, wouldn't it? You won't have to waste the time to explain it to another."

That sharp foreign language punctuated the air again. Seonghwa sneered a bit but quickly smoothed his features. "The others will join us now."

"Others?" You squeaked, twisting your fingers together in anxiety, "More are coming to watch?"

San started to cackle, throwing his head back. "Oh, this is getting better."

A hole opened up above and a disc descended with two individuals on it. They were shorter in stature than Seonghwa but not by much. They also simply appeared as two human males; both had faces that you couldn't read.

"I thought only Hongjoong was coming to replace me?" Seonghwa said in a tone that seemed to you like he was not impressed there were two of them.

"Wooyoung insisted," Hongjoong corrected Seonghwa. "He wants to try after you."

You began to stutter and moved closer to Seonghwa. "Seonghwa?"

Hongjoong laughed dryly. "The female is amusing in thinking that you would save her from such a fate."

Seonghwa’s arm, nonetheless, curled around your waist. He tilted his head at you. "Why do you search for solace in my arms? Is it because I chose you to mate with? Was it my tongue inside of you? Is that the appeal of this animalistic urge you humans endure for offspring?" Seonghwa pulled you closer. "Do you seek protection from other males penetrating you?"

You cleared your throat again. "Actually, I was wondering if you would allow it."

Seonghwa blinked at you profusely and then Wooyoung and Hongjoong broke out into laughter. "She wishes for more cocks. Clearly the more diverse DNA she absorbs, the better her child will become."

San was snickering again and you sent him a scathing look. "San!"

Wooyoung strode over to your restrained boyfriend. "You no longer struggle. Is it because Seonghwa licked your cock? Do you feel a sense of connection with him?" Wooyoung turned back towards Seonghwa. "Was that another part of the breeding process? Perhaps another must respect the cock that penetrated previously."

San coughed and blushed and stared high, high up to the ceiling. "Why didn't I think of that?"

Seonghwa’s fingers tightened on your body. "I am next. I have observed and now I will attempt to replicate."

His robe dropped to his feet and you let out a low moan. His body was more slender and flatter than San's but your fingers smoothed over his chest in appreciation nonetheless. "I should remove my clothes as well."

Seonghwa’s eyes were hooded and his cock bounced angrily against his abdomen. "Is it the proper way to do so?"

"Me and San just fuck with clothes on because it feels more forbidden," You admitted quietly.

Seonghwa kept his voice to the same level yours was. "This is quite forbidden."

"You should speak louder," Hongjoong interrupted. "If you're going to replicate, we need to hear everything for our turns."

You swallowed and found there was no moisture in your mouth. "How…how many are there of you?"

"Six of us,” Hongjoong reported, “It is not known how many of us should learn. In case it is decided that without enough data, we cannot make a concise choice, so the more data we all gather, the better."

"Surely the more data the better," San said in a slight squeal, trying to sound serious like the aliens but beyond excited. Was it going to be a gang bang? San knew you had always secretly wanted that experience, although you were plenty happy just fucking San.

"Precisely, human," Hongjoong smiled dangerously.

"I shall begin!" Seonghwa announced.

His hands cupped your face and he brought his lips to yours. You held perfectly still as they danced along yours with such feather light touches that you whined and pushed up on your tippy toes. You wrapped your arms around Seonghwa’s neck and slanted your lips over his. His eyes widened in surprise before he closed them and let your tongue take over in dominance. You whimpered when he melted under your touch. You suddenly wanted Seonghwa everywhere at once.

"You don't have to prep me, like San did," You whispered against Seonghwa's lips, your foreheads pressed together, "His cum will work fine."

San moaned in his spot. "Fuck, that's hot," he said as he bit rather harshly on his lower lip.

Seonghwa turned you around easily. "Then shall you bend over for me?" He asked.

You shook your head and turned around back to face him. "We can try a different position."

Seonghwa's eyebrows furrowed. "You use more than one position?"

That's when San started to struggle in his restraints once again. "Let me out! I won't be bad, I'll just help!"

Wooyoung bounced on the balls of his feet, looking ecstatic that the show was about to begin. "He's not entered her yet. Let's be safe and keep you confined."

"I love having my dick squeezed but this is not the interpretation I prefer," San grumbled in an adorable pout.

Hongjoong snapped his fingers and suddenly San yelped and panted. "Wh-what are you doing?"

"Mingi thinks it's a good idea to acquire pure, unmixed cum from the male," Hongjoong supplied to the room.

"Who---hhhnnnnn--okay that--wow!" San was a whimpering mess and you knew that noise.

"San, are the ropes pleasuring you?" You demanded.

"Your mate will be fine, human," Seonghwa insisted, drawing your attention back to him. "What do we do next?"

"Well, I guess--" You managed to pull your eyes away from your boyfriend whose features were contorted in pleasure. "I'll need to wrap my legs around your waist--!"

Seonghwa placed his hands under your ass and leveled your lower half with his cock. "Like this?" He asked with raised eyebrows.

"Wait," Hongjoong commanded, stepping closer. "I wish to observe you penetrating the female."

"Female or human is kinda clinical to refer to me as, don't you think?" You whined pathetically.

"The male called you Babe?" Seonghwa tilted his head cutely.

You shook your head. "That's what San addresses me as. I want something different for you. Please?"

Seonghwa looked at a loss for words, face truthfully unsure. "What do I do?"

"Interesting. The female seems to want a further connection with you, Seonghwa," Hongjoong observed out loud.

"Mingi, adjust the bindings," Wooyoung said from his spot beside San still. "Let's see his breeding in action. We can collect more data with him outside of the pussy."

San choked again. The ropes adjusted until they revealed the ropes convulsing around San's very happy cock. "Fuck, I thought you were the only one that was going to have fun after this," San said, clearly directing his words towards you.

Hongjoong abandoned his post near Seonghwa and walked towards Wooyoung and San. "Figure it out, Seonghwa. I will begin the ritual by licking the male's cock and then yours."

"What?!" San and Seonghwa exclaimed at the same time.

"But I thought I was going next!" Wooyoung protested.

"Is there something you adore in your world?" You asked gently.

"There is a moon that orbits our planet. It is the most beautiful pink color I have ever had the pleasure of viewing," Seonghwa responded solemnly.

You pressed your lips inwards. "Will you call me your moon, then?"

"My moon," Seonghwa tried out the words carefully.

You smiled at the cute moment before giggling as San cursed loudly, which is usually what he did when he got his dick sucked. Hongjoong walked back to your side with a thoughtful expression. "He tastes interesting." Hongjoong locked eyes with Seonghwa, "Will you taste differently?"

Seonghwa let out a garbled gasp as Hongjoong gripped Seonghwa’s cock between the two of you and licked the head daintily. "Different but not in a bad way," Hongjoong observed. When Seonghwa simply stared at him in shock, Hongjoong directed Seonghwa with a jerk of his chin, "Focus, Seonghwa, you have to fuck the female!"

"My Moon," Seognhwa tried out the nickname again, "I'll use San's cum as lubricant and fuck you?"

You nodded eagerly and it all started up again. Seonghwa slid into you, with no restrictions. The look of pure enrapture on Seonghwa’s face made you realize, somewhat belatedly, that this was Seonghwa’s first time. He came at it with such an analytical mind that it made you forget he had never had sex before.

"I have discovered why humans copulate in such a way," Seonghwa said with reverence. "This pussy is so good."

Hongjoong stared up at Seonghwa, eyes studying the taller alien's faces. "Explain."

"The warmth and the wetness give unfathomable pleasure and comfort." Seonghwa's hands tightened on your ass and then began to move you up and down on his dick, like you were his own personal fleshlight. The moan he let out, the way his eyebrows furrowed like he was in pain, Seonghwa was pussy drunk on his first pussy.

"I told you there is no greater pleasure than fucking that pussy," San spoke up.

"Speed it up, Mingi," Wooyoung commanded, "He’s close."

"I don't think--!" San's back bowed as the ropes contracted and released around his dick. He was a babbling mess at that point and Wooyoung was quite interested in the whole display.

Hongjoong gripped Seonghwa’s jaw and turned his head. "Your mind is unraveling, what is wrong with you?"

Seonghwa shook his head and fucked you enthusiastically. The way he was hitting the end of you was making you feel some type of way as well. "You must experience it! That is the only explanation."

Hongjoong stepped back and was about to remove his robe. Seonghwa snarled almost animalistically towards Hongjoong, like he was snapping his jaws at Hongjoong to stay away from his meat. “You will not interrupt me until I am done.”

Hongjoong smiled pleasantly. “Seems like it is not just the human males that become territorial. Theory confirmed.”

Seonghwa appeared stuck between the pleasure he was experiencing and his role as researcher for data. His head swung towards San’s direction. "How do you STOP fucking this pussy? How do you not procreate all the time?"

San laughed and sighed at the same time. "My point exactly. I tell her all the time that it’s a crime we don’t just stay in bed all day and fuck."

Seonghwa sent you a wounded look. "How dare you deny him this?"

You laughed in amazement. “I guess males are all the same, regardless of the planet they are born on.”

Seonghwa grew serious. “I will complete my research now.”

Hongjoong clucked his tongue to the roof of his mouth. “You’re starting to sound human. Be more patient! I would have you observe how you’re feeling more.”

Seonghwa shook his head, looking almost nervous. “I don’t believe I have a choice.”

You couldn't help but smile in pride. “Are you going to come so quickly, Seonghwa? Are you that pussy drunk that you can’t help but come inside of me just like that? I didn’t know it would be so fun to fuck a virgin.”

San’s cries began to crescendo and you watched, along with Wooyoung, as San tossed his head back and spurted across the room. His noises were like music to your ear, only making you even wetter, impaled on Seonghwa’s dick. San panted as he came down from his high but still he was not released. “Can I take these rope things home with me when you release us?”

Hongjoong scolded him, “Wooyoung, you were supposed to collect his cum! This is not a leisurely pursuit!”

You clenched down on Seonghwa and he let out a choked gasp at the feeling. “Please, do not do that! I am already close.”

You decided to play into your devious tendencies. Teasing Seonghwa was almost too much fun. “Come for me, Hwa. Fill me up with your cum. I want to be the first one to receive your cum. I want to be the first one to watch your pleasure written over your face. Come for me, Hwa.”

“Hwa?” Seonghwa’s eyebrows furrowed as if he was feeling intense pain, “Th--” He made the most wonderful moan as he came for the first time. His features were etched in bliss and your eyes captured it all.

You bit down on your lip. You thought that you couldn't get any wetter yourself, but regardless of all the cum that was filling you up right now, you quickly knew you were going to get addicted to seeing these aliens come for the first time within you.

“And?” Hongjoong prompted, not even giving Seonghwa a moment to breath.

Seonghwa ignored him and instead focused on you. “Is it customary to shorten your partners name when speaking to them during the fucking process?”

You felt your heart flop a bit. Who knew Seonghwa could be so cute? “It just felt natural. Did you like it?”

“It--” Seonghwa cleared the potential whine from his throat, “It urged me to come.”

You smiled happily. “Good.”

“Good?” Seonghwa frowned in confusion.

Hongjoong began to huff at being ignored. “This was an utter failure. Seonghwa you can remove yourself from the female. Wooyoung, you will send down Mingi to observe, you’ve been useless.”

Seonghwa pulled out of you and it was your turn to be confused. Green, shimmering, viscous liquid pooled out of you, mixed with San’s pure white cum. “Oh,” was all that Seonghwa could say.

Hongjoong’s eyes were on your cunt, watching everything. “Our cum is a different color than the humans. Interesting. Mingi, make sure that’s recorded. We will extract Seonghwa’s sample another day.”

“I will be back,” Seonghwa whispered to you before carefully settling down on your feet. Even as he picked up his robe and put it back on and walked towards the disc that would take him upwards, he still sent lingering looks back to you. Had the alien formed a bond with you since you were his first?

“What about me?” San pouted. He did tend to get clingy after a climax.

Hongjoong’s eyes moved up and down San’s restrained body, San’s soft cock still out of his confines. “Two climaxes should have subdued you.”

Wooyoung snickered and drew Hongjoong’s attention. “I told you to leave,” Hongjoong commanded.

Wooyoung kicked at nothing, sulking immediately. “I’m going after you!” he shouted rebelliously as he walked to the disc to join Seonghwa.

“You’re going to be as useless as Seonghwa, I can already tell,” Hongjoong muttered under his breath.

You held up a hand as Hongjoong made to disrobe. “I need a break. Please. Water and food would be appreciated.”

Hongjoong pulled back up his robe and you were almost sorry you said something. Hongjoong almost had as nice of a chest as San. “Very well. You should gather your energy and then we will come back. I will find out if there is no greater pleasure than fucking your pussy.”

Somehow the sentence coming out of Hongjoong’s mouth felt more like a threat than a promise, but it made you even wetter. New kink unlocked

ღChapter 1~ Abduction | Mini Masterlist | Chapter 3~ Experiment

Tag list: @hijirikaww @flowerboykun @kitten4sannie @starillusion13 @flurrys-creativity @stardragongalaxy @a-soft-hornytiny @the-flavour-of-deaths-ass

#kvanity #kwritersworldnet #pirateeznet #thekpopuniverse #cultofdionysusnet #ateez smut #park seonghwa smut #choi san smut #atz smut #seonghwa smut #san smut #san x reader #seonghwa x reader #topaz's work #ღatz #alien!teez #happy birthday sannie bb

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nyoomerr · 1 year ago

Note

For a prompt:

If you could take one scene from svsss to 'fix-it' what would it be?

my favorite place for fix-its is as a jin-lan city divergence, just like half the population of this fandom, LOL. i've done fix-its there a couple times now, and i want to try my hand at a "the trial happens" fix-it fic sometime in the future, but there's no way i'd be fitting that into a drabble length ahaha 💦

so in the meantime, here's a shorter thing, set when lbh is trying to cure sqq of the sower's rash!

---

In Shen Qingqiu’s defense, he’s had a very, very stressful day.

Meeting Luo Binghe two years too early, getting accosted by a bunch of no-good Huan Hua upstarts, getting infected with the sower’s curse - there’s just been a lot, okay! By the time he’d made it here, cornered in a dingy alleyway with Luo Binghe looming over him, he’d already used up a large amount of his daily rationed tolerance for bullshit! His face had already started to crack!! He wanted a break!!!

He did not get a break. Instead he got Luo Binghe, suddenly larger than Shen Qingqiu himself, shoulders broad in a way that made his height look far more becoming on him than it had when he was 17 and on the edge of the abyss, a beanpole that had just recently grown tall enough to look Shen Qingqiu level in the eyes.

Instead he got Luo Binghe, as observant as ever but with far less respect for his Shizun, catching Shen Qingqiu’s wrist and running his thumb over the rash caused by the sower’s curse.

Instead he got Luo Binghe, his ears a bit too pointed for a human and his teeth more like fangs in his mouth, raising his own hand to those deadly teeth of his and tearing into his flesh, and -

Shen Qingqiu had a defense, remember!! Stressful day, no breaks!!

- and Shen Qingqiu can’t help himself, and raises his free hand up to Luo Binghe’s mouth, too, pressing the pad of one thumb up into one too-sharp canine.

“They’re so much sharper than I thought…” Shen Qingqiu mumbles to himself, as if he’s making a simple field observation and not sticking his hand in his future murderer’s mouth.

The hand Luo Binghe has wrapped around Shen Qingqiu’s other wrist tightens, and Shen Qingqiu freezes.

“Haha,” he says, and then very quickly tries to extract his hand from Luo Binghe’s mouth.

But then - stressful day, no breaks, very good excuse!! - Shen Qingqiu doesn’t actually drop his hand all the way back to his side. Instead, he finds himself hovering useless fingers over the bleeding wound Luo Binghe had torn into the palm of his hand.

“...Shizun?” Luo Binghe asks, sounding a bit like a lost kid and not at all like a blackened emperor on the path to revenge.

Shen Qingqiu lets his fingers make contact, sliding gently through the hot mess of blood dripping from Luo Binghe’s palm. Luo Binghe shivers under his touch.

“...You shouldn’t let it bleed like this,” Shen Qingqiu says. Luo Binghe’s blood is precious, after all - watching fat crimson beads of it fall to the ground beneath them feels like a waste.

Beneath Shen Qingqiu’s fingers, the wound knits itself back together. He supposes that makes sense - there’s blood all over Luo Binghe’s hand and wrist, and Shen Qingqiu’s fingers as well, now. There’s no need for him to keep the wound open; he can use any of the existing blood to force down Shen Qingqiu’s throat.

…Fuck, Shen Qingqiu really forgot to be scared of that, just then!!

(In front of him, Luo Binghe is thinking very, very hard. He’s remembering every moment of his childhood when his Shizun had made an ill-advised move to get closer to some beast or another just to get a better look; he’s remembering the feeling of his Shiun’s fingers in his mouth, curious and testing.

Luo Binghe… perhaps has a better idea than his current plan. After all, if his Shizun won’t take him back willingly, then Luo Binghe will simply take his Shizun back, himself - and what better way to attract Shen Qingqiu than with a beast?)

Beneath Shen Qingqiu’s fingers, Luo Binghe shifts his hand, moving it to be palm-down. Shen Qinqgiu frowns, watching Luo Binghe’s blood drip onto the ground faster, now, but -

But then Luo Binghe’s fingers do something - odd. They were human looking just now, Shen Qingqiu was sure of it, but now Luo Binghe’s nails are black and pointed and curled like claws, and his fingers are shaped oddly up to the first knuckle. It almost looks like…

Shen Qingqiu slides his fingers down from Luo Binghe’s palm to his fingers, taking a couple of them firmly in hand and pressing gently at the base of the claws there.

Fascinatingly, Luo Binghe’s claws extend out like a cat’s.

“Oh,” Shen Qingqiu says, unconsciously tugging Luo Binghe’s hand up to his face for a closer look. He doesn’t remember the Luo Binghe of PIDW ever having this feature. “Where do they go, normally?”

“If Shizun comes back to this disciple’s rooms with him, I’ll cut off a finger for you to dissect,” Luo Binghe says, as if that’s a completely normal and sane thing to suggest.

Shocked, Shen Qingqiu drops Luo Binghe’s hand and rears backwards, pressing into the dirty alleyway wall behind him. Luo Binghe stares down at him, expression twisted up.

“Is this disciple so despicable that Shizun doesn’t even want that?” Luo Binghe asks, voice bitter. “Which part is so undesirable to Shizun? Following me anywhere at all, or being made to inspect any part of this disciple so closely?”

“Obviously that isn’t what’s wrong, here!” Shen Qingqiu gasps, offended and terrified in equal measure. “What kind of - don’t cut off your fingers to use as bait!”

“Ah,” Luo Binghe says ruefully. “So I couldn’t fool you after all. Was that it, then? Shizun took offense to my attempts to lure him in? Or was it all of it, after all?”

Shen Qingqiu gapes at him, then finally remembers he has a fan and very quickly snaps it open to hide behind. What kind of person wouldn’t take offense to being lured into a trap, ah! If a rabbit knew it would be skinned and eaten once caught, it also wouldn’t like any sort of bait, no matter how tasty!

Aloud, Shen Qingqiu says nothing. Luo Binghe’s expression grows more pinched, his lips pulling up in a sneer, and -

- and ah, his teeth are even sharper, now! Shen Qingqiu hadn’t even noticed!! Had that happened when Luo Binghe had released whatever sort of glamor made his nails look human, too? Was it a physical modification, or only an illusion? Did it break if someone tried to touch it? But, no, Shen Qingqiu himself had touched Luo Binghe’s teeth, and they hadn’t seemed out of sorts, so -

“Do your teeth retract too?” Shen Qingqiu can’t help but ask.

Luo Binghe lets out a frustrated sigh. “Shizun can experiment with this one all he wants, if he would just -!”

Shen Qingqiu peers out over the edge of his fan carefully. Luo Binghe has been acting seriously, seriously OOC for a blacked demon lord this whole time, and it leaves Shen Qingqiu feeling off balance. Should he try to talk his way out of this? Should he just go back to trying to run for it?

Luo Binghe narrows his eyes at Shen Qingqiu. “If Shizun tries to run again, I’ll release the whole glamor and stand in the middle of the town until you come get me.”

“Binghe!” Shen Qingqiu exclaims. “Don’t be foolish, you - this master hasn’t told anyone about -”

“I know,” Luo Binghe says. “So either Shizun would be able to see a demon that is willing to let him dissect it, or someone else would come along and do that very thing but with far less precision.”

Shen Qingqiu raises his fan higher, nervous. “Don’t talk about being attacked like that,” he scolds.

Luo Binghe hums, pressing in closer to Shen Qingqiu’s space. “Shizun’s right, of course - anyone but him would ruin this disciple if they tried to take me apart. They wouldn’t be delicate enough; they’d ruin all the best parts to study.”

“That’s not -”

“So Shizun should be the one to take charge,” Luo Binghe says. “If you won’t follow me back to my room, I’ll follow you back to yours.”

Shen Qingqiu hesitates. He doesn’t really want to dissect Luo Binghe, of course - he has enough trouble as it is repressing the feeling of Xiu Ya slicing into the flesh of Luo Binghe’s chest from years ago. But he - he does want to know how Luo Binghe’s teeth work.

Shen Qingqiu’s room… is in the same building where Liu Qingge is staying, too. Hadn’t Shen Qingqiu first wanted to hug that battle-obsessed idiot’s thigh to get a strong protector for the future? If Luo Binghe tried anything, couldn’t he just call for help from his own room?

…This is very, very stupid. Shen Qingqiu is glad he has his very excellent and reasonable excuses from earlier.

“If Binghe wants,” Shen Qingqiu says aloud.

Luo Binghe grins at him wide enough that Shen Qingqiu can make out the odd way Luo Binghe’s teeth sit in his mouth, as if he has a second row of them.

Fascinating, he thinks, and reaches up to once more stick his hand into the mouth of his most deadly disciple.

Luo Binghe opens wider, letting Shen Qingqiu look, and starts quietly herding them back to the building the Cang Qiong delegation is staying in. It’s… ah, it’s probably fine, if Shen Qingqiu could just look a bit more…

#okok i'm killing it at the “keep these drabbles short” thing now im killin it #ty for the prompt!#svsss #scum villain's self saving system #bingqiu #fic drabble

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hitomisuzuya · 2 years ago

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NSFW Yandere!Fatui! Scaramouche x Fatui!fem! reader. Headcanons. Smut. Scara falling in love. Totally self indulgent. Obsessive and possessive behavior. Mind break. Choking.

a/n: Good evening, everyone. Requests should be open in about 6 days❤️ Please enjoy.

Tagging @xxventiswindblumexx @kichikichiko

Scaramouche had a lot of pride.

So when he first saw you, it shook him up. Rattled him to his very core.

The first thing he noticed about you was your height. You were shorter than him. It annoyed him.

The second was your scent. All it took was for a soft breeze to ruffle against your hair for you scent to assault his senses. You smelt so good it disgusted him, like lavender and jasmine.

The third was sound of your voice. It was like soothing honey, sweet in his ears. A pleasant sound in his ear drums. He hated that he liked it.

And then there was that thing you did that drove him instantly crazy. Whenever you thinking or trying to concentrate, you would always mess with your lower lip somehow, commonly biting it to help you think.

He hated that he noticed you always seemed to do it around him, especially when he spoke. It was like you were flustered. He didn't know when he started to enjoy making you flustered.

Your smile was what shook him up the most. It was gentle and accepting, without any pity. Scaramouche had never seen anyone smile like that. Much less at him.

He supposed his obsession started when you stood up to him for the first time.

But he couldn't be sure because now he was always looking for ways to have your attention. Having you transferred onto his squad. By now he was sure you noticed some things disappearing from your quarters. Some clothes, some books, other miscellaneous items. He did that when he felt you weren't giving him enough attention.

It would force you to seek him out and give him attention. It was a common habit he used because he wanted your attention all the time.

He hated that he always wanted you around him every second of the day.

But he didn't hold it against himself much. You were a pest, a nuisance bothering him. But he needed to see you, smell you, to find some way to brush up against you accidentally on purpose and then snap at you that you should watch where you are going because you bumped into him.

Especially to hear your voice. Which is what he enjoyed hearing the most when you stood up to him the first time.

Scaramouche had been knocking around his subordinates out of frustration. Stupid people problems, not his.

But you. You had the nerve to go around tending to their wounds. He didn't understand you at all. "Quit it, they don't deserve the treatment. Stupidity is undeserving of your disgusting consideration."

"Stop barking, Scara. You are the one saying everyone always runs their mouth around you and yet you run yours just as much like a petulant brat."

You'd called him Scara. A pet name. He hated pet names. But he would love it if you called him pet names. He hated that too.

Call him Master instead.

Bruises of possession were starting to form on your skin. Now he was taking advantage of your obvious feelings for him. He liked to use them as a weapon against you just so he could kiss you and taste you. But it never went beyond that. Scara was one to take intimacy slowly. It was a deep thing for him and he was already reeling around you.

Things have an interesting way of backfiring on Scaramouche.

The first time is when he slipped up and admitted his feelings for you indirectly in front of his subordinates. You were patching them up again.

"I thought I told you to cut that out. I am starting to think you are deaf. If you keep coddling them like that, they are going to fall in love with you like dedicated dogs, drooling all over you."

He said that like he wasn't drooling over you already. He actually wiped his mouth a little. "I don't understand you. You are disgustingly kind and considerate. You are a filthy killer for the Fatui with enough power to make you a Harbinger, but you don't seem interested. Why? You would have even more power to fling around like you do."

"I don't want to hear you running your mouth about dogs when you are the one barking again, Scara. Admit to me that you are jealous. It will make it easier and less painful to watch."

Your response gave him such a thrill. He wanted to grab you and kiss you. Fuck you into knowing your place.

"Shut your mouth, slut." He thought he saw your eyes light up in an aroused way. Oh? Really?

Scaramouche needed to mark you up a little more after that. He needed everyone to see his obsessive possession for you bleed onto your skin a little more, deeper and darker than the last.

People were already starting to talk. They were saying you were his personal fuck toy, one specially kept by the Harbinger. And in a way, they were right, you were going to be his fuck toy.

The second backfire was worse than the first.

You'd walked on him while he had a fit of sexual frustration. He'd thinking so many lewd things about you.

Scaramouche was thinking how what you would look like while he made you fall apart tongue fucking you, begging, crying, and whining for him to let you cum, riding his tongue, your thighs squeezing desperately on the either side of his head.

At that point his hand wasn't enough.

But there you were, handing yourself to him on a silver platter for him to finally take.

You were all he ever thought about.

Scaramouche knew your mind was very fragile and broken just like his. It was time to break your mind into a thousand little fragments, shattering easily underneath his feet while he fucked you.

He would remold you to better suit him.

"Strip! Get over here and help me. Hurry up, slut, I don't have any patience left!"

You did just as you were told. What a good girl he already had.

Scaramouche was harsh with his degradation.

He pinned you down on the bed, one hang squeezing your thigh tight enough to bruise while he fingered you. You could only moan and buck your hips into his fingers.

And he never shut up. He knew you enjoyed the sound of his voice. And that he knew you liked being degraded, he used both of those qualities against you purely for his own benefit. And for your pleasure too, of course.

"You were so eager to open your legs like a whore for me. I bet you would done that on the first day we met and believe me I wanted to. Don't you know that I have been obsessively stalking you for months, you stupid fucking slut?!"

You screamed and babbled incoherent sentences.

Break break break. Shatter shatter shatter. The fragments of your mind cracked easily for him.

Scaramouche was laying into you harder than he intended, fucking the frustration he felt with the fact that you'd forced him to take possession on a whim, a snap decision of passion that he couldn't control.

You were just that fucking irresistible that he couldn't fight it anymore. He was amazed that he held out as long as he did.

Scaramouche was dizzy and even more obsessed when you let him wrap his hand around your pretty throat and squeeze. You trusted him that much. Instantly. Even begging for more when he let go.

"Harder, Scara, it makes me see stars! I'm close! Please let me cum!" You pleaded.

"Call me Master, slut! And then I will give you the privilege of cumming on my cock like the slut that you are!"

With every thrust and harsh word, his grip on your body increased. He wanted to swallow you whole, his fingers shattering your mind and molding you to him as he blew the fragments into dust in the wind.

You stopped hearing yourself after you started screaming his name. You'd so tired of always thinking and overthinking. Your mind was a blissful blank quiet. You did call him Master. The more you screamed it while you orgasmed the tighter his possessive grip on you got.

Quiet quiet.

"That's right, slut. Stop thinking and serve your purpose as my cock sleeve. It's your purpose now! You learned your place quickly!"

You were all his now.

It's what you always wanted.

#genshin impact #genshin smut #fem!reader #genshin headcanons #yandere scaramouche #scaramouche smut #scaramouche x y/n #scaramouche x reader #scaramouche x you #suzu after dark

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carrots-bear · 8 days ago

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Fire and Rain, written by Bear(aka me)

A rottmnt au where Donnie is the last survivor of the Kraang-pocalypse and is sent back in time. (More or less the peepaw leo aus, except it's donnie.)

Prologue

A tall, green figure crashed into another green figure with a large, clonky, prosthetic, knocking him out of the way of a Kraang laser. (This second figure was also shorter than the first one.)

“Leonardo, I swear, if it were not for us, then you would have died already,” the first figure said, tears forming in his eyes. He had just watched his little brother disintegrate, giving all of himself to send Casey Junior back in time, so that there might be a future that his stupid, selfless sensei doesn’t lose an arm, that April could have lived longer, that Raphael could have lived longer, that Donatello could still see out of his right eye, have somewhat adequate hearing without an aid, have his lower leg, and actually have his ninpo. I mean is that really so much to ask for? thought the Donnie, as he fought off Kraang dogs and tried to find shelter for them. Well, apparently the universe said yes, yes it is.

He was yanked back to the present when Leo said, “Heh, yeah. But you know that that’s just as true for you, Donald.” He was wearing the dumbest smirk— and bleeding an extremely concerning amount alright alright…alright.

Donatello scanned the area with his mono-ggle¹, and when he found somewhere sufficient, he dragged his brother over, going unnoticed by any enemies, I hope… He laid Leonardo down in the rubble gently, making sure that no stray pieces of metal could further injure him. ”Hold tight, Leo. I am going to get you all fixed up.” But then he looked closely at the wound, and his face tightened in a sort of grimace.

“That bad, ay?”, Leo said, still sporting that same old, dum-dum smirk. He winced when Donnie put pressure on the wound. “Okay, yeah. It’s that bad.”

“Of course it is, you dum-dum! Those Kraang hounds banged you up; it’s a miracle you’re still alive…”, Donnie said as he shook his head.

“How will I ever survive?”, Leonardo said, throwing his head back dramatically and putting his hand up to his forehead.

Donnie’s jaw clenched and he froze a moment, then resumed his work, saying, “Without proper medical attention… you might not.” He grimly whispered the last part, as if doing so would make it less true.

Leo put his hand down and faced towards his twin, though his eyes were looking down at his wound. “I know. But I know that you’ll be with me when it happens, and that was one of my ‘the-Great-Master-Leonardo-is-dying!’ requirements. So yay! You accidentally met one of my requirements, Dee!” He said it with a smile on his face, and Donatello didn’t know how.

“There, that should do,” Donnie said, wiping the crimson liquid on his hand onto a piece of rusty metal nearby. “And don’t joke about that,” he snapped coldly.

“Out of curiosity and boredom though—“

“Boredom?”

Donnie glared and sat down more comfortably beside his twin as he continued. “Yes, boredom; listen to my small talk question. Deep inhale and sigh. What are slash² were your other ‘re-qui-re-ments’?” (In case you were wondering, yes, air-quotes were heavily implied.)

“Well…”, and the brothers talked together for a good long time. Donatello checked how secure their shelter was so that he could sleep and ‘Nardo take watch. Yes, both realized how risky that was, putting the person who was slowly bleeding out on watch, but Donnie made Leo promise to wake him up if anything was happening.

• * • * Two weeks later * • * •

The brothers were on the run from the Kraang. Both were completely unsurprised; this was the Kraang-pocalypse, as some liked to call it, after all. At the moment, Donnie’s heated compression sock for his real foot had stopped working— again, so that’s working out great form him, slowing their pace.

Leo coughed, the running not being very good for his current state. “Donnie, I have a plan, but you might not like it.” He stumbled as he coughed again.

It didn’t take long for Donnie to know what Leo was thinking. ”Oh no, uh-uh, nope, not gonna happen. I don’t know exactly what you’re planning, but I do know it’s gonna be that load of self-sacrificing dirt again.”

As he spoke, Donnie pressed a button on his wrist-tech to activate a cloaking device. They got ahead of the Kraang long enough for Donnie to locate a safe place and get there unnoticed. Donnie eased Leo down. He could tell by what his mono-ggle was telling him, Leo was… Donnie was going to lose… Donnie was going to be an only ‘child’ very soon. His eyes wanted to tear up, but Donnie didn’t want to cry, so he forced them back.

Leo was having trouble breathing as it was, so it didn’t help the situation that he was about to give a speech to his twin. “Donnie, I know you know I’m dying. It’s okay! I have a plan remember?”

“Is that plan you dying, the Kraang killing everything, and sparing me to make my life miserable?”

“Well, I mean, I would prefer it if I could live too. If there was another way, I’d take it, but there’s not. I want you to see the good timeline, so you can tell me about it once you die, probably sitting in a rocking chair and solving the ancient puzzle of— The Rubix Cube. You have to promise me that you’ll come back to us when you die, alright? Not a bunch of Master and Uncle wanna-be’s.”

There was that smirk again. Oh, that smirk. Donnie was going to miss it. Welp, here come the water-works. You couldn’t even hold it in for his— “Wait, why didn’t I point this out before? What do you mean? You can’t actually be planing to send me to the same timeline as Casey Junior. You can barely use you ninpo in this state. That killed Mikey, it’s going to kill you too. I didn’t want to watch my family die before, and I still definitely don’t want to now. Please don’t do this, Leo.” Yup, the water-works have arrived everyone! Aw man, why?! Donatello felt his purple mask absorb the tears. They were coming in an onslaught; it would soon look like he just dipped the lower half of his mask in water. He sniffed and looked away from his brother. Donnie was holding his twin’s hand, just to make sure he was still there; he squeezed it, craving any sort of comfort, yet still unsure how to ask for it.

“Aw, Dee. C’mere.” Leo opened his free arm for a hug, and Donnie gladly took the opportunity, knowing it would likely be the last time for him to do so. They stayed like that for a bit, hugging and crying. Then Leonardo pulled back, slightly reluctantly, and said, “If you want, you can take my mask and katanas…”

Dee looked at his twin’s face for a moment before reaching up to untie the blue mask. He wrapped it around his right hand like a fingerless glove, just above a black choker on his wrist. Then he reached for the strap for the blue-hilted twin katanas.

“Does this mean you’re on board with my plan?”

“I know you’ll never let me hear the end of it if I don’t go along,” Donnie said grimly as he strapped on the sheath.

“Heh, you—“, Leo was interrupted by another fit of coughs before he could continue. “You got that right, is what I was going to say.” Donatello finished getting his belongings together and thought, My twin is actually insane. I mean, this could work, since Leo does have portaling abilities, and Mikey did it, so I suppose it’s feasible… “You ready, Don?”, Leo asked, interrupting Donnie’s thoughts.

“Yeah, just a few things first. One:” Donnie leaned forwards and hugged his leader again; he hugged back. Donnie pulled back and said, “Two: I know I don’t say it a lot, because, well, y’know, but I hope you know that I do love you, ‘Nardo.”

“Aw, I love you too, Don-Tron.” His tone was playful, but his words and undertone were loaded, so that helped Donnie a lot with suppressing his tears for number three.

“And three….I don’t blame you for this ‘Nardo. Any of this. I never have. The world was resting in the hands of an egotistical child who didn’t even know what was at stake, not to mention you weren’t the one who wanted to open the portal in the first place. We can definitely blame this one on the Foot. I’ll say this one more time, though, because you don’t look like you believe me.” Donatello rested a hand on his brother’s shoulder and said, “I don’t blame you.”

Leo’s eyes filled with tears, and one slipped down his cheek as he said, “I…Thank you, Donnie. I really needed to hear that.”

“I know,” Donnie stated matter-of-factly as he leaned forwards and touched his own forehead to his brother’s as a last goodbye. “Okay,” Donnie sighed. “Now I’m ready.”

Leo nodded and concentrated hard on his ninpo. He summoned all his strength before there was a burst of light, and a crackling, swooshing, blue portal appeared, though it was small at this stage. Well, at least for a seven-foot three-inch tall mutant who had a few extra weapons that he probably didn’t need on him. Leo let out one last battle cry before he disappeared, disintegrating into thin air. Another tear left Donatello’s eye as he watched the portal grow. He put his bō staff in its sleeve and took out the twin katanas, then looked around at the demolished place he had called home all his life. “Good-bye New York of twenty-forty-four. Sigh.” As he stepped into the portal he murmured, “New York, what a town,” and disappeared into— not next week, but roughly one-thousand-one-hundred and forty-four weeks previous³.

_____________

Prologue is out!!!🥳 I have not told the internet about this au, barely at all, yet. I've already written a few chapters, but I'm saving those for a bit.

So, a few things I'd like to note:

Everything is platonic/familial unless otherwise stated.

It is probably going to be extremely hurt-comfort/comfort/fluffy despite it being Donatello-centric, and the main characters being reptiles;) [ho-ho, ha-ha, he-he, I am the Queen of Daughter Dad-Jokes]

I know nearly nothing medical; mostly stuff I hear my dad(a doctor) talk about, stuff in media/books, and the science I do in school

The numbers that you see by the text(e.g. Hello¹) are what I will use as footnotes, more or less

-=_=-=_=-=_=-=_=-=_=-=_=-

Footnotes:

Donnie’s goggles meet a monocle

This is Donnie; I made sure the number of weeks were accurate

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