#we planned to do more but we have work in the morning so we had to stop 💔

[randominchident]

from friends to this (possessive edition)

⋆ 𐙚 ̊. max verstappen x reader ⋆ 𐙚 ̊.

you and max have been friends as long as you can remember, it takes a redbull engineer asking you out for you both to realise you want to be something more.

this is an alternate ending to my already posted fic (which can be found here) featuring a more possessive, passionate reveal. the beginning remains the same, the star divide indicates the beginning of the plot change…

You couldn’t remember the exact day you two had become friends. It was some day in middle school, you were sure of that. But the details had blurred over the years. It felt like you had always known each other.

Max has always been in your life.

You have always been in his.

Sitting in each other’s orbits just felt natural—though entirely platonic. That was the part others struggled to understand.

It was laughable the amount of times waiters had brought candles to your dinner table, 'for the mood', assuming the two of you were on a date. You'd stop correcting them after the third time it happened. Besides, it was fun to laugh about. To joke about how much you'd annoy each other if you really were a couple.

"You snore like a bear," you said, laughing over a glass of red wine, "I pity your future girlfriend."

"Doesn’t seem to bother you too much."

“For a free hotel room, I’ll put up with anything.”

He laughed.

After all these years of sporadically sharing hotel rooms, late night drives, unlimited paddock passes and crude jokes—you two had stayed simply good friends.

Until things started to shift. Slowly. Subtly. So gently that neither of you really noticed.

It was Free Practice.

Rain had settled over the city days ago and showed no sign of stopping anytime soon. The paddock was chaos—engineers scrambling to keep tires warm, trainers trying to keep drivers from catching colds.

Max stood calm in the middle of it all. He was always in the rain. You watched him, helmet in hand, exchanging quiet words with GP. It was always a strange sort of magic, how he could look so at home in the storm—like it was made for him.

You smiled to yourself.

He’d be fine today.

“So, how long have you been together?”

The voice broke you from your thoughts.

You blinked, turning to find Marcus—one of the newer engineers—looming beside your seat. Tall, a bit cocky, but charming in a way that probably worked for him.

“What?” you asked, unsure if you’d misheard.

“You and Max. Been together long?”

You snorted. “Oh. No. We aren’t together. Just friends, y’know?”

It wasn’t the first time someone has misunderstood your relationship with Max. Hell, it wasn’t even the first time someone from Red Bull had made the mistake. Marcus glanced back toward Max, then returned his gaze to you with a slow smirk.

“Damn. And here I thought I had no chance.” He grinned. “You free tonight? I’d love to take you for a drink.”

You opened your mouth, then closed it again. Your brain fumbled for an excuse, but none came fast enough.

“Sure,” you found yourself saying. “Why not.”

Barely a few minutes later, Max is by your side, throwing a tyre blanket over you to keep warm.

“It’d be unfortunate if you died of hypothermia before you saw me win on Sunday.”

“Yeah, what would you do without your only supporter cheering in the crowd?” You joked, burrowing into the blanket and sighing from the sudden warmth.

“I’d be lost without you,” he said, mock-solemnly. But there was a warmth in his voice that caught you slightly off-guard.

Max had told you to wear an extra jacket this morning. You had ignored him. He was pretty smug about it, but it didn’t stop him from trying to warm you up—even going as far as to offer his own jacket. As if he wasn't also standing out in the cold.

“Dinner tonight?” He asked, sipping on his water bottle and moving to sit beside you.

“Uh, I’ve got plans actually.”

Max raised an eyebrow, stilling slightly. “Plans? With who?”

“Marcus,” you answered, feeling a strange knot form in your stomach. “He just asked me out for drinks.”

“Oh.”

Max didn’t say anything for a moment, but his gaze flickered briefly to Marcus, eyes cold and stiff, before returning to you. His mouth opened and closed again, trying to think of what to say. There was something unreadable in his expression.

“Just then?” he asks. You nod, he nods back. The air around you feels tense in a way you cannot explain.

Max doesn’t say anything else after that—just sits there beside you, jaw clenched, sipping his water in silence like it’s the only thing anchoring him to the present moment. You’re not sure what you expected. A joke, maybe. A casual tease. But the usual playfulness between you has gone oddly still, like the storm has seeped into both of you, soaking deeper than skin.

The next time you glance at him, he’s already looking at you. And when your eyes meet, there’s something in his gaze that you’ve never seen before.

Something you don’t know how to name.

Later, back at the hotel, you’re standing in front of the mirror in the outfit you picked out for drinks. It's simple but flattering—your go-to when you actually want to feel like someone might look at you and think you’re beautiful. You smooth your hands over your hips, frown a little, and reach for a necklace. You’re dressed. You said yes. It’s just drinks. Nothing serious. So why do you feel like you're waiting for something else to happen?

A knock pulls you from your thoughts.

You open the door.

It’s Max.

He doesn’t say anything at first—just steps in like he always does, gaze flicking around the room and then landing on you. He stops short.

You swear you hear him swear under his breath. Just faintly. His eyes begin to roam, dragging down the length of your figure, slow and deliberate. Not in the playful, mocking way you're used to.

In a way that burns.

“You’re really going out with him?” Max asks, voice low.

The amusement dies in your throat. “We’re just getting a drink.”

"You're not seriously wearing that," he says, tone flat.

You glance down at yourself, then back at him with an eyebrow raised. “What’s wrong with it?”

Max steps closer. His eyes travel slowly again—too slowly—from your dipping neckline to your legs, then flicker up to meet your gaze. His jaw is still tense. He swallows hard.

“It’s fine. It perfect,” he says tightly. “Just... not for him.”

You blink. “Max—”

“Do you even like him?” he interrupts, arms crossed over his chest. “Marcus? You barely know him.”

Your stomach flips. “It’s just drinks. Not a proposal.”

He doesn’t laugh. Doesn’t even smile.

And then—quietly, almost too softly to hear—he says, “You know I can’t let someone else have you, right?”

The world tips sideways.

You stare at him. “What?”

Max steps closer, just enough to brush your arm as he reaches out to take the necklace from your hand. He doesn’t put it on you. Just holds it, turning the delicate chain over in his fingers like it’s fragile.

“I’ve been trying to ignore it,” he says, still looking at the necklace. “Telling myself we’re just friends. That it’s always been that way. But then I saw you say yes to him, and I—”

Before you can interject, he keeps rambling on.

“He doesn’t know how you take your coffee, or that you fall asleep to rain sounds, or that you always bite your straw when you're nervous. He doesn’t know you hum when you're thinking. Or that you cry during the same scene every time you watch your favourite movie. Even though you've seen it a hundred times.”

Your throat tightens. “Max—”

“He doesn’t get to know those things. I do.”

He finally looks up, and the weight in his eyes knocks the air from your lungs.

“I don’t want to be just friends anymore.”

The silence stretches, the room suddenly far too small.

You take the necklace back from him, set it down, and say softly, “Then tell me what you do want.”

His voice cracks around it: “You. All of you.”

He takes a step forward, close enough now that your breath stutters.

“I want to be the one you dress up for. The one who gets to take you out. The one you laugh with over drinks. The one you share hotel rooms with... because you want to wake up next to me.”

You whisper, “Why didn’t you say anything before?”

His hand finds yours.

“Because I didn’t think I had to.”

Your heart beats loud in your chest, echoing in your ears.

The words knock the breath from your lungs.

He steps closer again, until he’s right in front of you. The air shifts—thick with tension, history, every joke and late night and unspoken feeling neither of you ever named.

“I see you with someone else,” he says, quieter now, “and something in me just—snaps. It’s stupid, but it’s real. And I can’t pretend anymore.”

His fingers brush your arm, tentative.

“I don’t want to be just friends,” he says again. “I haven’t for a long time. I can’t keep pretending that I don’t want you.”

Your heart pounds.

“Then stop pretending,” you whisper.

And that’s all it takes.

Max surges forward—hand cupping your jaw, lips crashing into yours like it’s the first breath he’s taken all day. It’s not slow. It’s not careful. It’s desperate, like he’s been waiting forever and finally let himself have you.

You kiss him back without hesitation, hands in his hoodie, pulling him closer. His other arm wraps around your waist, grounding you to him like he’s afraid you might disappear. But the touch is heavy, like he knows it belongs there. On you. Holding you.

When you break apart, you're both breathing hard, foreheads resting together.

He laughs, soft and stunned. “Fuck. Took us long enough.”

You smile. “Guess everyone else was right.”

Max kisses you again, slower this time.

And you think—finally.

I hope you enjoyed this alternative version… I would love to know (if you read both) which you preferred!

[marvelwitchergilmore]

One Night

Summary: Joaquin Torres x fe!Reader -> One Night is never just one night.

Disclaimer: 16+ with sexual themes, FwB/enemies to lovers, swearing, platonic!Kate Bishop. Not Proof Read.

One Night. 

They say it just takes One Night for everything to change. You just didn’t expect it to be that night. 

When Kate walked into the compound kitchen and living area that morning, she had been expecting no-one. Not a single person. 

Clint was at home with Laura and the kids, Natasha had wrangled Steve and Sam to help her plan Yelena’s birthday party, Bucky had been sent to talk to the cake shop since the owner seemed to always take a shine to him and practically melted any time he walked through the door. She was in her late eighties, but was quite possibly the most terrifying woman Natasha had ever met. So, Bucky it was. 

Kate figured Joaquin would still be in bed since he’d finished up his work pretty late last night. He was still in his office when Kate walked by, having worked two hours of overtime herself. 

As for Tony and everyone else, they were taking their long awaited vacations. 

And as for you. Well, Kate had never woken up before you. In fact, nobody had. Not even Steve who’d wake up at four-thirty every morning to go for a run. Everyone was pretty sure you didn’t even own pajamas. They’d never seen you in them, for starters. And Kate was 97.6% sure you were a vampire, or some kind of supernatural creature that never seemed to sleep. 

But that morning…

That morning she walked into the kitchen and living space to see you, stood by the kitchen island, stirring some creamer into your coffee, dressed in pajamas. 

Kate had to take a mental image. Maybe more than one. You were human?!

Your hair was down from the usual braid-into-bun. You were wearing a short length, earthy green robe. With, from what Kate could gather, was a matching set underneath. 

You hadn’t spotted her yet, which was also unusual. You’d usually say the person’s name before they even walked into the room, already knowing who they were. It made trying to get the jump on you all that more frustrating. 

But Kate couldn’t even take any satisfaction out of scaring you when you jumped after spotting her, because you were in pajamas. 

“Jesus, Kate. You nearly gave me a heart attack.”

Why were you in pajamas? 

Was it your birthday? 

No. Natasha had found out your birthday after hacking Shield’s computer system. It wasn’t your birthday. 

Had you finally taken time off?

Were they a present? Maybe a Secret Santa gift for last year?

“Kate?”

“You’re in pajamas.” 

Those were the only words she could form as she tried to figure out why. 

You chuckled and looked down. “Yeah. Because it’s the morning and I just woke up.”

Kate’s eyes almost bugged out of her head. “You slept in?”

You looked at her, a little dumbfounded. “Yeah. I had a late night last night.”

“Doing what? You usually clock off at six like the rest of us.”

You shrugged. “I had some paperwork to catch up on. Are you okay?”

Kate had to physically shake her head in order to restart her entire body. Once she had done that, she moved closer into the kitchen like a normal person. 

“Yeah. Yeah. Just surprised to find out you own pajamas. I thought you just kinda woke up ready for the day.”

“I wish, but no.” You smiled before lifting your coffee mug to your lips. And you were glad you had something to cover your face with because what happened next was not a situation you had fully prepared for. 

“So, now that I know you own more than just tactical gear. I was thinking we could-”

“Morning.”

Kate looked behind her after hearing Joaquin’s voice as he walked inside, also in his pajamas. 

“Morning,” you replied. 

Kate’s head whipped around to look at you as Joaquin passed her. “Coffee?”

“In the pot,” you told him. 

Kate was starting to give herself whiplash as she looked between yourself and Joaquin. The cogs started turning and the longer she watched both of you, the faster they started turning until they all finally clicked into place. 

“What were you saying, Kate?”

Kate’s mind was screaming. 

“Kate?”

The chair she had been sitting on practically fell over. “I need to speak to you. Now. Right now.” Kate rounded the kitchen island before taking you by your elbow. 

“Hey, watch my coffee.”

Keeping a hold of your mug, you tried your hardest not to spill any as Kate dragged you from the room, down the hallway and around the corner and through the double doors that led out to a different section of the balcony. 

“Kate, that the hell is wrong-”

“You slept with Joaquin?!” 

Your shoulders somehow both relaxed and tensed. “Oh. That.”

“That?!” Kate spat in shock. “That?! Y/n!”

“It’s not as bad as it seems.”

“It’s not as bad as it seems? It’s not as bad as it seems?”

You looked at her, “Are you just gonna keep repeating what I say?”

“Y/n! It’s not like you two are known for frollacing on a beach together. Quite the opposite.”

Kate had you there. It wasn’t exactly a secret to people that you and Joaquin weren’t the best of friends. Or even co-workers. You didn’t know what it was, you just never got along. You spent more time fighting with each other that it would be more believable to be known for doing as much on a beach together, rather than frollocking. 

“Kate-”

“How-How did this even happen? How long has this been going on? Oh, my god. Was it an act? Just to throw us off the scent?”

“No, no, no. Kate.” You put your coffee down on a table before taking her by the shoulders. “It’s nothing like that. It was just one night.”

Kate just sighed, “It’s never just one night.”

“Yes, it is.”

Kate became a little calmer, or rather, was starting to internalise her freak out. But it didn’t last long because the minute you let go of her, she threw her arms in the air. “God, I can’t believe this. God, what are the others gonna think?”

“They’re not gonna think anything because they’re not gonna find out. It was a one night thing. It didn’t mean anything.”

“You’re in pajamas. How long ago did-” Then Kate shook her head. “Nevermind, I don’t wanna know. Actually, yes I do. Hm, no. No, I don’t. Hm. Yes. No. Yes. Okay. No wait. Don’t tell me. Tell me.”

“Kate?”

She just nodded. “Tell me.”

“Are you sure?” You asked, suppressing the smile on your face. 

“Yes.”

You waited for her to stop you again, but when she didn’t, you finally told her. 

“It was late last night, and yes, he’s good. Whoever he ends up with will be a lucky woman.”

Kate looked up at you, a little shocked. She was pretty sure that was the very first compliment you’d ever given Joaquin. Like, ever. 

“Wow.”

Kate finally sat down. After a morning training session and finding out about you and Joaquin…she was exhausted. 

You sat opposite to her at the coffee table. 

“Do you wanna talk about it?”

You raised an eyebrow with a chuckle escaping you. “Do you wanna talk about it?”

Kate looked at you. She did. She was more curious than scared. “How about I go and get dressed and we can head into the city? Go and check out that new boutique?”

“How do you do that?” That was what Kate had been planning to ask you before Joaquin walked inside. 

“Give me twenty minutes.”

Over the next five hours, Kate asked you every question she could think of twice. 

What the hell happened?

Did he kiss you first? Or was it you? 

Did you enjoy it?

Did he enjoy it?

What the hell happened?

And you’d explained everything. At the makeup counter, at the deli, inside the curtain set up for two dressing rooms in the new boutique, at the coffee shop and on the drive both in and out of the city. 

“I just…I can’t even imagine you two having a conversation. I mean, that’s what gave it away this morning. You never tell him where the coffee is, even when he asks. And you never say good morning to him.”

You chuckled. “Kate, it’s not a big deal. It was just one night.”

“That’s what they all say. And before you know it…it’s not just one night anymore.”

You had just rolled your eyes and brushed it off. You and Joaquin had both agreed before and after that it would be a one time thing. 

You’d kissed him by accident. And after pulling away, he’d pulled you back. It had only gotten more heated from there until eventually you collapsed beside him in his bed. You’d both fallen asleep shortly afterwards and as much as part of you wanted to stay laying beside him when you woke up, you knew you couldn’t. 

Though, maybe you should have. It would have saved you watching Kate have an aneurysm at realising exactly why you were in your pyjamas, why you had slept in, and why you were talking to Joaquin like you actually considered him a friend of some kind. 

And you were both adamant it was to be a One Night thing. But apparently neither of you had factored into the conversation how good it truly was. Not just the sex, but not fighting each other all the time. 

“I need you.”

You’d been walking down the hallway, minding your own business, when Bucky suddenly nearly pulled your arms out of its socket as he dragged you inside the training room. “Sam’s stuck me with the elementary kids.”

“What do you want me to do about it?” You asked, sounding a little mad. 

“Just demonstrate something to the kids.”

“Like what?”

“I dunno. You and Joaquin figure something out.”

“Joaquin?” You practically threw up his name before Bucky answered, “Yes,” and threw you towards the training mat where you were met with Joaquin. 

“Okay, kids, these two very helpful volunteers are gonna show you what sparring is.”

“We are?” You and Joaquin asked. 

Apparently you were. 

Which was how you found yourself and Joaquin explaining small moves that the kids could copy, safely. However, Joaquin had been enjoying himself far too much, so taking the opportunity to explain a small self-defence method, you sent him flying to the floor. 

All the kids took in a breath, some laughed, some gasped. 

But once Joaquin laughed, letting the kids know he was okay, they all relaxed. 

“Okay, rugrats. You’ve got fifteen minutes to use the climbing frame!” Bucky announced before letting the kids run free. Meanwhile, you remained on top of Joaquin. 

“That was fun.”

“Really got the drop on me, didn’t you?”

“Those kids were boosting your ego far too much.”

“My god,” Joaquin breathed. “Are you jealous?”

“Hell no,” you laughed. “Just don’t think your ego needs inflating anymore than it already has.”

“Well,” Joaquin suddenly flipped you and had you pinned under him. “I could say the same about you. You forget I know what I’m doing, Angel.” 

For that last part, he leaned down and whispered it low so only you could hear. A slight whimper threatened to escape you but when you were met with Joaquin’s eyes once again, one of the kids had dropped an end of a bench, reminding both of you where you were and who you were around. 

Carefully, Joaquin climbed off you before lowering his hand down to you to help you up. Without thinking, you accepted. You were greeted with the same kind of electricity you’d experienced that night when he’d intertwined his fingers with yours, pinning them above your head before tantalisingly moving down your body…

“If you don’t need me?” You called out to Bucky. He brought his forgotten attention back to you both. 

“Yeah. Thanks!”

You just nodded, before nodding at Joaquin. His hand waited as long as it could to let you go as you walked away, his gaze trailing after you and you left the training room and hurried back the way you came before Bucky had pulled you inside. 

Later that night, long after the training room and a short while after dinner where you and Joaquin had tried to avoid contact; seemingly making more than either of you had done in three years. He knocked on your door. 

All he wanted to do was check in on you. Maybe apologise for what happened in the training room. Maybe ask why you hadn’t scoffed at his choice of food combos at dinner like you usually did. But instead, once he opened the door, the wind was knocked from him completely. 

“I just wanted to-” Joaquin was trying to find his words again after seeing you, but he was struggling. 

But that didn’t matter. Because your lips were on his almost instantly. Pulling him inside, his hands pulled you closer to him. You shut the door and he pushed you against it. 

Hours later, sweating and gasping for breath yet again, you both told each other it was just a One Time thing. Well, a two-time thing. 

Yet, just as Kate had predicted, it wasn’t. 

“It happened again.”

Those were the first words out of your mouth as she opened her apartment door. “I told you.”

“What happened?” Yelena yelled from the living room, a pint of ice cream in her lap. 

“It’s Y/n!”

That was all Kate had to say as she invited you inside for Yelena to reply, “Did she and the Bird Boy sleep together again?”

“Did you tell her?”

Kate shook her head as she locked the door. “She already knew. Don’t ask me how.”

“Did she bring drinks? This conversation is gonna need drinks!” Yelena called out. 

Over the next three hours, you sat on Kate and Yelena’s couch, mortified at what had happened. 

“I told you it wouldn’t be a one time thing.”

“It doesn’t have to be a one time thing. If you both enjoy it, and I can tell you do-”

“Yelena!”

“What?” Yelena asked. “You’ve been less pissy since the first time. I’m just saying…if you both enjoy it, enjoy it.”

“But it’s more than that.”

“What is?”

When you didn’t answer, both Yelena and Kate looked at each other, already knowing. 

“Y/n…”

Kate pushed your hands from your face. “Do you like Joaquin?”

“No! No, of course not!”

Yelena dug her spoon into her pint of ice cream. “Methinks the lady doth protest too much.”

You just groaned. “I can’t. What? Why are you smiling?”

“No reason.” Kate said, shaking her head. 

“She thinks you and Joaquin are gonna get married.” 

“Yelena!” It was Kate’s turn to yell at her roommate. 

“What?”

You looked at Kate. “You really think that? Really?”

Kate had been the one person to see everything. Every reason you gave as to why you didn’t like Joaquin. And clearly this marriage concept to her wasn’t new. 

“Look, I just think, sometimes, the lines between love and hate can be a little…fuzzy. Yelena?”

She just shrugged. “If you want to fuck him, fuck him. But if you love him…”

You barked out a laugh. “Whoa, hey, hey, okay. No. No. We’re not- no. I don’t love Joaquin.”

Yelena hummed to herself, holding up her spoon, “The lady-”

“Hey,” Kate raised her voice and Yelena kept hers silent, but still acted out what she was going to say. 

“Kate?”

“Look,” Kate took your hands in hers. “Maybe this was it. But, Yelena’s right. If you like Joaquin, maybe you should tell him. Before someone gets hurt.”

It was sound advice. And you gave yourself some time to figure it out. Maybe it was just the sex. Maybe he’d just muddled your brain. Time away would be good. 

But time didn’t fix feelings as you came to find out. 

After the third One Night, you’d accepted a three month placement from Hill. Maybe time away would do you good. And it worked, for the first six weeks. Joaquin didn’t cross your mind once. 

Until the day he walked inside your tent with some of his tech gear, “Where can I set up?”

“What are you doing here?”

“Don’t sound too happy to see me.”

You would come to learn Joaquin had been sent in place of Yelena. A woman you sent a very, very long text to: who only replied with a kissy face and a good luck symbol. 

“I’m gonna kill her.”

“What?”

You looked up at Joaquin, “Nothing.”

It took three weeks and thirty different fights, including mini spats, for something to break between both yourself and Joaquin. 

“Do you do this by accident, or do you just enjoy being a pain in my ass?” 

“Says the guy who can’t leave me alone to do the work I’ve been trained for!”

“Well excuse me for giving a crap about my team-mate?”

You barked a laugh. “That’s rich, coming from you. I’m pretty sure you’d rather fly me to the top of the Empire State and drop me.”

“Believe me, that hasn’t not crossed my mind once or twice.”

You were just standing opposite each other, your chests heaving for breath when all of a sudden his hands were in your hair, your hands were pulling his overshirt from him and his lips were crashing against yours. 

With his tongue dipping inside your mouth, tasting you, he moaned. “I’ve missed this.”

Shaking your shirt from your arms, your hand slipped into his curls and pulled his kiss closer to you. As you ass bumped against the table set up, Joaquin moved his kisses from your lips to across your jaw and down your neck. 

It was the first time neither of you talked about it being a One Night thing. Because, between the kissing and the breathy moans, a silent agreement had been made. This could never have been a One Night thing. 

You couldn’t keep lying to yourself. You’d missed it, too. You’d missed him. 

And part of that conversation came to a head the next night when Joaquin found you in your tent since you’d been avoiding him all day. 

“Why have you been avoiding me?”

“Joaquin-”

“No, I don’t wanna fight. Not tonight. I just want an answer.”

“I haven’t been avoiding you.”

“Yes, you have. Despite our history, I know you, Y/n. You’ve been avoiding me. Why?”

You stopped folding your clothes and looked at him. For the first time in forever, you too didn’t want to fight him. Not with him standing there looking all…Joaquin-like. A kind, yet worried face. A comfortable presence. 

You moved closer, pulling him in to kiss you. This kiss was different. Rather than raw and needy for sex, it was a little more delicate. But there was still a force behind it. 

“Because I’ve missed this, too. I’ve missed you, Joaquin.”

Joaquin looked you in your eyes as you stood, inches from his face. You weren’t lying. Even when you’d been fighting him, and he’d been fighting you, one thing he’d known since the beginning was when you were lying. 

He was apparently the only person you knew with that skill, which just added another thing to the list of why you hated him so much.

You weren’t lying. 

Joaquin didn’t say anything. He just kissed you. And kissed you. And kissed you. 

And for the first time, you both took it slow. Well, slower. 

“I think this is gonna be more than a one time thing.”

You laughed as Joaquin broke the silence with his sentence, and his laughter joined yours until you kissed him, crawling to straddle him under your bed covers.

By the time you both got back, it was like nothing had ever happened. You and Joaquin seemed to fall right back into your old ways with each other. 

But none of it was real. 

The truth was in how he kissed you late at night, and in how he would brush his hand across your hip as he passed you in the kitchen. It was in the way you’d pull him around the corner in an empty hallway and kiss him. It was in the way he’d lean against your body and it was in the way a quiet moan, only he could hear, would leave you as his leg pushed between both of yours. 

The truth was in the way he’d watch you as you sat up in bed, reading over different mission material. It was in the way you’d look at him when he was training in the training room, early in the morning, the sun kissing the sheen of his skin as he ran his third mile on the treadmill. 

The truth was in the way he followed behind you, no matter who was around either of you. It was in the way you both fought less with your superiors about being placed together for different training exercises and missions. 

The truth was in the way you had both been slowly falling for each other, despite wishing for the opposite. 

“I’m gonna ask Y/n on a date.” 

That had been the statement Joaquin had blurted out to Kate one afternoon when everyone else was at training. 

“W-w-what? Oh, yeah. No, that’s cool.”

Joaquin just looked at her, “You’re a terrible actor.”

“I am not!”

“I already know you know.”

Kate relaxed. “Oh, okay then. So, you’re gonna ask her out? Finally!” Kate smiled. 

“I just can’t decide where. I want this to be perfect. But I don’t want to set us up for failure.”

Kate watched as Joaquin sat beside her on the sofa and pulled out his phone, scrolling through the different options he had written down in his notes app. Any of the options he had would be good. 

But that wasn’t what made her smile. 

It was the fact that Joaquin was putting so much thought into it. He always put a lot of thought into things, but knowing it was for you. For both of you. It made her want to say “HA!” to Yelena. 

But if Joaquin was being completely honest with himself, from knocking on your door and hearing you walking to open it, he’d never been so nervous in his entire life. 

“Joaquin,” you seemed surprised. Probably because he had knocked in a way that might throw you off in thinking it wasn’t him, giving him a few more seconds to psych himself up. 

“I want to take you on a date.” Well, there went the speech he’d prepared. “And I’m hoping you’ll say yes because this isn’t just-”

“Yes.”

“What?”

“Yes,” you repeated. “I’ll go on a date with you.”

“You will?”

You smiled and nodded. “Yeah, of course.”

Joaquin smiled before stepping inside and kissing you before you closed the door. 

You didn’t quite know when or why, but you and Joaquin had gone from being at each other’s throats aggressively to it being affectionate. And for some reason - one that Kate would probably explain to you one day - you wouldn’t trade it for the world. 

And neither would Joaquin.

[moonlit-imagines]

Headcanons for babysitting the Barton kids with Natasha

Natasha Romanoff x reader

warnings:

a/n: silly lil concept. also its like implied nat and y/n are dating but not explicit so like it can def be platonic or romantic depending on how you perceive it.

prompt:

oh you KNOWWW it’s gonna be a good time when “auntie nat” and y/n show up to babysit

clint and laura were going out of town for a whole week and left you two—the only two they trusted—to watch their three kids

and ofc the kids loved you guys to death

“can you show me how to shoot a gun?” -lila

“let’s check the rules your mom left” -nat, reading the note on the fridge “‘don’t let the kids touch your guns’ sorry kid, against the rules”

cooking was something you both were dreading

“can we take the quinjet to get mcdonalds?” -you

“only if you fly” -nat

no R-rated movies was circled and underlined on the “rules” note about 10 times

but the terminator doesn’t count right?

being woken up by nate in the middle of the night bc he cant sleep

“your turn, nat” -you

after nat didn’t come back to bed for a while you found her and nate playing “spies” (she really wanted him to be her mini-me 😭)

“y/n! wanna play?” -nate

*defeated sigh* “sure!” -you

within 20 minutes all the kids were downstairs pretending to be spies and the new mission was “get the kids back to bed”

“no, we cant dye nates hair red” -you

“it’d look great” -nat

“natasha they’re never going to let us see the kids again” -you

three kids is just a LOT of work

you had newfound respect for clint and laura

“it’d be easier if we could drug them” -nat

“yeah…..NO” -you

cooper and lila would start arguing over the shower, nate didn’t like his breakfast, nat was getting stir crazy, you were trying to patch a hole in the wall before clint ever knew it was there—yeah. pretty great stuff

check-in calls with laura

“hey! how are they doing, not causing you too much trouble?” -laura

*lila and cooper doing nat’s makeup TERRIBLY* “oh, yeah, we’re just fine. hang on. i have to send you a picture” -you, getting photographic evidence

“oh. my god. clint, you have to see this” -laura, holding up her phone to show the worlds deadliest assassin with horrendous green eyeshadow on her eyes and cheeks and smeared lipstick

“how’d they find my makeup?” -clint, sarcastically

you didn’t know it yet, but you’d be the next victim

“oh, thanks guys…you didn’t have to” -you

truthfully you and nat got some hilarious pictures together

those pictures would live on the barton fridge for years

tending to farm things

“should we call tony? the tractor is broken again” -you

“are you kidding? this is my week away from tony” -nat

it was kind of like a vacation for you guys too. it was no paris or london, but it was an escape from your routine

but you did already make plans for paris for right after this

“watching kids for a week earns us a nice vacation, right?” -you

“i feel like saving the world several times earns us a vacation, but sure, if you think babysitting is the way to go, we can do this more” -nat

lila asking for coffee

you checking the rules list, which has a bullet point saying “do not let lila have coffee”

cool aunt nat almost made her a nice little latte too

“hey, spies might be allowed to lie, but little girls are not. try again later” -you

pretending to be an elderly couple on the porch rocking chairs, drinking your morning coffe and watching the sunrise

“maybe we should retire. get a nice house in the woods. ignore the avengers when they call.” -you

“i don’t hate that idea” -nat

trying to get the kids to do their chores was a hassle

dishes, trash, laundry, cleaning bathrooms, these kids must have thought THEY were on vacation

“i hate how these kids are just not afraid of assassins. that is not normal” -nat

“it’s normal when they call a world famous assassin auntie nat” -you

“are you saying im going soft?” -nat

“i would never say that…” -you

she says in shock like she didn’t just bake cookies with them.

laura and clint finally came home and you guys had dinner ready for them

“aw, you didn’t have to do that” -laura

“don’t worry about it, i know you’ve been on the road all day” -you

you all ate dinner together and said your goodbyes and the kids all gave you a group hug

“i hope they behaved for you” -clint

“they were just perfect” -nat

and on your way out, you heard

“hey, did someone put a hole in the wall? this looks freshly patched” -clint

the kids scattered and you and nat were wise to exit promptly

“love you guys! lets do this again sometime!”

taglist: @locke-writes // @captainshazamerica // @summersimmerus // @prettysbliss // @simp-legend // @wild-rose-35 // @nekoannie-chan // @beth-gallagher22 // @sk1bidi-n1k0-e4ts-people // @deanzboyfriend // @mr-mxyzptlk-1940 //

[changbinniescurlyhair]

A Business Affair (Lee Minho)

Synopsis. You can't help but tease your boss, even when you're married... and so is he. There's something so addictive about the way he looks at you like he owns you, like vows mean nothing behind closed doors. It's wrong and filthy-but that only makes you want him even more. Pairing: CEO!Lee Minho x Secretary!reader Warnings: MINORS DNI. NSFW, explicit sex, Dom!Minho x sub!f!reader, cursing, unprotected sex (you know what I'm going to say here...), teasing, dirty talk, degradation kink, fingering, oral (f ), creampie, overstimulation, mention of jealousy, themes of infidelity (Minho and reader are both married). A/N: Y'all, I am almost done with my exams!!! I'm going to start working on requests next week and this has been in my drafts for forever, so hopefully this will tide you over until then :) Requests Masterlist

The bed was cold when you reached for him.

Empty.

You blinked awake to the soft hush of rain against the windows. The clock on your nightstand blinked 6:17 AM. He was already gone.

Your fingers brushed over the cooling sheets on his side, the faint indent where his body had been only hours ago. He hadn’t kissed you goodbye. No note. No whispered “I’ll see you tonight after work.” Only the lingering ache between your thighs from last night’s slow, punishing love and a bruise blooming on your hip in the shape of his hand.

Typical of him. Wake up. Fuck you senseless. Disappear before sunrise.

You rose from bed, your robe slinking over bare skin, and moved to the bathroom. Your reflection in the mirror looked kissed raw — lips swollen, a faint shadow of stubble burn along your jawline, eyes heavy with the kind of sleep that comes only after being thoroughly ruined.

You turned your head to look at the mark beneath your collarbone — a deep, angry red. Possessive.

Your hand grazed your silver wedding ring.

You chuckled darkly. Fucking bastard.

~~~~

You arrived at the office with a plan.

Your pencil skirt was high, the slit just a little too deep. Your blouse was sheer under your coat, and your lacy black bra peeked through if someone looked hard enough. And you wanted him to look. You needed him to look.

Let the whole building talk. Let them whisper that Mr. Lee's secretary was having an affair with her married boss. That she was betraying her husband with a man far too powerful, far too dangerous, and far too good in bed to resist.

You swiped into the private executive floor and took a breath.

His office door was open.

You walked in without knocking.

“Good morning,” you said softly, placing his coffee on the edge of the desk.

Minho didn’t look up immediately. “You’re late,” he muttered, eyes locked on his monitor.

“I didn’t sleep well.”

“Busy night?”

You smirked. “You could say that.”

Minho’s eyes finally flicked upward.

The moment he saw you, the temperature in the room changed.

His gaze dropped to your blouse, lingered on your chest, then traveled lower — slow, deliberate. “Did he keep you up?” he asked, voice cool and sharp. “Your husband?”

You stepped closer, your smile a quiet challenge. “He’s been… inattentive lately. Neglectful.”

Minho didn’t reply. Instead, his gaze flicked to your wedding band, and then slowly, almost deliberately, he slid his own cuff back to reveal his own wedding ring, the silver gleaming in the soft light.

You tilted your head, meeting his gaze. “How’s your wife doing?”

Minho’s expression darkened, just a fraction, but his eyes remained locked on yours. His lips curled into a tight smile. “She’s fine. Busy.” His voice was smooth, but there was an edge to it, as if he were guarding something.

You arched a brow, stepping even closer. “Busy, huh? Funny how we both seem so... neglected.”

He didn’t respond immediately. The air between you thickened, a palpable tension building.

“So you’re acting out?” he asked, voice low and almost teasing.

You leaned over the desk just enough for your breasts to brush the surface, your gaze fixed on him. “Maybe. Or maybe I just like the attention my boss gives me.”

“So what are you looking for, sweetheart?” he murmured. “Discipline? Validation? Or just a better fuck?”

You tilted your head. “Does it matter?”

His grip tightened.

“No. Because I’ll give you all of it.”

~~~~

He shoved you against the wall without warning. His mouth was on yours before you could gasp — claiming, devouring, punishing. His hands roamed over your waist, your ass, your thighs, gripping like he was memorizing the feel of you.

“You came in here dressed like that,” he growled, teeth scraping your neck, “knowing exactly what I’d do to you.”

You whimpered as he hiked your skirt up to your hips. “Wanted your attention.”

“You have it.”

He dropped to his knees, hooking your panties down so fast they nearly tore.

“Been thinking about this pussy all fucking morning,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to your thigh. “Your husband doesn’t take care of it, does he?”

“No,” you breathed. “He doesn’t.”

Minho licked a slow stripe up your folds. “Then let me.”

His tongue was relentless — flicking over your clit, dipping inside you, groaning when you trembled against the wall. He gripped your thighs tightly, not letting you move. You cried out as he sucked your clit into his mouth, your legs shaking.

“You taste like mine,” he whispered, eyes locked on yours. “Like a dirty little wife who’s been cheating all week.”

Your nails scratched the wall. “I am… fuck— I’m cheating on him.”

“Say it louder.”

“I’m cheating on my husband,” you cried. “With my boss.”

Minho growled against your pussy, tongue working faster until your orgasm hit like lightning — sudden and blinding. Your body went slack, but he didn’t stop. He dragged another out of you, and then another, until you were begging.

“Please… Minho—”

He stood, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “On the desk.”

You stumbled forward and leaned over, breasts pressing into the cool wood.

He undid his belt, pants already straining. “Fucking skirt’s been driving me insane,” he muttered. “Do you know how many men looked at you today?”

You looked over your shoulder, dazed and needy. “Did it make you jealous?”

“I wanted to break every one of their fingers.”

He entered you in one deep, brutal thrust.

You moaned his name, nails dragging across the desk, hips arching back.

“God, this pussy was made for me,” he groaned, thrusting harder. “Your husband can’t fuck you like this. He doesn’t know how to ruin you.”

“No one fucks me like you,” you gasped. “No one—”

He slapped your ass. “Louder.”

“No one!” you cried.

The sound of skin slapping echoed through the office. He gripped your hair, pulling your head back as he fucked into you ruthlessly. Your body jolted with each thrust, your moans echoing into the glass, the city skyline watching.

“Gonna fill you up,” he growled into your ear. “Let you go home dripping with another man’s cum.”

“Do it,” you sobbed. “Make me his whore.”

His thrusts grew deeper, rougher, angling just right. Your fingers clawed at the desk as the pressure inside you snapped, your whole body locking up as your orgasm tore through you with a cry.

Minho cursed, hips jerking as he followed you over the edge, groaning low and feral as he emptied himself inside you, grinding his hips through the aftershocks. He held you close, your bodies trembling in sync, your breaths ragged and uneven.

You stayed like that for a beat—breathing, trembling, wrecked.

Then slowly, he pulled out, helping you steady yourself on shaking legs. He gently tugged your dress back down, smoothing the fabric with careful fingers. You adjusted your hair in the reflection of the nearby window, flushed and raw.

Minho tucked himself back into his trousers, then looked over at you with that crooked, devastating smile.

“Wanna grab brunch?” he asked casually, like he hadn’t just ruined you on his desk.

You gave a breathless little laugh. “After that? You’re insatiable.”

He stepped closer, brushing his thumb over your cheek before lifting your hand to his lips. He kissed the silver band on your finger.

“Well,” he murmured, “I do have a reputation to uphold, my love.”

You smiled despite yourself, amazed at the way he could be both filthy and soft in the same breath.

He grinned and wrapped his arm around your waist, kissing the top of your head softly “Can’t have people thinking I don’t take care of my wife, Mrs. Lee.”

***My works are not allowed for translation or reposting as your own without my permission***

Tags: @jehhskz @true-queen-of-mischief @necrozica ***Taglist is open.***

[silens-oro]

Well Enough Alone: Baby Blurb #7

Not all fics have adult content, but this blog is 18+. Andrew "Pope" Cody x f!Reader (nicknamed Hawk) Animal Kingdom Masterlist Pope x Hawk Playlist Well Enough Alone Baby AU Masterlist

General Synopsis: Hawk has a late night craving and gets more than she bargained for. Word Count: 2.5k Content Warning: childbirth, but nothing in detail. AN: please don't make me go back to the main WEA fic. I'm begging. please comment & reblog :)

It was a rare night when Lena stayed with Baz instead of at Hawk and Pope’s place, and tonight was one of those rare nights. Hawk hit the eight and a half month mark and she felt every bit of those eight and a half months. Her back ached, her boobs were sore every waking second, she was always hot, and the near constant heartburn was driving her crazy. 

Hawk’s sleep schedule had been thrown out of whack by the seventh month, and she was now up at odd hours of the night —occupying herself with the plants in the garage or going for late night swims in the pool if Pope was up with her. Most of the time, though, she’d just sit up in bed while Pope slept beside her, murmuring to baby Thalia about anything and everything that happened throughout the day, or plans they had coming up, or anything Pope did in the nursery to get things ready for her arrival. Pope would wake up to full on one sided conversations Hawk would be having with the baby, taking their kicks and punches as confirmations to her questions. He’d smile into his pillow as he listened, not wanting to disturb Hawk’s ritual that became a more frequent occurrence the later in her pregnancy she got.

Hawk had taken her maternity leave from the shop at the eighth month mark at Pope’s request. If she had it her way, she’d still be working up until she went into labor, but Pope insisted she needed to take it easy because she could. Not everyone was afforded that luxury, he reminded her, so she should take it while she could.   

Pope had been on edge the further along Hawk got, especially now that she was feeling the full brunt of the pregnancy. Her due date was inching closer and closer and he was chomping at the bit for this to be over, for Hawk to be safe and for the baby to finally be here. He was with her everywhere she went, giving her just enough space to not feel suffocated, but he hovered all the same. He had the occasional nightmares of something happening to her, or the baby, and the days that followed those were unrelenting to him. He just wanted them safe and healthy, and he’d do everything in his power to make that happen, even if it meant keeping Hawk at arm’s length.  

Tonight though, Hawk’s cravings were out in full force and she was taking no prisoners. Pope, god love him, only put up a small resistance at leaving the house at three in the morning with Hawk in tow because she would not give up. They took Hawk’s small SUV when they needed to go anywhere together nowadays because she had a hard time climbing in and out of Pope’s massive truck by the time she was five months along. This all led them to where they were now -driving along the coastline to one of the local 24 hour donut shops at two in the morning. 

Pope’s right hand held Hawk’s, his thumb rubbing over the top of her hand affectionately as he drove with the stereo playing in the background. 

“I can’t believe how close we are.” Hawk breathed out, letting the salty sea air hit her face from the open passenger window. 

“Only a few more weeks.” Pope glanced at her, grinning softly. 

“Believe it or not, I’m gonna miss doing all of this. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate everything you’ve done to get us ready for this. I love you so much, Andy. I really mean that.”

“I know you do.” He kissed her hand, “and I’d do it a dozen more times if you’d let me.”

“Settle down,” Hawk laughed, head tilted back. “I’ll settle for maybe one more, but you’re out of luck for the other eleven.”

“You mean that?”

“That you’re not getting your baker’s dozen of kids? Yeah, I mean that.” Hawk scoffed.

“No, that you’d have another.”

“Possibly.” She shrugged, “I actually liked being pregnant more than I thought I would. Granted, there are things about it that drive me nuts, but I wouldn’t trade this experience with you for the world.” Her other hand rested on her bump, rubbing circles to feel the baby move. Hawk grunted when Thalia gave a particularly strong kick. “She wants a cruller…and a chocolate frosted with sprinkles, by the way.” 

“Oh, she’s got a sweet tooth tonight?” 

“She sure does.” 

“You sure you want to get down?” Pope asked her, but Hawk was already undoing her seatbelt and propping the door open. “I can run in and out.”

“Yeah, I’m getting antsy.” She said as she heaved herself out of the vehicle. Pope was quick to come around to her side and held out his arm for her to take. Instead, she pulled him down to kiss her and she pat his ass playfully. He grinned down at Hawk with a brow raised at her boldness, but walked ahead of her to open the door like a gentleman. 

When Pope noticed Hawk wasn’t right behind him and he couldn’t hear her feet over the gravel, he turned around to see her looking down at where she was standing halfway between him and the car.

“You alright?”

“I uh, I think my water just broke?” Hawk looked up at him with wide eyes. Pope blinked at her, brows furrowing as each individual word processed through his brain until they were comprehended after Hawk repeated herself. “My water broke, Andy.” Her voice was calm, but her eyes held shock. Pope, to his credit, all but levitated over to her, trying to herd her back to the SUV. 

“What the hell are you doing?” She asked as she waddled back to the passenger side. 

“We gotta go.” Hawk gently pushed him back towards the donut shop, but he stood as solid as he ever did. 

“No, no -I need those donuts!”

“You can’t be serious.”

“I’m not going to be able to eat anything for god knows how long, Andy! Do not deprive me of this one last thing before I pop our kid out.” Pope wanted to argue, to toss Hawk into the car and fly to the hospital “-and I don’t want to get the seat wet.” Hawk mumbled as an afterthought as she shimmied one of her legs to kick off the remnants that were dripping down it uncomfortably. 

Pope leveled her with a look, then against his better judgement he turned and went inside the shop, shaking his head the whole way. He waited in line, but kept an eye on her as she waddled back and forth next to the car, shaking her legs every few steps. She sent him two thumbs up with a big smile when she caught him watching. He could only nervously half-smiled back, but inside he was panicking. 

Pope’s heart pounded in his chest as he placed the order, his mind going on cruise control as he realized that the baby was coming, and she was coming early. Two weeks early wasn’t a big deal, Pope knew this, but it still worried him that something could possibly be wrong. 

Pope jogged outside once he had the bag and picked up his speed when he saw Hawk slightly bent against the door, clutching the metal and trying to steady her breathing with her forehead pressed against her arm. 

“Why are you still outside?” He pulled his sweatshirt over his head and opened the passenger door so he could set it on her seat before helping her in, placing the paper bag on her lap. 

“I didn’t want to get the seat wet. We’ve already discussed this.” Hawk peeked in the paper bag and smiled. Pope hustled to the driver’s side and they were flying out of the parking lot like a bat out of hell. 

“Are you timing the contractions?” His fingers tapped against the steering wheel. 

“Considering that was my first one? No,” She said as she stuffed half of the cruller into her mouth. 

“You’re killing me, Hawk.” Pope groaned. His knuckles were white against the steering wheel and the last thing Hawk needed was for Pope to have a coronary while he was driving. 

“Hey,” Hawk said firmly to ground Pope, her hand reaching over to squeeze his bouncing thigh, “Look at me.” Pope glanced over to her, then back to the road. “I am fine. The baby is fine. We’re going to be okay. Just get us to the hospital safely, alright? That’s all you need to worry about right now.” Pope nodded, breathing in through his nose and out through his mouth. “We’re going to be parents, Andy.” That seemed to settle him for a split second.

“Are you nervous?” He asked, full irony present, nervously. 

“I’m fucking terrified,” Hawk answered honestly, “but I’m also so excited to meet Thalia.” 

“We’re gonna meet Thalia.” Pope repeated, his eyes fluttering as nerves wracked his entire body. Hawk smiled at him tenderly and squeezed his leg when another contraction hit. 

To Pope’s credit, he tried not to glare at everyone who came in and out of the room once they were settled in, especially when Hawk winced as they checked how dilated she was. And then they kept checking. He was becoming more agitated than she was, but he kept it to himself for her sake. 

By the time they made it to the hospital, Hawk was four centimeters. He knew they needed to make it to ten, so he did everything he learned through his hours upon hours of research through articles, YouTube videos, and message boards. 

Hawk held onto his arm as he walked the halls with her, he let her squeeze any part of his she could get her hands on when a contraction hit, and he soothed her, letting her know he was staying right there with her through all of it. He had the nurses being in a yoga ball so she could open her hips and alleviate some of the pressure in her spine.  

Pope wasn’t a stranger to birth and just how brutal it was. He helped deliver Deran on the dirty bathroom floor of a gas station when he was a troubled teen, and that had been traumatic for everyone involved. Now, he just had to support Hawk in any way he could as she pushed with the best team of doctors and nurses, in the nicest hospital they could afford. He wanted this experience to be as beautiful as it could be for Hawk -and Thalia, when she finally made her appearance. 

It was seven hours of grueling labor, of screaming, crying, and pushing, but she did it. 

Pope didn’t care how many strangers were in the room —the second he heard his daughter’s thunderous wails echo in the room, he felt like he was floating off the floor in absolute euphoria. Hawk was crying tears of happy relief when a nurse placed a teeny, tiny bundle on her chest, her shaking arms holding the now quiet infant to her after she had been checked out and cleaned up. The team was finishing up all of the afterbirth tasks and the adrenaline was still pumping through her. Pope was right up at her side, looking down at Hawk with pride bursting through his chest. 

“Oh, my girl.” Hawk cooed quietly, her voice shaking as her fingertips brushed against the baby’s cheek. The infant’s just looked up at Hawk. “Welcome to the world, my Thalia.” Pope kissed Hawk’s sweaty forehead, lingering long enough to say how proud of her he was and how much he loved her. How grateful he was. His eyes shined with unbroken tears and he held Hawk’s shoulders as they both looked down at the now sleeping infant. 

The room had quieted down as everyone left to give the new parents some time alone as a family. 

“We did it.” Hawk whispered, looking up at Pope. He leaned down to kiss her lips, his hand bracing her arm so Thalia didn’t jostle. “I can’t believe she’s here.”

“She’s beautiful.” Pope whispered against the crown of Hawk’s head. “You don’t understand how much this means to me. What all of this has meant to me.”

“You deserve happiness, Andy. We both do.” He nodded, allowing himself to feel the happiness he was never afforded as he continued watching Thalia’s every little movement. “You want to hold her?” Hawk asked with a knowing grin. His palms were itching, she could tell, but he’d never rush her first time holding the baby she carried and delivered selflessly. 

“Really?” Hawk chuckled, wincing as it started a round of cramping from her waist down. 

“Yes, really. She’s your daughter, Andy, and you’ve waited long enough to meet her.” 

Pope pumped some sanitizer into his palm from the bedside table. The act itself was second nature as the man had a germ phobia (and kept a bottle of Purell in nearly every room of the house), and he made damn sure that his daughter would be well protected from things that could be prevented. 

Hawk patted the side of the bed near her hip and he gently sat down, his body angled towards her. When Pope felt the minuscule weight of his tiny daughter in his hands, the tears that had built finally fell. A small sob broke through his trembling lips as he bent down to give her tiny forehead a kiss.

Hawk’s hand soothed his leg, rubbing circles as she saw the immediate bond he lassoed around Thalia take place. Hawk was exhausted, but the smile never left her. Thalia opened her eyes when Pope pulled back and his jaw fell ever so slightly. He didn’t try to hide any of the emotions he usually kept tight under lock and key, leaving himself wide open and vulnerable to the only two people he’d allow himself to be around. 

“Hi, Thalia.” Pope got choked up, “I’m your dad and I already love you so much.” He said softly, words shaking. Hawk had never seen the smile he gave Thalia before. It lit him up completely from the inside out, and it was enough to send Hawk into another round of happy tears. Pope brought Thalia up to his chest and just held her there for a moment with his eyes closed as he tried to steady his breathing. She cooed and gurgled for a moment before settling against the heat he radiated, and Pope felt it send a shock wave through his system. 

How could Baz, or Smurf, or any of them see what he saw or physically feel what he felt while looking down at the infant they made and not want to give their child everything they had in them? How could Baz look at Lena and not feel grateful that this piece of him and Cath was on this planet? Pope didn’t understand it before becoming a father, but now? He couldn’t comprehend it. 

Pope would move mountains, he’d split rivers, he’d kill or be killed for Thalia. He only had her for minutes and yet he’d burn the world and everyone in it for her. 

“This doesn’t feel real.” Pope whispered, not wanting to disturb Thalia as she fell asleep. Hawk had given him the greatest gift anyone could have given him in his life, and he had no way to outwardly express to her how precious she and their daughter were to him in that very moment. 

she's heeeeeeeeeere

[waynes-multiverse]

Eeeek, I've been waiting the whole week to jumo into this. You had my angsty heart hooked at Colter going missing 😆🫶

“He gets arrested and Reenie bails him out all the time,” he said. “I just texted her. I bet he’s sitting in the station right now because he pissed off some local power hungry…shit.”

Fair assumption. It does happen all the time 😂

And of course Colter would have a security camera in his tiny ass trailer. He even tracks himself lol

You smiled when he got up around six, an unusually cuddly version of Colter appearing on screen. He had a blanket wrapped around his bare shoulders as he shuffled over to his coffee machine, getting a cup brewing. It reminded you of Russell in the morning. He too had a habit of walking around with a blanket first thing. You wondered if that was a Shaw thing or a habit Colter picked up from his big brother when they were kids.

Okay, this is fuckin' adorable 😆💕 (And now I'm thinking about threesomes, so thank you *snorts*)

“I know because this place is isolated, it’s been under construction for years with no progress but the tire tracks we saw were fresh. It’s Duvel’s dumping ground.” He straightened up, hands on his hips. “Qark.” He didn’t have to say it. He wanted you to stay here, out of danger. He’d wanted you away from this kind of life and said it more than once.

Aka Russell is okay with her tracking things not people lol. But they make such a good team! I loved how they played off of one another. If they did this all the time, they'd run Colter out of business 😂

And I legit forgot to quote and comment till now because I'm so hooked on the case! 👀 Of course it's a douchey, rich industry titan with the fucking cops in his pocket. Capitalism and corruption, yay!

He shrugged, green eyes nervous but gentle. “You have let me teach you self-defense, how to reload and shoot, tactics and stealth so you’d be safe doing reward work. You’ve done it all without complaint. I want you to stay at the car but I know my queen of darkness. You can do this. You told me once before you wanted me to show you how to do things, not do them for you. So let’s go do this together.”

Not me crying 😭😭 This is so sweet of him and genuinely a love letter to her in the most Russell way 🥹

And since I know you listened to TTPD while writing the series, I think "So High School" fits them so well – especially the "Are you gonna marry, kiss, or kill me? [...] I'm bettin' on all three for us two" lines lol 😍🤍🖤

“Yeah, keep it up youngin’ and next time you’re in that outfit I’ll teach you a lesson.” You glanced down to his groin, Russell growling. “Y/N.”

That girl is me 🤣

You checked Colter over after cutting him free, a few bruises on the face, bruised ribs from his labored breathing and you winced when you patted his shin and felt how swollen it was. You cut up his pants leg and saw the deep bruising, very highly a broken bone in there.

Right!! I completely forgot she's a doctor for a minute because of all her badass tracker skills at this point, but that's so neat! Colter should take her fucking everywhere. I'm still not over when he got shot with an arrow lmao

You walked backwards out of the room, Colter whining the whole time which frankly scared the fuck out of you.

My poor baby 🥲 Man, Michelle, you roughed that boy up good. Now I'm even more curious what you'll do to him in that serial killer series you've got planned 😆

“I know you know you’re in shock. Everything is fine. All I want you to think about right now is a story I’m going to tell you. Okay? Just lay back and listen.”

My heart 😭😭 And she's so sweet and caring. That little forehead kiss right about killed me!! “I’m sorry, are you a doctor? Do you know what to do if Colter has a heart attack? A seizure? Those are very real possibilities right now, Russell. I need to warm him up and calm him down the right way and I can’t worry about her right now. I need you to take care of her. Please.”

Yes, our girl taking fucking charge!! I loved her during this whole scene with Colter and how she handled Russell, too. You could tell he was worried about his lil bro too and was trying to overshadow it with his usual lighthearted defense mechanism ❤️‍🩹

“My little brother died of hypothermia.” Russell went rigid behind you, turning you in his lap so you’d face him. Your bottom lip wobbled as he pulled you in close, his hands on your back. “The car accident…it was winter. My mom died on impact but we went down a ravine. My dad went to get help for me and my brother but it was so cold and we had no heat and Charlie was so hurt…the last thing he ever said was how cold he was.”

Okay, you're just throwing knives at my heart at this point for target practice 😭😭😭

But at least she got to save Colter now, so maybe it'll heal the wound a little, especially after realizing the truth now. I feel so bad for her. She's truly been through so much in her life 💔 But I love the gentle way Russell always uses with her in these situations. She's been basically been brainwashed her entire life, and Russell is slowly peeling those layers back and clearing her vision. It's so beautiful and sweet and patient and kind of him 🥺

“Why didn’t you tell me you and Russell got engaged?” You glanced down at your hand and the shiny silver band on your finger.

AND THAT'S THE CLOSEST I'VE COME TO MY HEART EXPLODING 😭🥹

“Did you ask him about being in the wedding yet?”

Aww, is Colter gonna be her maid of honor? I could honestly see that with these two besties lol 💕

I can't believe it's almost over! I'll miss these two (three) already 🥹💚💚💚

M.I.A.

Summary: When Colter Shaw calls the reader for help on a job, she thinks nothing of helping out. Only he never shows up and Colter may have just become the latest disappearance in this small town. It’s up to her and Russell to work together to find him before his case goes cold like all the others before…

He's My Man Masterlist

Pairing: Russell Shaw x reader

Word Count: 6,500ish

Warnings: language, kidnapping, violence, torture, mentions of death

A/N: Welcome back to more Russell Shaw! This story is considered a timestamp to He's My Man and it's highly recommended that story be read prior to this one. With Tracker coming up again soon I wanted to dive back into this world with these characters and thought this would be a fun way to check in with the gang. Please enjoy!...

________

“Thanks,” you said to the waitress who refilled your coffee. The diner was quiet, the mid-afternoon lull between the lunch and dinner crowd. You poked at the slice of chocolate pie in front of you and scrolled through your phone, an anxious feeling growing in your gut.

Colter had called last night, asking if you’d be willing to come out and act as his date at a gala event where he was investigating a young woman’s disappearance. Admittedly, you were a bit nervous to accept. You’d only been doing reward work for six months and you’d had success so far with tracking down a few show dogs, a horse, a signed Mickey Mantle baseball card and a stolen car. But you hadn’t dipped your toe into the truly hard stuff yet. People.

After Colter got you to put the phone on speaker, he and Russell had wore you down and convinced you this would be a good first run. It was Colter’s case, you were simply there to help and offer input.

Flirting with a rich playboy Colter suspected of kidnapping the missing woman while he searched the house was also up there on his request list.

It was only a three hour drive to the small town from home and Russell had an important meeting with a brewery investor at lunch so you decided to help him do some last minute prep in the morning before agreeing to catch up with Colter for lunch at a diner. Yet, it was a few minutes past three and you’d heard nothing from him since around midnight the night before.

“Fuck it,” you said, slapping down a ten dollar bill and dialing.

“Hello, hello, qark,” answered Russell, his voice cheery and bright.

“Your lunch went well I’m assuming?” He hummed. “Don’t leave me hanging. What’d you settle on?”

“He gets 5% profit sharing after the first year for five years. By then he said we’d be well established and probably wouldn’t need him anymore. He was a good guy, invited us to get dinner with him and his wife sometime.”

“That’s great, honey,” you said, turning when the bell over the door rang, pouting to find it was a pair of older men that took a seat at a booth. “You haven’t heard from Colter at all, have you?”

“No…he never showed for lunch?” You sighed. “He could have been arrested.”

“Russell,” you chided.

“He gets arrested and Reenie bails him out all the time,” he said. “I just texted her. I bet he’s sitting in the station right now because he pissed off some local power hungry…shit.”

“Shit what?” you asked, taking a big, stress induced bite of pie. 

“Reenie said she hasn’t heard from him.” Russell groaned in the background. You closed your eyes. Today was supposed to be a good day for him. The last thing you wanted was him worrying about his little brother.

“I bet he ate some bad food, puked his guts up in the airstreamer and is sleeping it off. He said he was staying at the Sunny Days Park. I’ll go meet up with him there-”

“I’m coming out there,” said Russell. You rolled your eyes. “If he’s so sick he can’t pick up a phone then he needs help and that girl he’s looking for needs help too.”

“Fine,” you said, your heart rate spiking when you stood. “He’s probably just being his usual anti-social self, right?”

“Yeah. He’s totally known for being flaky on jobs,” deadpanned Russell. “Just…I’m not going to ask you to wait at the diner for me but be careful. Keep your gun on you and you call me when you get to his trailer. I have a bad feeling.”

“Me too,” you whispered. “I’ll call you in ten, Russ.”

You’d frowned when you found Colter’s truck parked in front of the airstream fifteen minutes later. Your pout remained when you cleared the the area and the inside of the trailer, carefully tucking your gun away into the holster on the back of your jeans. “He’s not here, Russell.”

“Anything look off?” he asked through the headphones in your ears. The space at first glance didn’t look out of the ordinary. Computer and maps on the kitchenette table. Coffee mug upside down on the drying rack next to the sink. You stopped short and squatted down, cocking your head.

“There are two pairs of shoes tucked under the table. Boots and trail running shoes.”

“Okay…” You stood up and sighed. 

“Russell, I lived in this trailer for a few days and Colter is a minimalist. There are two pairs of shoes here and he only owns two pairs of shoes. So he’s walking around barefoot? That’s-”

“Not good,” sighed Russell. “Do you see any sign of struggle? Blood? Anything weird? Or missing?”

“Not that I can tell. I didn’t exactly do an inventory of his closet when…” Your eyes zeroed in on a tiny black speck in the corner. “He has a security camera.”

“Call Bobby, see if he can get the footage from a cloud server or something. I’ll call back in a few once I’m on the road.”

“Drive safe, hun.” 

“You be safe. Anything feels fishy, get to a public place and stay there until I get in.”

“I know. Love you.”

“Love you too.” Two minutes later you were on Colter’s computer, Bobby sending you a link to the 24 hour cloud account where Colter’s subscription was saved to once a day.

There were two feeds, one right over the door to the air streamer and the other a wide angled shot staring down the entire length of the trailer. You backed it up to midnight, watching Colter sitting right where you currently were, texting and finishing off his beer. He stretched and stood, putting the empty under the sink.

He hit off a light and you sped it up, Colter padding out once to get a glass of water during the night. You smiled when he got up around six, an unusually cuddly version of Colter appearing on screen. He had a blanket wrapped around his bare shoulders as he shuffled over to his coffee machine, getting a cup brewing.

It reminded you of Russell in the morning. He too had a habit of walking around with a blanket first thing. You wondered if that was a Shaw thing or a habit Colter picked up from his big brother when they were kids.

You watched Colter disappear into the bedroom, exiting in a black tight pullover along with fitted pants for running. He sat at the booth and tugged on his sneakers before knocking back his coffee. He glanced at his phone quickly and tucked it into his pocket before he was gone, the interior still. The video was motionless for another hour when Colter came back inside, a thin layer of sweat on his face. Sneakers were removed and socks tossed into the bedroom, Colter taking deep gulps from a bottle of water. He tucked it back in the fridge and headed for the bedroom when suddenly the airstream door opened. 

Three men in black masks bounded inside, one holding a bulky looking gun. Colter didn’t get more than a step in before cords shot out and you realized he’d been tased. Your heart caught in your throat as he fell to the floor hard, body rigid. His face was etched in pain as he slowly moved his arm but the men were on him fast. Punch to the face, hands zip tied behind his back, tape over his mouth. Colter was out cold when they threw a hood over his head and he was lifted off the ground by a man on either side of him. They quickly left, no one appearing until you found yourself on tape hours later.

“Colter,” you breathed out, looking out the windows, as if he’d suddenly appear safe and sound there. Shakily you dialed Russell, your head in your hands. 

“Hey. You hear from Bobby at all?” You tried to keep your breathing calm, remember the stress management techniques you’d learned in med school. 

You winced, Russell’s voice loud on the other end. “Y/N, answer me.”

“I watched the tape. Russ, s-someone took him. They took Colter right out of the airstream this morning and-”

“Where are you?” You lifted your head, Russell growling. “Where?”

“In the air-”

“Leave right now, right fucking now,” he said. You grabbed the phone, Colter’s computer and a stack of papers nearby before rushing out of there. “Are you out?”

“Yes, I’m in my car,” you said with a pant, tossing everything in your passenger seat and taking off out of the campground.

“Go back to that diner and I’ll meet you there in two hours. If anyone tries anything-”

“I know,” you sighed. “Don’t speed to get here. The last thing we need is you in an accident.”

“Diner. Two hours. Be there.”

Two Hours Later

You munched on a basket of once warm fries as you heard the bell over the door jingle. You eased slightly when Russell headed your direction, wrapping you up in a big hug. “You okay?”

“I’m fine, Russ, I swear.” You sat back in your corner booth, Russell sliding in the opposite side, getting a cup of coffee and burger for himself before you ordered dinner. “How are you holding up?”

Russell didn’t say anything, just had that look on his face he did right before he killed Owen. Honestly, you shared that sentiment. Colter had your back when you were strangers and now when you were family? Yeah, someone was going to pay and dearly.

“Bobby’s been running the video through his programs but couldn’t ID any of the guys. They ditched Colter’s phone outside the airstreamer so no leads there,” you said, passing the computer over to Russell. He watched the video, his eyes twitching momentarily before he took a long, deep breath.

“Can we trace these guys phones?” You shook your head. 

“Bobby tried. No cell activity in the nearby area before or after they…” You swallowed the lump in your throat, Russell reaching across the table and taking your hand in his. “The team’s been trying to find who took Colter while I’ve been looking into his research on the case. I figure he found out who took the woman or got real close without realizing it and that person took him.”

“Smart girl.” Russell cracked a smile, a heavy weight quickly settling back over the table. “But I have a problem with it.”

You nodded, keeping your lips sealed as his food was delivered and you got a plate of eggs and hashbrowns set down before you. “Me too. It doesn’t make sense to take him unless they wanted to know something he knows and they figured he wouldn’t crack immediately.”

“Yup. Aren’t you supposed to go to a party with him tonight?” You stopped with a forkful halfway to your mouth. Russell cocked his head. “He got an invite to that party. For two people. They must think he has a partner and that the partner knows everything Colter does.”

You set your fork down, Russell forcing a smile. “They’re looking for me. Those people are probably hurting him-”

“Hey,” said Russell, voice quiet. Gentle. “They took him because he found out something these people don’t want him to know and he didn’t realize it, not because of you. Let’s figure out what that is and then we’ll come up with a game plan.”

“Okay. Let’s figure this out.”

Forty minutes later, two clean plates and Russell making more than one odd face at the computer screen did it hit you. You slid Colter’s notebook with the name of the party over, Russell’s eyebrow quirking. “What?”

“These people don’t know who I am, otherwise I’d be gone. Colter wanted me to go to this party with him, right? Well, let’s go to the party.” Russell leaned back, closing his eyes. “Isn’t the most likely scenario that the person that took this girl also took Colter? And they clearly are powerful enough to have a few guys working for them. Let’s go to the party full of rich people and see what we can sus out.”

“Y/N.” Russell sighed, rubbing his temple with his palm. “It’s way too dangerous. Just because someone hasn’t come after you doesn’t mean they won’t. We need to figure out what Colter stumbled on-”

“This party,” you said, holding up the notebook, slapping it down. Russell clenched his jaw, relaxing after a beat. “The only research Colter did was on this girl and then there’s the party invite. He wanted to go there for a reason.”

“Alright, alright,” he said, picking it up, flipping through the pages. “How’d he get the invitation in the first place?”

“It’s a charity fundraiser. Anyone in town can go as far as I can tell,” you said. “All I know is he wanted me to be a distraction.”

“Distraction…” Russell typed on Colter’s computer, biting his bottom lip. “Party’s at some older rich dude’s house. Francis Duvel. Sounds like a real upstanding community member.”

“That’s not surprising the wealthy guy is hosting a charity event.” Russell’s eye twitched before he spun around the screen. Your eyes flickered down, reading a headline.

Duvel Industries Once Again Cleared of Safety Allegations; Whistleblower Drops Suit as CEO Vows Quality & Integrity Valued Over Profits

“I couldn’t figure it out earlier but there’s been a pattern of people going missing every so often in this town. Men. Women. Old. Young. Never kids or teens. Always adults. Your missing girl, Alexis Pearson works at-”

“Duvel Industries,” you said, flipping through a paper. “Executive assistant. You think-”

“Poor girl probably found out they were cutting corners somewhere and she said something to the wrong person.” He handed you back the computer and sure enough, all of the people that had “left” town or simply gone missing had at one point or another worked for Duvel Industries.

“How did no one figure this out before? It’s obvious what’s going on,” you said, Russell looking around. “Wait. You think…”

“Article said the local cops found no issues and never have. This charity auction is for the community including-”

“Fuck,” you muttered. “He’s got the sheriff in his pocket, likely a few more cops. No wonder Colter couldn’t just turn over what he found. He couldn’t trust them.”

“He should have called me,” said Russell, closing the computer. He shook his head, staring out at the cloudy evening sky. “I have a friend in the bureau. I could have…”

“So let’s call your friend, get the FBI up here to take a look at Duvel and in the meantime, try to find Colter and Alexis.” For the first time he looked worried and it made your heart clench. “What is it?”

“Alexis is probably already dead and when FBI agents show up at Duvel’s front door, he’s going to kill Colt and the girl if they aren’t already. Y/N, we have to find him tonight.” 

“Okay,” you said, getting up and pulling him into your side of the booth, wrapping an arm around his waist. “Screw the party. That was Colter’s plan. Ours needs to be more direct.”

“What’d you have in mind?”

“Duvel isn’t stupid enough to keep him or Alexis at a place where he’s having the whole town come to, right? So where would you hide them as a CEO?” He smiled, kissing your cheek before pulling out his phone. 

“Bobby, it’s Russell. I need the address of every property owned by Duvel Industries asap.”

One Hour Later

“How do you know it’s this one?” you asked Russell as you got out of his car. He went to the trunk, resting his head against the open thing. “What’s wrong?”

“I know because this place is isolated, it’s been under construction for years with no progress but the tire tracks we saw were fresh. It’s Duvel’s dumping ground.” He straightened up, hands on his hips. “Qark.”

He didn’t have to say it. He wanted you to stay here, out of danger. He’d wanted you away from this kind of life and said it more than once.

Russell reached inside the trunk and opened a black duffel, holding out a black vest to you. It was much smaller than the one he and Colter fit in though. You took the vest, followed by Russell handing you a thigh holster. “I thought you were going to tell me to stay in the car.”

“Don’t get me wrong, I want you to stay here,” he said, bending down to buckle the straps against your thigh, pulling it taut. He looked up with a half-smile before taking your gun from the back holster and putting it inside, tossing the other one in the trunk. 

“What are…” He zipped up your jacket all the way and pulled the vest on over your shoulders, fixing your hood before tightening the sides so the vest hung tight to your body. “Russell.”

He shrugged, green eyes nervous but gentle. “You have let me teach you self-defense, how to reload and shoot, tactics and stealth so you’d be safe doing reward work. You’ve done it all without complaint. I want you to stay at the car but I know my queen of darkness. You can do this. You told me once before you wanted me to show you how to do things, not do them for you. So let’s go do this together.”

You smiled, running your hand over the vest. “How long have you had this?”

“I bought it the first reward job you took. I figured someday you’d need it.” He put on his own gear and locked the car, inhaling deeply. “If you want to change your mind-”

“That building is massive. You can’t go in alone.” He nodded, closing his eyes. “Am I liability to you? Serious question. If I go in there with you, does it make things harder if Colter is in there?”

Russell peeled open his eyes, smirking as he planted both hands on your face and kissed you hard. 

“I always worry, qark. Whether you’re in there or out there.” He touched his forehead to yours, hot breath fanning over you. “You do not have to go in. Absolutely you do not have to. But if my girl wants to do this with me, then I’m glad I’ve got her for a partner.”

“Thank you,” you whispered, Russell lifting you up into a hug. 

“But if shit goes down, you run.” You shrugged, Russell groaning. “Alright, alright, Rambo. Follow my lead and stick close. Bobby’s going to contact my friend in two hours if he doesn't hear from us so let’s get a move on.”

“Age before beauty,” you said. He narrowed his eyes. 

“Yeah, keep it up youngin’ and next time you’re in that outfit I’ll teach you a lesson.” You glanced down to his groin, Russell growling. “Y/N.”

“Sorry.” He nodded, checking his gun before letting in hang by his side.

“Stay low and quiet. Clear your corners and don’t hesitate to use your weapon. You sure you want to go in?”

“Let’s do this.” Russell checked your gear one more time before you headed into the forest, jogging through it for a moment. You stopped at the edge when Russell held up a hand. He reached into his back pocket, revealing a small scope. You knelt by his side, looking around as he mumbled to himself.

“Good news and bad news. Good news is there’s only one vehicle and it’s a car which means most likely there’s four guys or less. Could be more but odds aren’t in favor. No cameras from what I can tell. Bad news is two outside guards. It’s going to be hard to get in.” You pursed your lips. “What are you thinking?”

“If we each get one-” 

“Y/N,” Russell scolded. You frowned, his face softening. “Those guys are huge. Odds are they grab you before you get the guy out cold.”

“Russell. I fought off Owen when I was roofied when I was younger. You have taught me so many moves. I wouldn’t risk Colter if I didn’t know that I can take out a guy that size. Trust me. Please.” He lowered his head, shoulders sagging.

“If he’s not going down, shoot him.” You agreed and then the two of you were jogging across the dark grass, coming to a stop against the concrete wall of the building. Russell pointed you forward and you went ahead of him, gun in front of you, squeezing the cold metal tight.

The guard rounded the corner quickly though, startled by the sight of you. You ducked fast, Russell’s fist flying out where your head had been. It connected hard with the guard’s jaw and he slumped against the wall, crumpling down in a heap. You stood up, Russell tapping your shoulder before stepping in front of you. After a moment the guard was restrained, tape over his mouth. Russell peaked around the corner before holding up a hand for you to stay back before he disappeared. 

Ten seconds later he returned, body slightly less tense. He nodded and you jogged over to him, keeping behind him as you went through the door and past the other out cold guard with hands and feet secured.

The building was large, some warehouse space, offices on either side. Russell sighed silently before going left. You walked backwards behind him for a few minutes as he cleared room after room after room with nothing to show.

“It’s taking too long,” he whispered. “I can’t check every room fast enough if the guards check in on a schedule.”

“I can finish the hall. Do the other side. You’re faster without me,” you murmured. Russell stared at you for five seconds then planted a kiss on your forehead.

“Be safe. I’ll be right back.” Silently, he went the way you’d came from and disappeared around the corner. You turned your attention back on the six or so offices to go with a thick swallow. Without Russell by your side, your nerves came front and center. But you couldn’t stand there forever. There was probably someone else inside and Colter wouldn’t hesitate if you were in his shoes.

You steadied yourself and cleared a dark, empty office, then another. The second to last door pushed open easily, bright light hitting you in the face. 

There was barely enough time to register Colter in a chair, someone behind him with a knife and then the man’s hand was moving fast towards his throat.

The trigger pulled hard as you squeezed it once, twice, three times. You couldn’t hear over the ringing in your ears as you did wide sweeps of the room. No one else was in there and after finding the man slumped on the ground was dead, you rushed to Colter who’s head hung low.

“Colter. Colter,” you urged. He was shaking as you tilted his chin up, a thin line of red on his throat but not deep. You closed your eyes. Fuck, a second later and Colter would have already bled out by now. 

But something wasn’t right. His clothes were wet, skin ice cold. Your eyes darted upwards when you felt cold air conditioning kick on overhead. It was only then that you noticed the dead man was wearing a winter jacket for some reason.

You checked Colter over after cutting him free, a few bruises on the face, bruised ribs from his labored breathing and you winced when you patted his shin and felt how swollen it was. You cut up his pants leg and saw the deep bruising, very highly a broken bone in there.

Another gun shot rang out nearby and you spun around with your gun, aiming at the door. Russell appeared a few moments later, sighing in relief. But his face fell when he saw Colter violently shaking in the chair, arms wrapped tight around himself.

“What’s-”

“He’s hypothermic,” you said, cutting up his pants, Colter shaking his head. “We need to get him out of these wet clothes and warmed up now.”

“Y/N-”

“Russell, he’s not stable.” You finished cutting off his pants and had his pullover halfway off. “Call your FBI friend and tell him we need a med evac to a level 1 trauma center. In the meantime, go kill the A/C and get my med kit from the car.”

“Got it,” he said, turning to leave. “I found Alexis.”

You looked over your shoulder at him, Russell smiling. “She’s roughed up but she convinced these guys-”

“I’m sorry but does she need medical attention, yes or no?” He shook his head. “Then go do as I ask.”

Russell took off down the hall, Colter’s wet clothes dropping to the ground. You got behind him and put your arms under him and around his chest, hoisting him up.

He screamed at the sudden pain in his side and leg but you could deal with that later. Right now, he was too fucking cold. You walked backwards out of the room, Colter whining the whole time which frankly scared the fuck out of you.

Colter was stoic. Tough as nails like Russell. Calm in moments of terror.

Scared, hurt, out of control Colter made you heart feel like it was being stabbed.

“S’okay, Colt. I got you. You’ll feel better real soon,” you said, dragged him down the hall and into an office you’d found a couch in earlier. You jerked when you noticed a shadow at the doorway.

Alexis was hiding halfway behind the doorframe, wide eyed at you. “I-I can help.”

“You know what a space heater is?” She nodded quickly. “Find them and bring them back here. Quickly. I saw a few in this hallway.”

She ducked away as you lowered Colter to the ground and plugged in the space heater you’d saw in there, turning it to the max. 

You found a wooden chair and kicked at it with your boot until it broke apart. Taking two long pieces, you placed them on either side of Colter’s leg and removed your vest, jacket and shirt. 

“And you said my red jacket was ugly,” you teased, laying it over his shivering form. “Too visible if I recall.”

His fingers squeezed the material so tight it started to tear, your heart breaking for him. You leaned down close, wiping the wetness out of his hair with your shirt. With a sigh you kissed his forehead, Colter mumbling something you couldn’t make out.

“I know you know you’re in shock. Everything is fine. All I want you to think about right now is a story I’m going to tell you. Okay? Just lay back and listen.” You soaked up more water with your shirt and leaned back, removing your tank top, leaving you in just a black bra. “You know Russell bought me this bra back when we went on that trip to Paris last month. I know we told you about it and you did a lot of humming like you couldn’t care less, remember?”

You shredded the tank top with your hands into strips, laying them over and under his broken leg. “I’m going to splint your leg now.”

“So there was I,” you said, pulling tight, Colter nearly doubling over as you did the few other spots quickly. “In Paris with your brother of all people and he’s bought me all these nice pajamas and lounge sets and other things you don’t need to know about when he says, let’s take a few days trip to Africa. Let’s go to the desert. Now, I don’t know about you but if you’ve never been to the desert, it’s hot as fuck.”

You made sure his leg was straight before fixing your coat on him, Colter shivering into your hand. Alexis returned with three space heaters and you quickly go them on and around him.

“When you’re in the desert, you can feel the sun prickle your skin. You know that feeling? The heat from the rays literally warming you, getting inside. It makes you so hot. It reflects off the sand, like hot sand at a beach, right back at you. It’s like you’re on a baking sheet, hot out of the oven, baked on all sides.”

Colter was still shivering but he was starting to relax, less violent shakes coming out now. 

“You ever have a sunburn like that? I bet you did. Your nose and cheeks got all red, your skin so hot. I know you Shaw boys were always outside. Russell gets these freckles when he’s out in the sun. Do you get them too? A nice hot summer day, out on the water with a warm breeze.”

Russell entered the room, kneeling beside you. “Chopper will be here in thirty.”

“Okay,” you said, Colter’s head turning to the side. “Rest up for me big guy.”

You got up and pulled Russell to the back corner, nodding at Alexis sitting on the couch. “What?”

“Russell, you should take her to the nearest hospital.” He frowned, biting his tongue though as you held up your hands. “She’s not as bad as your brother but she’s dehydrated and cold.”

“No, I need to stay here in case Duvel’s guys show up. You take her-”

“I’m sorry, are you a doctor? Do you know what to do if Colter has a heart attack? A seizure? Those are very real possibilities right now, Russell. I need to warm him up and calm him down the right way and I can’t worry about her right now. I need you to take care of her. Please.”

He closed his eyes. “Fine but I’m tossing those two guys in the trunk of their car. And put your vest back on. And keep an eye on the door-“

“Shaw.” He opened his eyes, finding you glaring at him. 

“Please help him the best you can,” he whispered. You hugged him, Russell squeezing you tight before he was moving and out the door with Alexis under his arm. Only the hum of the space heaters and Colter’s incoherent mumblings could be heard as you sat down beside him. 

“Here you go,” you said, resting the vest over his injured leg to try and give him some warmth. You held your gun in your hand as the other rested on his forehead. Fuck, he was still too cold. Slowly, he peeled open his eyes, looking so young for the briefest of moments. “I have one last idea. But it’ll hurt.”

He nodded very slowly before closing his eyes tight. “I’ll be right back.”

You jogged out to the warehouse and hit the switch to open the bay door, quickly breaking into the luxury car out front and pulling it in. You left it on and hit the heated seats to low, rushing back to Colter where he was breathing shallowly. “Come on, bud. This should help.”

He groaned when you pulled him through the halls and out to the warehouse, cursing a long string of profanities at you that felt like the closest Colter Shaw had ever gotten to going absolute ape shit.

The ache in your chest eased when he hissed at the contact with the seats and then, you swore on your life, he cooed like a newborn baby. With the heat blasting in the car and thanks to the seats warming his bare skin, he finally passed out with a smidge more color to his skin.

“Okay,” you sighed, resting your head against the wheel. “You’re going to be okay.”

The Next Evening

“Hey,” said Russell. You didn’t acknowledge him as you watched flames flicker in the outdoor fireplace back at home. He sat down on the couch behind you, pulling you back into his lap. “Can’t sleep?”

“No,” you said, leaning your head back against his shoulder. You tucked yourself into him, Russell wrapping his arms around your body. “How’s Colter? He sleeping yet?”

“Oh, he’s annoying as hell. Little shit thinks he’ll be driving out of here tomorrow morning.”

You groaned, Russell humming. “He broke his damn leg. He isn’t driving for at least a month. He is staying with us at a minimum until that cast is off.”

“I’m not the one you have to argue with.” You sighed, Russell’s long legs shifting around to lay over top of yours. “You want to talk about it?”

Your eyes welled up, Russell sensing your tension. Your eyelids squeezed tight, something heavy boiling up under your skin.

“What’s the hardest thing? Killing someone? Or almost losing Colter?” he asked quietly. You shrugged, turning your head down to your lap. “He hurt-”

“My little brother died of hypothermia.” Russell went rigid behind you, turning you in his lap so you’d face him. Your bottom lip wobbled as he pulled you in close, his hands on your back. “The car accident…it was winter. My mom died on impact but we went down a ravine. My dad went to get help for me and my brother but it was so cold and we had no heat and Charlie was so hurt…the last thing he ever said was how cold he was.”

You looked over Russell’s shoulder at the dark lake, save for a few homes with lights on across the water.

“I don’t care that I killed that son of a bitch after what he did to Colt. But I just…” You inhaled shakily, gripping Russell’s hoodie tighter. He shushed you, rubbing his hand up and down your back. 

“He’s home with us. He’s safe,” said Russell softly. Long fingers stroked through your hair, tucking you into his neck. “I think Charlie would be really proud of you for protecting Colter like you did.”

“I should have protected him too,” you mumbled. Russell sighed, quietly embracing you. “You’re an older sibling. You understand.”

“Bullshit.” You leaned back fast, glaring at his stern green eyes. “Your dad was an amazing doctor and he left two injured kids. He was either a moron which I doubt or your brother had internal bleeding which made him say he was cold. If it was hypothermia you would have died too.”

“No, my dad said-”

“Was this before or after Owen’s fucked up mob family started drugging your dad so he had psychosis?” Your voice caught in your throat. Russell raised his eyebrows. “Sweetie, do you even know why Charlie died?”

“It was hypo…” You unraveled yourself from him, planting your bare feet on the warm deck. You gripped the couch cushions, closing your eyes, medical facts bouncing around your head. “Jesus, Russ. Why did I think…”

“Because your dad said it. He probably never even remembered he did. Deep down, he didn’t blame you so you shouldn’t blame yourself.”

You stood up, stepping in front of the fire with your arms crossed. You titled your head back, inhaling deeply. “He said a lot of mean things when I was a teenager, as I got older. But at the funeral…he was still himself. He didn’t…”

“No, he didn’t.” Russell stood behind you, curling his arms around your chest, trapping you against his strong warm frame. “So back to my original statement. Charlie, hell your parents too, I know they’re proud of you.”

“I killed a guy,” you scoffed.

“You saved a woman, helped catch a murderer, expose corruption throughout a small town, bring closure to a dozen families with missing loved ones-”

“Russell,” you groaned.

“And you saved my little brother’s life all while risking your own. We are damn proud of you, my queen of darkness.” Your head tilted backwards to look at him, Russell grinning back. “No objection?”

“Fine. You wore me down. I did good,” you grumbled. He chuckled against your ear, giving you a tight hug.

“The words every man loves to hear from his girl,” he laughed, giving you space to turn and hug him back. “You want to try sleeping?”

“In a minute. I want to check on him quick.”

“Don’t be long,” he whispered. He pressed his lips to your forehead, letting them linger. You gave him a hum and slipped inside, walking down the hall to the guest room. You cracked open the door slowly, Colter laying in bed with a frown.

“Need some pain killers?” you whispered as you entered, shutting the door behind you. 

“No,” he grumbled, glancing up at you when you took two pills out of the bottle on the nightstand. “I overheard you and Russell.”

You sat on the edge of the bed, Colter grabbing your arm. He tried to sit up, relenting when you pushed on his shoulder. “Rest. I know that’s a foreign word to you but you have to take things slow if you want to recover correctly.”

“And you need to realize this job is dangerous and I am not your responsibility.”

“No, you’re not.” You ruffled his messy hair gently, Colter pouting. “But that’s what family does for each other.”

He wanted to retort but bit his tongue, grumbling as you fixed his blankets and made him take a painkiller. 

“Why didn’t you tell me you and Russell got engaged?” You glanced down at your hand and the shiny silver band on your finger. 

“When did you notice?”

“When you shot that guy. It helped to think of something else for a bit.” You nodded, playing with the ring. “When’d he ask?”

“About a week ago. We wanted to surprise you and Dory.” His hand fell down to yours, giving it a light squeeze. “Colter, I know you have your issues with your brother but we love you. I know you’re going to hate it but you need to stay here for awhile. At the very least you need to stay with Dory if not us. You can’t be alone right now.”

“I will try to not complain too much,” he said. You smiled, leaning down to hug him. “Thank you for finding me.”

“Let’s not make a habit of it is all,” you said, getting up and pushing his glass of water closer. “Need anything else?”

“I’m good.” You went to the door, Colter clearing his throat. “Y/N?”

“Yeah?”

“That red jacket is still fucking obnoxious.” You flipped him off, Colter cracking a smile. 

“Goodnight, asshole.” You turned off his light for him and found Russell curled up in the blankets in bed.

“How’s the patient?” he mumbled, big spooning you as soon as you were tucked under the covers. 

“He’s going to be alright.” 

“Did you ask him about being in the wedding yet?”

“One step at a time, hun.” He chuckled, burying his face against the back of your neck. 

“Try to get some rest too, qark.” You closed your eyes, nodding once. “Love you.”

“Love you too, Russ.”

___________

[whatever1728]

"Love, I'm not loving you any less because of it"

a/n: had this random thought about Pau and was like "YES, finally write some fluff"

summary: in which Pau tells his girlfriend who is 3 years older that he is a virgin and she was his first ever kiss and feels shy about it, but reader is extremely loving and reassures him that it doesn't matter to her, it only matters to her so she can make his first time special when he is ready

warnings: mentions of sex, making out

part 2

💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜

Pau thought this would be like any other day. He woke up in his dormroom in La Masia, took a shower, got dressed and went to have breakfast with some of his dormmates. After eating, he went back to his room and studied for a while, training with the first team start at 10 o'clock today. So he had approximately an hour to study since it was now 8:30. He sent a 'goodmorning amor' to his girlfriend of 6 months, just like every other morning. Neither of you were huge on texting, always prefering to call one another.

You had a pretty dull morning. You woke up with a bit more energy buzzing beneath your skin because you slept well but that's about it. You had classes early today. So you got your gear and rode your motorcycle. By the time Pau's text arrived you already were on your way to the University campus. You replied to his text quickly before entering the amphitheatre.

Fortunately, since his training was early and your classes ended around 2, you both had the evening free to enjoy each other. Most likely, Pau would come over, you would cook something together -meaning you would cook while he hugged you and kissed your shoulder blades- and then you would watch a movie while you cuddled, possibly make out a bit and that's about it. Honestly, those quiet evenings were you didn't have to care about uni work and Pau didn't have to think about the pressure of the football world were always the best.

Amor 😍😍

Love I am going to be home a bit after 2,

when is training over?

I will be done before you get home guapa

I'll head back to my dorm to study for a bit,

will be at yours around 3 propably 🤗🤗

That's fine amor 💕

See u then 😘

With your date later settled, you went to the cafeteria with some of your friends before the next lecture started.

"So what plans do you all have for the evening?" Carla asked

"I'm hanging out with my boyfriend..." you replied

"Ohhh, we want details tomorrow girl, you never tell us anything spicy" Aria said

"That's 'cause nothing spicy happens, apart from make out sessions that is" you told her

"Why though? How come you haven't crossed that line?" Isa questioned

"Honestly, I don't know, whenever it gets heated he turns me down" you asked, getting concerned

Now that you actually talked aloud about it, it made you realize that you've been a bit careless, you just thought Pau was tired or just not in the mood. Now you understood something else was going on.

"Do you think I should talk to him about it?" you asked the girls

"If I were you, I would. He is younger, maybe he is just shy or something" Lia expressed, and in the end she wasn't far from the truth.

💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜

When midday rolled around, Pau took a cab from his dorm to your place. He knew he was a bit earlier than he said, but when he saw your motorcycle parked outside he realized you were already home. He knocked on the door and waited.

You didn't take long to open it.

"Hola amorcito" you said and kissed him gently on the lips

"Hola" he replied, a bit breathless, you always took his breath away with the way you kissed him.

"I'm making carbonara" you informed him lightly

"You always nail that and I love your cooking, whatever you make"

He followed you in the kitchen like usual. You chatted for a while before the cooked ingredients needed your attention again. Then he -as expected- hugged you from behind and rested his head on your shoulder, his arms circling your waist, his palms resting on opposite hips.

You ate while talking about the latest news each of you had. Pau told you how Pique came to see them during training and how he complimented him. Pau was more than thrilled that one of his idols, a person he looked up to and who many compared him with was so awestruck by his performance.

When you finished eating, the two of you decided to watch the first episode of a new series that seemed promising. However, not long after the beginning of the episode, you started making out. He teased you about something and you decided that you had to shut him up after such a comment. It grew heated quickly. He picked you up easily, his strong arms grabbing your hips, and got you seated on his lap. With one hand, you grabbed his hair, tilting his head up to have better access to his lips and later his neck and jawline. Your other hand was teasing the line of his t-shirt, barely grazing his skin.

You started caressing his skin and went to raise his shirt up. At that moment he stopped you, again. You were left confused. You could feel his erection through his jeans and your shorts, so why did he stop you yet again. He pushed you off his lap gently.

"Pau, talk to me, what's going on?"

"What do you mean?" he replied a bit nervously, his hands twiching.

"Your hiding something from me..."

"No..."

"Yes..." you teased him with a smile, hoping to ease his nerves so he would open up

"I just... ahhh how do I even tell you?" he seemed concerned and a bit panicked.

"Love, just talk whatever it is, I won't judge you for anything, you know that" you spoke calmly

"I..I... look, I didn't tell you 'cause I'm really shy and embarrassed about it" he said, mumbling a bit.

"Guapo, tell me there is no need to feel embarrassed, it's just me your talking to"

"Okay, well yo-you were my first ever kiss..."

"Ohh love..." you said, a smile tugging at you lips, then came the realization and you grew serious

"Wait, but that means..."

"I'm still a virgin? Yes..." at that Pau covered his face with his hands, feeling exposed

"Baby, look at me..."

However, he didn't move. You gently got a hold of his chin, lifting it up so he would look at you, his eyes teared up.

"Oh my god amor shhh... come here" you hugged him tightly, sensing how streesful this was for him, even though it shouldn't have been.

"Why didn't you tell me love? It's okay, god above it's more than okay, it doesn't change the love I hold for you or how important you are to me"

"I-I don't know, I just-I thought you would leave me...I-I thought you would realize that I-I'm still just a-a kid and leave me-e because of it" he said between sobs

"No, baby look at me. If I knew I would have stopped, I didn't know it made you uncomfortable"

"Bu-but it didn't-t, I felt comfortable every time, it felt natural, I just-t never had the guts to admit it-t because I couldn't face the fear of you leaving me..."

"Amor, that will never happen... I love you, you're easily the best thing that has happened to me, it doesn't matter to me that you don't have experience, the only thing that changes is that I will try as hard as I can to make your first time special, okay?"

He nodded, unable to form words with everything he was feeling. He just buried his face in the crook of your neck for a couple of minutes, while you stroked his hair. A couple of minutes after he managed to calm down. He looked up at you, sea green eyes wide, blue and green always dancing in those irises of his.

"I am ready though..." he said quietly.

"Not today love, today you had a lot to deal with and your mind was a turbulent sea. I'm going to do this the right way, come pick you up from your dorm with my car and we will go to a nice restaurant by the sea, then go for a walk and watch the sunset and if it feels right we will end up back here, okay??"

"I-okay..."he said with blush painting his cheeks.

"Te adoro, carino" you replied and kissed his nose. You got a blanket for the two of you and cuddled up to him, while you rewound the episode. 💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜

[mulders-too-large-shirt]

s7 episode 21 “je souhaite” thoughts

welcome back to M2LS for the newest episode liveblog!

i have to say, this feels monumental. we are almost at the end of s7. i know a lot of people enjoy this episode, and i’m in the mood for something light and airy before we descend into the s8 angst. 

yes, you must recall that i googled this show and read the wikipedia page a year ago before i started watching it, so i know some things. but to be honest, i’m kind of sickly excited for the s8 angst😈there are some particular tropes at play that i’m looking forward to investigating.

but! we have to get there first. and i plan on getting all of my s7 stuff around before watching the finale for cliffhanger reasons. and also, my posting will probably get way less regular very shortly… but it was a brilliant year of 2 or 3 posts a week that we shared. 

anyway. let us get comfy and cozy and started!

reading the description… a man without a mouth…? a corpse without a head? a genie?? what will mulder wish for!! and why the french title… lmao. let us see

(post-episode thoughts: peace and love. and also may i SPECIFICALLY note goodwill toward men!!!!)

we open in missouri. someone is looking for anson, who is reading a magazine filled with pictures of boats. i support him chilling in a storage unit and looking at boats instead of working. 

he hasn’t cleared out 407! oh. don’t tell him he won’t amount to anything! “a monkey could do this job, right, jay?” “well, you can’t, so what’s that say about you?” <- OOP! jay commands him to go clean out 407 THIS INSTANT!

he cracks the lock on the storage unit, which is filled with old furniture covered in plastic. and many cobwebs. and a rug. with something in it! it jumps! then unrolls it as spooky music plays…. OH! a woman? with a gem under her eye! was chilling in the rug!

she opens her eyes…. and he seems to have vanished! jay comes back to the carpet rolled out. but then jay starts to grunt. HE LOST HIS MOUTH? well. that must be the guy without a mouth part of the episode explained.

how will bro eat or drink!!!

intro time… literally GET spooky with it. i love the scene of baby agents with the guns. very short intro. we must have an action-packed episode.

mulder is at the desk, asking someone- who i presume to be jay- if he can get him some coffee, or water, or anything. he shakes his head no. probably because he has no mouth. and mulder goes over more paperwork, bouncing his pen around. i do love that man.

OHHH SCULLY… she opens the door, says good morning, and then makes a very funny face at mulder when she realizes there is someone else in their space. AWWWW. my princess :(

LMAOOOO her pointing and mouthing “who is that?” I LOVE HERRRR!

LMAOOOOO, THE WAY SHE GASPS WHEN SHE SEES HIS FACE AND THEN CATCHES HERSELF WITH A “NICE TO MEET YOU” <- THAT IS MY QUEEN!!! she wants to be POLITE!!!

it seems jay cannot say certain words. mulder shows scully the pictures of his mouthlessness, while jay says that anson did this to him. so i guess they cut him a new mouth somehow. which is good, all things considered! glad he found a doctor who could do that.

so anson told jay to shut up and then… jay had no mouth. yeah. anson was found several days later, but refused questioning. mulder points out they had nothing on anson- but politely!

“they had to make me a whole new mouth”, replies jay, and that would also make me so mad, so i sympathize

poor guy is mopping up his new mouth blood…

the agents head to mark twain trailer court in missouri, which must have been a long drive slash flight.

scully is telling mulder about the effects of a disease known as scleroderma, which is the overproduction of collagen, and i love her so dearly. there is so much tenderness in my heart for her. but mulder is like… that doesn’t just happen in a blink of an eye! mulder shoulder grab….

she’s still coming up with various medical reasons for a vanished mouth. and i see this episode was written and directed by our friend vince. tbh, i can’t really remember if he has a certain style of episode. i’ll probably figure it out along the way. 

(so. i see he's a little shippy at moments)

LMAO, SCULLY GRABS HIM AS THEY SEE THE GIANT BOAT IN THE MIDDLE OF THE TRAILER PARK… this show is so funnyyyyy sometimes.

anson sees them approach, saying they must be from the IRS, and warns someone named leslie to get rid of them. scully says hi :) and leslie starts to stutter that the boat is not theirs! they’re… holding it for someone else. “and they pay the taxes on it” “oookay” <- AWWWW. i love her reactions when people are being weird.

leslie tries to shut the door in their faces, but mulder does not allow this. oh, leslie is anson’s brother. mulder sees someone in the back… and says hello. she looks goth.

leslie says jay’s mouth thing comes from chemicals. like, one time, his brother found a guy with a meth lab in the storage unit, so, they should check that out. LMAO.

mulder declares he knows what is going on here… then they investigate the storage unit of mystery. he finds a calendar from 1978, and scully says it’s too bad, this furniture is really wonderful. (my heart skipped a few beats at her admiration of it all)

it’s expensive- very expensive. tell us more about your fancy furniture knowledge, queen. maybe anson stole something from in here and then dipped. and then used the money to buy a boat… “there’s your crime: theft”

my heart is just overcome with love for these two. idk what is wrong with me on this fine evening. maybe nothing is wrong with me and everything is supremely right. 

mulder finds a picture in a frame and calls her over. it’s a picture of a guy with three women surrounding him- one of which was the goth lady from the trailer! chilling in a fancy car. queen. and she hasn’t aged at all, despite the photo being very old. 

anson says that he has two down, nothing to show for it. “you got the boat” points out leslie. which anson declares has done him no good! goth lady says it’s like a white elephant. “so what the hell did you give it to me for?” “because you asked for it” <- ohhhh, clock his tea!!! he argues that he shouldn’t have had to specify the boat should have gone in some water!

this genie queen…. 

OH. leslie says maybe he could use the last wish to get rid of the boat, and anson threatens to put him in a home. now, i can support slacking off at work, but i cannot support this sort of language. genie is playing with the TV remote that is in the shape of a woman’s body. classy

“you could always give that guy his mouth back” LMAOOOO 

leslie suggests money. an infinite number of wishes. she kills both of those ideas quick. 

“you know, i have a thought. granted, it’s pretty obvious” (she gestures to leslie’s wheelchair) LMAOOO they don’t pick up on what she is saying at ALLLLLLL 

anson FINALLY says he is absolutely ready: he wishes he could turn invisible at will. use it to sneak around, pick up stock tips, snoop on women. james bond stuff. she tells him it is unoriginal. and then declares that it is done. 

BUT HE DIDN’T SPECIFY THE CLOTHES PART, LMAOOOO. absolute rookie mistake.

so he strips right there. she asks him to please turn invisible. and he does! then he goes for a walk. runs straight into some trash cans. he is on his way. hollering about being invisible. 

goth genie disappears. her work is done. anson runs around, invisibly kicking and pushing stuff. sees some women across the street. presses the crosswalk to approach them in a creepy man fashion. but the cars can’t see him!!! and he gets hit by a tractor trailer!!! 

well. instant justice for objectifying those women.

an undisclosed amount of time later, a biker trips over his rotting invisible corpse.

scully is here. an empty stretcher is pulled into her lab. and the assistants ask if they can leave. an autopsy on an invisible guy! that has to be new for her.

she traces his figure. looking for that glowy powder. gently taps it on….. she looks so excited. LMAOOO, LOOK AT HER HAVING FUN WITH IT. girl is gonna need soooo much of that stuff. she makes out a face!!!

eventually, she has made the whole guy yellow. and mulder comes by to antagonize her. the body has a perfect match to anson’s dental records- scully thinks he must have been hit by a car or truck. “and he’s invisible” “yes, he is” <- she seems soooo excited. i’m happy for her.

OHHH, she says it is the best thing she has seen in their 7 years working together. it will change the boundaries of science! she is covered in yellow powder, and he looks at her like she’s the whole world, which she is.

mulder says it is amazing, but he doesn’t think it has anything to do with science. sad scully face. he looked up that guy from the photograph they found back in the storage unit- turns out he made $30 million in a year. and then died of… hold on, let me google something. she is sooo taken aback by whatever it is he says.

ah. death by extreme boner. LOOK AT HER FACEEEE, she does not wanna think about that, LMAOOOOOO

he thinks the mystery woman is the link between the strange old man and anson's case, and therefore they ought to investigate. but scully wants to stay with the body to make sure no one comes and messes with it- it is truly amazing. and he nods and smiles. she is still covered in yellow. i love her soooo much. 

back at the trailer park, “you suck” has been written on leslie’s boat, while mulder tells him he is very sorry for his loss. leslie wants to know if his brother suffered- mulder says no, but asks about the invisible thing. and then where the woman went. he thinks she is a genie! and then they start singing a song together. good for them, i suppose.

leslie says he doesn’t know what mulder talking about. and mulder says you should hand me the object containing the genie right now- for your own safety. leslie wheels away. grabs a case of something. hands it to mulder. who tells him he is doing the right thing. did he really give him it?? i don’t buy it…

scully is taking a million pictures of invisible man while leslie goes back to the storage unit to see if the genie has returned…

OHH, scully doesn’t want to leave the dead guy. “come on, he’s not going anywhere” <- OHHH HER PAINED EXPRESSION… I LOVE HERRR. and she says “bye” to the body before leaving, then tells mulder so excitedly that a group of researchers will be flying in from harvard to inspect him!!

she investigates the little box leslie gave him… which mulder says is what the brothers keep their weed in. LMAO, HER FACE AGAIN- THIS WOMAN IS KILLLLLING ME.

why do i feel the body is going to go missing….

OH! mulder pulls up a video of mussolini which has the genie woman next to him, LMAOOOO. i did not see that coming. he ran her image through the facial recognition database and then the national archives. AWW. he is so clever. 

and then she’s with nixon!!! “both men who got all the power they ever wished for and then lost it” <- ohhh…. very interesting. maybe the act of wishing is doomed in itself… or maybe their wishes were stupid, and mulder can come up with the perfect ones.

back at the storage unit, leslie has found the genie!!! “can we just get this over with, please? three wishes. go” <- LMAOOO I LOVE HER. so she must live in the rug and he brought the rug back to the boat.

she gestures to leslie and says “your disability” …. LMAOOOOOO, HE SAYS HE COULD WISH FOR A SOLID GOLD WHEELCHAIR- BAHAHA, KING!!!

but there is something he wants more than a solid gold wheelchair. is he going to wish for his brother back? what will happen to the body if he does??

scully presents the body to the team of researchers…. but there’s nothing there. NOOOOOO, POOR THING. she’s reaching for him and coming up with nothing.

anson is a zombie!! leslie is not pleased. he did not ask to bring him back to normal- just back. another technicality oversight.

so leslie wishes zombie anson could talk- even though genie says no, you don’t- he insists. and zombie anson just opens his mouth and SCREAMS.

OH, POOR SCULLY SAYS SHE SHOULD SHOOT HERSELF AS MULDER INVESTIGATES WHERE THE BODY WAS…. NOOOO QUEEN, NEVER KILL YOURSELF!!! she was so happy. she thinks it was too good to be true. in her sweet green sweater. mulder says he thinks the disappearance was the result of a wish. who would want anson back? 

cut back to the boat with leslie, where anson is STILL SCREAMING, LMAOOO. he asks leslie what he did to him. leslie wheels away, muttering he wasted two wishes on him. anson turns on the stove…. he tries to light a match as leslie plans his third wish. 

the agents return to the boat as anson tries to light a match. leslie decides on his final wish: LEGS!!! but anson lights the match and blows the whole place up just as he makes his choice! the agents are nearly blown away!!! SCULLY BLOWING HER HAIR OUT OF HER FACE AS SHE IS SPRAWLED ON THE PAVEMENT, LMAOOO

and the rug THUDS behind them. 

THEY FIND THE GENIE!!!! he asks to call her jen. scully wants an explanation!!! mulder wants to know if she is a good or evil genie! “the only thing you people are cursed with is stupidity” <- get their asses. people have not changed a bit, she says. but they smell better now. 

“you’re saying that you have been a firsthand witness to 500 years of human history” <- oh scully, you big nerd, i would ask the same question.

she says she used to be human in 15th century france. she unrolled a rug. found a genie. asked for a mule, a sack that was always full or turnips (amazing!), and then…. great power and a long life. but in french, of course. hence the title of the episode. she says she should have been more specific. 

she wants to know if she’s under arrest, and scully is like… well, can’t think of anything you did, so feel free to go. but she can’t! mulder has to make his wishes! bro begins to contemplate. 

will his overthinking prove worthwhile?

back in his apartment, the genie says she doesn’t think scully likes her very much, LMAO. “oh, i don’t think she knows what to make of you” <- a very measured response. and he doesn’t know what to make of her either!

he tries to ask what her wish would be… she wants to live life moment-by-moment instead of worrying about what it isn’t. she’d drink coffee and watch the world go by. 

“you say that most people make the wrong wishes, right?” “without fail. it’s like giving a chimpanzee a revolver” LMAOO

he thinks the trick would be to make a wish that benefits everyone. 

he asks for peace on earth. she groans. “what the hell’s wrong with that? you can’t do it?” and then it’s done. he looks out the window….. everyone is gone!!!! NOOOOOOOO. he asks for scully, LMAOOO. aww, he goes back to their office…. calls out for anyone…. looks for skinner…… calls the genie back. “you know damn well that is not what i meant” 

LMAOOOO, SHE IS BULLYING HIMMM

AND HE WISHES TO UNDO THE WISH AND STARTS YELLING AT HER… BUT HE IS IN SKINNER’S OFFICE AND HIM AND A TON OF OTHER PEOPLE REAPPEAR IN A MEETING WHILE HE IS TEARING INTO HER

“i think there another possibility here, and that’s just that you’re a BITCH” <- LMAOOOO

NOOOOOOO, SKINNER HEARS ALL THIS!!!

so mulder is typing up his final wish on the computer so he can get it PERFECT using super legal language that CANNOT be misinterpreted.

in comes scully, saying skinner called to check on him- is everything alright? “you don’t remember disappearing off the face of the earth for about an hour this morning?” “no” “well, i guess everything’s okay”

i predict that he is going to wish for this genie to be free so no one else can make these sorts of mistakes… and also because he is a nice guy deep down

LMAOOOOO, THE WAY SHE TURNS AND ASKS THE GENIE IF SHE COULD GIVE THEM A MINUTE PLEASE, BAHAHAAAA. the genie doesn’t go anywhere. “like today?” and then she is gone. 

love when scully gets so mad her carefully curated facade of politeness cracks- it always makes me giggle… tell that genie to GTFO so you and the bestie can have a chat, dr. scully. i support you!

if this REALLY is a genie- what he is doing is very dangerous! he thinks he can make a perfect wish and fix the world. “maybe it’s the whole point of our lives here, mulder- to achieve that. maybe it’s a process that one man shouldn’t try and circumvent with a single wish” <- ohhh, scully and her wisdom… and mulder and his puppy dog eyes…. she goes to leave. he keeps typing. then he says he is ready for his last wish.

AWWW, I PAUSED TO SEE THE THING HE WAS TYPING BEFORE HE TURNED IT OFF. it reads, in part: “i hereby do lay out my wish with consideration of every loophole possible” <- awwww, he was trying so hard!!! he wants to save the world!

back at his place, he puts in a movie with scully, teasing her about not wanting butter on her popcorn. they’re watching caddyshack. “it’s a classic american movie” “that’s what every guy says. it’s a guy movie” “okay, when you invite me over to your place, we can watch steel magnolias” LMAOOOO. they crack open some beers (possibly some other generic sort of soda or bottled beverage, but it LOOKS like a damn beer. only making note of this because i know what happens in the next episode). she laughs as he tries to toss his cap into the trash and misses.

ohhhhh, so they must not do regular movie nights… it seems like that anyway, based off of how she asks what the occasion is. well, don’t worry. movie nights are still gonna happen in fanfiction, even if they don’t talk about anything deep.

seems like he is willing to do at least a LITTLE deep talking tonight, though: “i don’t know if you noticed, but i never made the world a happier place” “well, i’m fairly happy. that’s something” <- OHHHHHH MY GOD. i’m gonna fall to my knees. and they smile at each other. she asks about his final wish. 

and we see that the genie is…. watching life go by in a cafe!! drinking a coffee!!

OHHH MY GOD.

immediately rewinds. 

i need to google what caddyshack is. it is a comedy about golf. writing that down to inform his taste on other matters. OHHHH, and his “i don’t know. just felt like the thing to do” when she asks why a movie night… STOP.

i kept thinking they were going to kiss again, but they didn’t. THEIR SMILES AT EACH OTHER…….

stop. mulder choosing to wish for something that would help the genie….. because he knew he couldn’t fix everything on his own… and he realized this only because scully pointed it out to him... an actual moment where he recognizes his well-meaning hubris... and the genie’s smile as she gets to live her dream… he is just a nice guy…

rewatches the scene AGAIN. her laughter when he misses the trashcan. and her nervous tapping fingers on the bottle. the fish tank in the background. and her smile when she says “that’s something” and he’s looking at herrrrr and AUGH.

and the way they get to have this rare moment of peace after so much pain…. oh my GOD, i need to lay down.

and knowing what i know happens next…. well. like i said, maybe it’s root beer and not real beer. maybe there’s a time skip of a few significant weeks or months between this episode and the next. the designs on the bottles are vague!!

RAHHHH i need to explode a little, please give me five minutes. 

(watches it again) the way she looks at him when she asks what his final wish was, AHHHH

oh my god. so yeah, this one lived up to the hype, LMAO.

a balm for my soul before we plunge into the dark times. which, like i said, i am kinda sickly excited for anyway. they said we need to pile on the silly ones NOW before things get crazy. 

i have a bunch of question as to how this next arc is going to pan out given that i know like, the very basics. but i shall try my best to be incredibly patient and wait for the answers even if they are retconned into existence a decade later, which i think is what happened. that’s the sort of stuff i bring to the table: patience (<- said by someone who is lying)

shoutout to the genie- she may have been a bitch, but she was THAT bitch. like, she took down mussolini AND nixon… that’s getting the job done!!!

ahhh…. so refreshing to feel their happiness in canon. it just bathes over you. like a balm of some sort. i can’t imagine how people see this as not worthy of exploration. you need these moments to breathe to give the audience rest in between a million episodes of saving the world. because at a certain point, saving the world isn't enough of a reason to justify the story you’re telling. you have to show us why the world deserves to be saved: because it has moments of real and genuine connection and love that make all the suffering worth it.

SIGH.

i’m sure i will have more thoughts tomorrow, but right now i need to go just sit and ponder. listen to the rain. read a book. think about what it means to be alive. 

okay, so it’s been a few days since i watched the episode, and i still have so many thoughts. one of which is that i was so SAD scully didn’t get to share her discovery of an invisible corpse with the whole world 💔 my poor queen… she was SO happy to dab all of that yellow powder on a body. not sure if we have ever seen her more excited. and she was covered in the damn stuff and it was soooo cute.

and mulder… he is just a nice man. sometimes his character writing is inconsistent or sometimes he gets ahab-y, but like at the end of the day, that is a guy who, with his full chest and heart, asked a genie for world peace. baby. baby boy. he may be a grown man, but to me that is also a baby. you understand, of course.

and he was so SMUG when he thought he figured it out lmao “can i call you JEN?” like this man 💀💀 he killlllls me!!!

and then let’s talk about scully just kinda accepting that, sure. maybe we do genies now. idgaf. we can’t arrest her. and also can she PLEASE give us like 5 minutes alone? LMAOOOO, that sent me OVERBOARD “like, today?” <- you TELL HER!!

but of course she had lots of deep and true scully wisdom to impart on him: that making the world a better place takes hard work, and maybe that is why we are here, and we cannot simply wish perfection into existence. which. when you think of the context of their stories and how much they have lost, but they keep trying to make the world a better place, even if it’s a little bit at a time, be it through finding scientific truths or putting dangerous criminals behind bars or making each other smile… SIGH.

an excellent episode. i will cherish it and hold the memories close as i type up my end of s7 favorite moments lists and then dive into the finale and s8. i look forward to meeting some new faces and seeing if i enjoy them and also obtaining a temporary citizenship in angst nation. but also i cannot do TOO much angst (gestures to s4), so we will have to see how i feel about the whole thing. i am approaching with an open mind and heart.

[seventh-district]

Are you sad? Are you miserable? Is your life falling apart? Is your body falling apart? Does your head feel like it’s full of cotton, or perhaps TV static? Does it feel like the world is crumbling around you? Is it getting harder to force yourself through the daily motions? Is happiness getting increasingly harder to find?

Why not consider making a large, hyperfixation-fueled impulse purchase?

They won’t tell you this, but all of the happiness and satisfaction you’re searching for, along with each of those little chemicals that make your brain feel good, are all hidden within your very next large, hyperfixation-fueled impulse purchase!

So why don’t you go on ahead and grab that credit card, throw caution to the wind, and chase that good feeling? You certainly won’t regret it. No one has ever regretted making a large, hyperfixation-fueled impulse purchase! Never!

[orcelito]

Oh yeah yesterday I went to my C programming professor's office hours to ask about what's being covered in class tomorrow. Since I can't go bc of my PT appointment overlapping with it & I'm apparently the kind of student that cares about attending every single class now.

While I was there, I ended up chatting with him about a few things, including my current standing in the class. He asked what I got on the midterm exam, & I answered it was an 87, and he told me I was one of the top 5 or 6 scores in the Whole Class (this being a like. Maybe 70 or so person class). Top score was a 92 or 93 (idr lol) & the class average was a 72. Apparently there were a few of us in the upper 80s/lower 90s, but most people got 70s or lower. And once he does the curve on the exam, he said I'd probably end up with a 97 or so on the exam. So yay!!!

And then he told me how he's noticed how I come to class every day and am really active with taking notes and answering questions. Bc I also sit up front all the time lmao. Hadn't even realized how much of a damned teacher's pet I've been being, but I've been Trying to be a good student this year. But he said I was the type of student that if I got an 88% or smth in the class, he'd likely bump me up to a 90% so I'd get an A lol. But he also said so long as I keep up with how I have been, I could possibly get a 100% in the class by the end (bc I've been there for all the extra credit questions in class and whatever).

And just. I went there bc I wanted to make sure I didn't miss anything important in class on Wednesday, and I ended up having my ego stroked for Real. Felt good to have my efforts be recognized.

[moreaujeans]

PASSED ALL MY CLASSES YIPPEEEE

[rodrickheffley]

birthday coming up getting ready to be depressed

[gf2bellamy]

surprise — spencer reid

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader ( no use of y/n ) summary: garcia and derek go into spencer's apartment, while you're sleeping in his bed. the problem? no one knows you and spencer are dating content warnings: secret relationship , reader also works in the bau a/n: hiii !!! i'm back to my secret relationship roots and i hope you like this <3 bc i had so much fun writing this ( i've been writing it for ages and i'm finally happy with it)

"No, no," Spencer shook his head frantically, his voice almost pleading as Derek expertly maneuvered the car into the parking spot at his apartment complex.

"Why not?" Garcia's voice was full of curiosity as she looked back at Spencer from the passenger seat.

The trio had spent the whole afternoon shopping for your birthday, which was just around the corner. Garcia, as usual, had already gotten everything ready—gifts, decorations, the whole nine yards. She even had a closet near her office packed with presents for you, waiting for the big reveal at the surprise party she was planning to throw at the BAU.

The whole mission was meant to be a fun, collaborative effort, the three of them picking out something special for you to celebrate.

But now, as Derek parked the car and they were all about to get out, Garcia’s sudden idea was making Spencer break into a cold sweat.

"I mean, we can just hang out at your place for a bit, right?" Garcia asked, her tone more like a suggestion than a question. She had already unbuckled her seatbelt, clearly excited about the idea.

Spencer swallowed hard, his fingers gripping the seatbelt.

"I don’t know if that’s such a good idea," he said quickly, trying to sound casual, though the nerves were practically radiating off of him.

"I have… stuff to do." His words stumbled, but Derek caught on immediately.

"You've got a date or something?" Derek teased, raising an eyebrow. "Come on, Reid, live a little."

Spencer’s face turned a light shade of pink, but he quickly deflected with a nervous laugh. "No, no date," he replied, but the nervous energy in his tone was giving him away. "I just—uh—need to get inside."

Garcia didn't miss a beat. "Come on, Spencer," she insisted with that gleam of excitement in her eyes. "It’s been forever since we just hung out at your place. You know, a little downtime."

But Spencer’s mind was racing, heart pounding.

The last thing he needed was for Derek and Garcia to come upstairs and see you there.

He knew you were in his apartment right now, sound asleep in his bed, curled up in one of his sweaters. This morning, you had practically melted into him that morning, clinging to him as he reluctantly told you he had to go.

You had been so warm, your face tucked into the side of his neck, holding him like you didn’t want him to leave. He’d rubbed soothing circles on your back, whispering that he’d be back soon, but you hadn't been ready to let go. Eventually, he had managed to peel himself away, promising to return as quickly as possible.

Now, his heart pounded as he watched Derek and Garcia hop out of the car without hesitation.

"No, no, no—" Spencer muttered under his breath, scrambling to open his own door. He practically stumbled out, rushing after them, but they were already making their way toward his apartment building.

They didn’t even wait for him.

"Of course," he thought bitterly as he hurried behind them. He knew he was too late. There was no way he could stop them now. His only hope was that you were still asleep.

And there was a high chance that you were.

Spencer knew your sleep schedule well—knew exactly how you curled up beneath his sheets, how deep you slept when wrapped in one of his sweaters. If he could just get inside before them and shut his bedroom door, everything would be fine.

As they reached the top floor, Spencer’s fingers fumbled in his pocket for his keys. His hands were practically shaking as he yanked them out, quickly jamming the correct one into the lock.

Slowly, he pushed the door open just a crack, peeking inside, praying you weren’t—

"Dr. Reid. What are you doing?" Garcia’s voice was laced with amusement as she leaned against the doorframe, watching him with a smirk.

Before Spencer could stop her, she pushed the door open wider, stepping inside.

Panic surged through him. His breath caught in his throat.

But—

You were nowhere to be seen.

His eyes darted toward the bedroom door. It was closed.

No sign of you.

Spencer swallowed hard, trying to compose himself as Garcia and Derek strolled inside, completely oblivious to the absolute terror he had just experienced.

Spencer quickly shut the door behind them, tossing his jacket over the nearest chair—something he never did. Normally, he was meticulous about hanging it up properly, but right now, his priority was making sure nothing seemed off.

Slipping off his shoes, he warily watched as Garcia and Derek made a beeline for his kitchen.

As they rummaged through his cabinets, Spencer seized the opportunity.

He darted down the hallway toward the bedroom, his socked feet barely making a sound on the hardwood floor. He cracked the door open just enough to peek inside, and there you were, still fast asleep, curled up under the blankets with his sweater draped loosely over your shoulders.

The sight made his chest tighten with affection, and a small, involuntary smile tugged at his lips.

He closed the door gently, careful not to make a sound, and hurried back to the kitchen before they could notice his absence.

Crisis averted.

He stopped in his tracks, however, when he saw the disaster unfolding before him.

“What are you doing?” Spencer asked, exasperated, watching as Derek and Garcia rummaged through his cabinets like raccoons.

Garcia, mid-bite into a granola bar, waved a hand dismissively. “Relax, genius, we’re just looking for snacks. By the way—” she held up the granola bar with a raised brow, “—I thought you hated these?”

Spencer froze.

He did. He never ate those granola bars.

But you did.

You loved them, so he always kept some stocked just for you.

He scrambled for an excuse, clearing his throat. “Uh—I just wanted to give them another try,” he mumbled, avoiding Garcia’s sharp, suspicious gaze.

Derek, now chewing a piece of toast, barely looked up. “Yeah, okay,” he said, mouth full.

Spencer shot him an unamused glare. “Can the two of you stop eating my food?”

“No,” Derek replied, taking another bite, completely unbothered. 

Spencer sighed, running a hand through his hair. “You know, most people ask before raiding someone’s kitchen,” he muttered, though there was no real bite to his words. 

Garcia giggled, popping the last bite of granola bar into her mouth. “Oh, come on, Spence. You love us. Besides, you’re acting super weird today. What’s going on with you?” 

Spencer’s eyes widened slightly, and he quickly looked away, busying himself with straightening a stack of papers on the counter.

“Nothing’s going on,” he said, his voice a little too high-pitched. “I’m just… tired. It’s been a long day.” 

Garcia and Derek just exchanged a look.

Spencer sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. He needed to get them out of here before they found something they weren’t supposed to. 

Like, say… you.

“Do you think she’ll like my gift?” Garcia asked, peeking at the bag on the counter, her fingers fidgeting with the ribbon.

“Most definitely, babygirl,” Derek answered without hesitation, dusting the crumbs off his hands after finishing his toast. “She’s been talking about it for weeks.”

Spencer, still trying to recover from his near heart attack, nodded in agreement. “Yeah, she’ll love it,” he said, meeting Garcia’s eyes with a small, reassuring smile.

Garcia beamed, clearly pleased with herself. “Oh, she’ll love yours, boy genius,” she added, pointing at Spencer. “You know her so well.” Her voice carried a teasing lilt, her grin mischievous.

“Maybe too well,” Derek chimed in, eyebrows raised as he leaned casually against the counter, arms crossed. His grin was knowing, smug.

Spencer stiffened.

“When are you finally gonna ask her out?” Derek asked, his grin widening.

Spencer felt his face heat up instantly. He blushed, but not for the reason they thought.

He blushed because he remembered the day it happened. 

The way his heart had pounded in his chest, his palms sweaty as he rehearsed the words in his head over and over. He’d been so nervous, he’d almost convinced himself to back out.

But then he’d seen you—your smile, the way your eyes lit up when you noticed him approaching—and all his doubts had melted away. 

When he finally asked, his voice trembling slightly, your reaction had been everything he’d hoped for. Your face had lit up, and you’d nodded so quickly, it was almost comical.

“Yes!” you’d said, your voice filled with so much enthusiasm that it made him laugh. In that moment, all his anxiety had washed away, replaced by a giddy, almost overwhelming sense of relief and joy. 

“Aww, how cute!” Garcia practically vibrated with excitement, bouncing on the balls of her feet as she pointed an accusatory finger at Spencer. “He’s blushing,” she sang, her grin stretching impossibly wide. 

Spencer groaned, shaking his head in exasperation. “Did you two come into my apartment just to eat my food and make fun of me?” he asked, arms crossed.

“Pretty much,” Derek said, completely unfazed as he made his way back toward the fridge.

Spencer let out a sharp breath, trying to mask his anxiety. He knew you were still asleep, but that didn’t stop the lingering fear that their loud voices might wake you up.

But then—

Derek stopped in front of the fridge.

His eyes locked onto the calendar hanging there, and a slow, amused smirk spread across his face.

“Look at this, sweetheart,” Derek said, turning toward Garcia, his voice thick with amusement.

Garcia leaned in, her eyes widening as she saw what Derek was pointing at. There, on the calendar, your birthday was circled in bold red marker, surrounded by a carefully drawn heart.

Garcia gasped, clapping her hands together in delight. “Oh. My. God,” she said, her voice rising with every word. “Spencer Reid, you are down bad!”

Spencer felt his face burn even hotter. He wished he could disappear into the floor—or maybe just teleport to another dimension entirely. Anything to escape this moment.

Because the truth was, he hadn’t been the one to draw that heart on the calendar. It had been you.

He remembered the moment perfectly.

The day he hung the calendar up, you had been standing right there beside him, watching with an amused little smile. Then, without hesitation, you had grabbed the nearest marker—a red one, of course—and went straight to your birthday month, drawing a huge heart around the date.

"So you don’t forget."

He had chuckled, shaking his head as he stepped behind you, wrapping his arms loosely around your waist. Then, he had pressed a soft kiss to your temple, murmuring against your skin—

"I don’t forget anything. Especially not something like that."

You had blushed.

And Spencer had loved making you blush.

Now, standing in his kitchen, faced with his coworkers’ relentless teasing, he was struck with the embarrassing realization that Derek and Garcia thought he was some hopelessly lovesick teenager who had scribbled hearts around his crush’s name in a notebook.

(Which—if he was being completely honest—wasn’t that far from the truth.)

But what was he supposed to say?

Tell them the truth? Admit that the woman he’d been secretly dating for months—the same woman they were here shopping for—was currently asleep in his bed down the hall?

Absolutely not.

But then—

The choice was taken away from him anyway.

Suddenly, the sound of running water echoed from down the hallway, causing both Garcia and Derek to freeze mid-sentence. Their heads snapped toward the source of the noise, their eyes widening as they stared at Spencer.

Spencer stared back, equally wide-eyed, his mind racing. You were in the bathroom, happily brushing your teeth, completely unaware that two of your—and Spencer’s—coworkers were standing in the kitchen, mere feet away.

“Spencer Walter Reid,” Garcia gasped, her voice loud enough to carry through the apartment. She clutched Derek’s arm like she was about to faint. “Is there someone here?”

“No, no,” Spencer said quickly, shaking his head so vigorously that his curls bounced. “It’s probably just my washing machine turning on.”

As if on cue, the bathroom door creaked open, and then closed again. Spencer’s heart sank.

“Oh no,” he mumbled under his breath, his stomach twisting into knots.

And then, there you were.

You padded into the kitchen, blissfully unaware of the chaos you were about to unleash.

You were wearing Spencer’s boxers, which hung loosely around your hips, and one of his Star Wars shirts that was far too big for you, the hem brushing against your thighs. Your hair was slightly messy, and you were still rubbing sleep from your eyes.

Then you stopped.

Blinking, you finally seemed to register the two extra people in the room.

Garcia. Derek.

Standing there.

Staring.

At you.

In Spencer’s clothes.

Two pairs of eyes stared at you. And you stared back, your own eyes wide, your brain struggling to process the scene in front of you. Spencer, meanwhile, was staring at the ground like it might suddenly open up and swallow him whole.

Garcia broke the silence, her voice low and uncharacteristically quiet—something almost more shocking than if she’d screamed.

“Am I… dreaming?” she whispered, clutching Derek’s arm like a lifeline. She looked pale, her usual vibrant energy replaced by sheer disbelief as she took in your disheveled state.

Derek, for once, seemed just as stunned. “I… no, I don’t think so,” he said hesitantly, his usual confidence replaced by uncharacteristic uncertainty.

He blinked at you, then at Spencer, then back at you, as if trying to piece together what exactly was happening.

“Spencer,” you hissed, your voice low but urgent. “What the hell is happening?” You tugged self-consciously at the hem of his Star Wars shirt, trying to pull it down further.

Normally, you were the picture of professionalism at work, always impeccably dressed and composed.

But here you were, standing in Spencer’s kitchen in his boxers and an oversized shirt, your hair a mess and your face still flushed from sleep.

It was beyond awkward—it was mortifying.

Spencer finally looked up, his expression a mix of guilt and panic. “I, uh… this isn’t—” he started, but Garcia cut him off.

“Oh no, no, no,” Garcia said, her voice rising with every word, her hands flailing dramatically. “You do not get to ‘this isn’t’ us right now. This is happening. This is definitely happening.”

She pointed a finger at you, then at Spencer, her eyes wide.

“You two. Together. In his apartment. Wearing his clothes. Oh my gosh, this is the best day of my life.”

You froze, your cheeks burning as you tugged self-consciously at the hem of Spencer’s shirt. “Penelope, it’s not—” you started, but she cut you off with a wave of her hand.

“Nope, nope, nope,” she said, shaking her head so vigorously that her curls bounced. “No explanations, no excuses. This is happening. I have been waiting for this moment for years.”

Spencer groaned, running a hand through his already messy hair. “Garcia, please—”

“No,” she interrupted again, her voice rising an octave. “You don’t get to ‘Garcia, please’ me right now. This is huge. This is monumental. This is—”

“A disaster,” Spencer muttered under his breath, though the faintest hint of a smile tugged at the corners of his lips.

Derek, who had been quietly observing the scene with an amused grin, finally chimed in. “Man, Reid, I gotta hand it to you. I didn’t think you had it in you.”

You groaned, burying your face in your hands. “This is so embarrassing,” you muttered, though there was a hint of laughter in your voice.

Garcia, meanwhile, was practically bouncing on her toes, her excitement palpable. “Oh, this is going to be so much fun. I can’t wait to tell—”

“No!” Spencer and you said in unison, your voices sharp enough to make Garcia freeze mid-sentence.

“You are not telling anyone,” Spencer said, his tone leaving no room for argument.

Garcia pouted, but there was a mischievous glint in her eyes. “Fine, fine. But only because I’m feeling generous. For now.”

Derek chuckled, shaking his head. “Man, this is going to be the best office drama ever.”

You groaned again, burying your face in your hands. “I’m going back to bed,” you muttered, turning on your heel and heading back down the hallway.

As you disappeared into the bedroom, Garcia and Derek turned to Spencer, their expressions a mix of amusement and disbelief.

“You’ve got some explaining to do, Pretty Boy,” Derek said, his grin widening.

Spencer sighed, knowing there was no escaping this. “Yeah,” he said, his voice resigned. “I know.”

[salvagemarch]

Lay It on Me

joel miller x reader

3,114 words

summary: you are absolutely smitten with joel and everything about him, specifically everything he has going on in his pants. you know it’s unrealistic to have access to him at all times, so you come up with a solution.

continuation of this blurb but can be read as a stand alone

warnings: reader literally makes a dildo in the shape of joel’s dick, female and male masturbation, unprotected piv, cowgirl, creampie, reader is unhinged, insatiable, and sex crazy but joel likes it, sort of jealous joel, my attraction to blue collar workers is kind of shining through in this…

a/n: i wrote this solely because my first ever anon requested it…this is all for you babe

To say you were pissed would be an understatement

You knew it was unfair, Joel was a busy man with a busy job and a lot of clients to make happy. But he was your man, and you deserved to be happy too.

Here you were, feeling bad for yourself after he cut your usual morning sex short because his brother needed him at work earlier than usual. You were still laying in the same spot in your shared bed, naked, sweaty, and wet, with no Joel there to help you.

Sighing, you knew you could finger yourself, use a vibrator, take a cold shower, do whatever the hell you needed to do to rid yourself of your unbearable horniness, but you didn’t want to anything but fuck Joel.

As you sulk in your bubble of sexual frustration, your mind begins to wander and you remember a friend of yours telling you about a “stupid gag gift” her boyfriend bought her for Christmas. It was some sort of diy clay kit to make a mold of his penis, and in the moment you laughed at the idea. But now, with your spread legs and your poor, unsatisfied groin, it seemed brilliant.

You grab your phone to text your friend.

“Hey, how much did that dick mold kit cost?”

“What the hell is wrong with you?”

“Joel, it’s an amazing idea! Just do it, it’ll be worth it!”

You told Joel about your genius plan as soon as he sat down to take off his work boots, which you began to regret as he looked up at you with tired eyes and a sweaty face. The regret quickly dissipated when you noticed his damp biceps and your arousal for him took over everything else.

“Don’t you want us to be closer? This is a great way for us to bond,” you sit down beside him, getting in his personal space to try and convince him to do what you wanted. It always worked.

He continued untying his boots and wiped his hands on his pants. “I already fuck you every damn day and night, how much more close can we get?” you ignore his remark to gawk at his big hands, imagining them on your body.

He sighed as he sat up to stretch his back, glancing over at you with irritated eyes. “You ain’t gonna let this go, are you?” you shake your head with a big smile.

“Jesus christ. Go get in bed, girl. I’m gonna show you I’m better than any dumb toy.”

You cum 6 times that night. It doesn’t deter you from your plan.

Two weeks pass when you get a knock on your front door, and when you open it you find what you’ve been waiting for. The kit. You yell for Joel to come down into the kitchen and when he walks in, hands dirty from wood working, you hold the box up in all its taboo glory.

“It’s beautiful,” you smile.

“It’s stupid. I can’t believe you’re makin’ me do this,” he crosses his arms and leans against the counter, watching as you open the box and glares at the big Clone-A-Willy name on the package.

“I’m not making you do anything, you’re choosing to do it because you love me.”

Joel finds himself lying on the bed with an annoyed expression and spread legs, his jeans thrown somewhere on the floor and his boxers pulled down to his ankles. You take a second to admire his pretty cock before wrapping both of your hands around it and stroking up and down to get him hard.

It really was beautiful. Almost eight inches, wide, had veins and ridges in all the right spots. It’s like his body was made just for you. You swallow down your saliva as your mouth watered.

“Okay, step one: Coat the penis in clay mixture,” you read from the instruction paper in front of you and begin spreading the mix you made earlier around Joel’s dick. His breath hitches as it hits his sensitive skin.

“Shit, you didn’t tell me it was gonna be cold! And it’s slimy, too,” he grimaced at the feel of the clay, and you had to hold back a moan as his appearance grew more disheveled. His thighs tensed and his neck strained at the discomfort, but holy hell did he look hot when he was irritated.

“Sorry, hon. I’m just following instructions,” you explain as you continue working the mixture onto his length.

He frowns at you, clearly unimpressed with your excuse. His cock twitches slightly as you continue smearing the cool, thick clay mixture along him. Despite his obvious discomfort, his cock grows harder and harder under the clay coating.

"Following instructions, huh? Those instructions are shit," he grumbles, shifting his hips restlessly on the bed. "My balls are starting to get numb here."

You bite your lip, trying to focus on the task at hand rather than how hot he looks sprawled out like this, all rugged and masculine despite the weird clay situation. His stomach rises and falls with each breath, drawing your eye to his sturdy chest.

"Almost done, baby. Just need to make sure it's fully coated," you say.

“Okay, all done. Step two: Wait for clay to dry on penis. Shouldn’t be hard at all, right? Hard? See what I did there?”

He frowns at you. The clay continues to set around his dick, creating an oddly textured surface. “You ain’t funny, smartass. No shit it shouldn't be hard. Though I guess you're doing a good job of changing that," he says wryly, nodding towards his straining erection barely contained by the stiffening clay mold.

After a few more minutes of awkwardly waiting, he sits up slowly, the clay slightly cracking and flaking off in places. “Alright, I think it's dry enough. Can I please take this thing off now? My dick feels like it's trapped in concrete."

“Be careful!” you reprimand him. “I don’t want to break. I need it all in one piece to be able to use it,” you place a hand on his stomach and push him back down, opting to take the cast off yourself. His dick grows harder.

He sighs heavily, looking exasperated by your enthusiasm. With great care, he helps you peel away the clay mold, moving slowly to avoid breaking it. As more of his dick is revealed, you can't help but lick your lips in anticipation.

"There, I got it off in one piece. Happy now?" he asks once the mold is complete, holding it up for your inspection. It's creepily similar to Joel’s length, replicating every ridge and vein in detail. He sets it aside on the nightstand before turning back to you with a raised eyebrow.

"So, uh...why exactly are you makin’ that thing anyway? Because I gotta say, this whole ordeal is pretty weird. Even for you,” he takes a tissue from the nightstand and wipes his clay covered hands, making an effort to avoid touching the clone of his penis.

“I already told you, I’m gonna use it when you’re away and I’m horny. And you know I’m always horny.”

Joel shook his head, a mix of frustration and fondness in his expression. "Yeah, I know you're horny all the time, but that doesn't mean this is the only solution. What if my brother goes snoopin’ around and sees that you have that? You know he likes the run his mouth," Joel starts overthinking. "You're gonna be the talk of the town, aint't ya? 'Did you hear Joel’s girl has a plaster replica of his cock?' Christ, the rumors will be flying," he mutters, shaking his head in disbelief.

You bite back as he spirals. “Yeah? Maybe I can use it right now if you’re so ashamed of me, let it take your spot completely.”

His smile faltered at your words. "Whoa, hold on a minute. I'm not ashamed of you, crazy girl. I just...I don't know, it's weird, okay? Seeing my own dick in a fucking mold, knowing you're gonna use it on yourself..." He trailed off.

Joel exhales shakily and runs a hand through his hair, struggling to articulate his feelings. “God knows how horny you are, and there ain’t nothin’ that makes me happier than gettin’ to take care of that whenever you need. But this...this is different. It's like you're replacing me."

Despite his hesitation, you can sense an undertone of desire in his voice. He's torn between his possessive nature, and the thrill of watching you pleasure yourself with his likeness.

You sit on your knees and scoot closer to him. “Aw, is baby jealous? You really think I’m trying to replace you?”

Joel scoffs, but there is a hint of vulnerability in his tone. “Me, jealous? Of a goddamn sex toy? Please. I'm just sayin’, this is crazy." He crosses his arms while he wallows, his cock still hard and on full display.

He pauses, seeming to take a moment and think over his next words. “I guess I have to be honest. Seein’ you touch yourself with my dick, even if it's just a copy...it is kind of hot. Knowin’ that I can make you feel good like that, even when I'm not around..."

He trails off, a flush creeping up his neck as he meets your gaze. There's an intense look in his eyes. "Just don't start expecting this to become a regular thing, okay? I'm still the one who gets to be inside you.”

You bite back a smile as Joel reassures himself, reminding you of your need for him more for his peace of mind than yours. “Of course. It’s just for when you’re unavailable, I promise.”

He nods, accepting your terms and letting his jealousy subside. A small smile plays on his lips as he takes in the sight of you eagerly eyeing the toy. “If that's what you want, go on and use it.”

He gestures towards the nightstand where the replica sits, awaiting its inaugural use. “Just don't forget whose it really is when you're done playing with it,” he says, eyeing your covered cunt.

“You wanna watch or something, perv?” you tease.

“Me? A perv? I’m just curious to how you’re gonna use the thing. ‘Sides, it’s only fair considering the fact I had to deal with having my dick covered in clay.” He leans against the headboard, crossing his arms behind his neck. “Put on a show for me. I deserve it.”

You lean forward to grab the toy off the nightstand, sitting back to look at Joel. You’ll give him a show.

As you position the clay piece between your legs, Joel’s eyes don’t leave your body once. His gaze is trained to the space hovering over the cockhead of the toy, and you can sense his arousal growing at the promise of watching you get off. “Don’t forget to stroke the real thing later,” he says, reaching down to palm himself.

You bring your bottom lip between your teeth as you begin to rub your panty covered center on the molded cock, watching Joel rub his dick. “Fuck me, why don’t ya just put it in already? I wanna see you ride that thing,” his words come off as a command but you know better, sensing the desperation beneath them. Joel was always just as horny as you were.

With a huff you toss your shorts off and pull your panties to the side, wearing nothing but them and your tank top. You fit the tip between your wet lips. “You need to be patient,” you scold him as you ease yourself onto the toy.

Joel’s free fist clenches at his side, fighting the urge to pounce and yank you onto his lap. The sight of your slick entrance welcoming the dildo into your body makes him want to moan, and the vision of you was almost too much for him to handle. “You,” he pants, “are testin’ my limits, sweetheart.”

You let yourself sink fully onto the toy, the obscene sound of your wetness filling the room and simultaneously making Joel’s actual tip leak with precum.

You breathe lowly as your eyes roll closed, spreading your legs to fully take in the feeling of the toy. The familiarity of the shape comforted you, but the inhuman smoothness to it gave you something new to explore.

The moan that leaves your lips makes Joel throb painfully, his dick begging for relief as he gawked at the sight before him. “Jesus, fuck…look at you, so damn sexy taking that thing so deep…” he wasn’t even really aware of what he was saying, letting his dirty thoughts come out of his mouth freely as he tugged on his cock.

“You like that, don’t you? Like bein’ able to have my dick buried inside you at all times?” he mumbled, continuing to stroke himself and watch you through hooded eyes, “I bet you can’t wait to cum all over it, can you?”

His words just made you whimper, encouraging you to slide up and down the toy, “Feels so good, Joel,” you leak more arousal onto the sheets below, “Love your dick so much.”

A guttural groan comes from Joel’s throat, his hips jerking involuntarily as if he was following the motion of the toy inside you. “Don’t I know it, baby,” he reaches out with his free hand, trailing his thick fingers over your thigh. “Keep goin’, work that thing in and out of ya. Show me how much you love having my cock inside of you.”

Before having sex with Joel, you didn’t think it was possible to cum in under five minutes. Now, even with a fake version of his dick, you already felt your stomach getting tighter. “So deep,” you moan out, “‘M gonna cum, Joel.”

As your climax began consuming you, Joel surged forward and planted two beefy hands on your hips, pulling you down onto the toy. The lewd squelch of your pussy gripping onto the mold filled the room, punctuated by your moans growing in pitch and Joel’s words of praise.

“That’s it, cum for me,” he grumbles. “Let go, baby, Give that thing everything you got.

His grip on your hips tighten, his fingers digging into your soft flesh as he helped you piston up and down. The toy plunged in and out of your dripping cunt, making you whimper loudly as you gushed around it. Joel tugged you down, hard, one final time as he held you in place and grinded you against the base of the dildo.

As you rode out the aftershocks, Joel held your shaking form against his body and stroked your hand gently, shushing you as you came down from your high.

“Will you fuck me now?”

Joel breathed out exasperatedly. “First, you make me sit through having my dick turned into a sex toy, and now you’re askin’ to fuck me after cumming on said sex toy?” Despite his shock, Joel knew he wanted to give your body as many orgasms as it could handle. He eyes his own crotch, knowing he was still hard.

“I suppose I should give you somethin’ in return for that performance…” he trailed off before grabbing your body as if it weighed nothing and laid back on the bed, sitting up against the headboard. “Come on, up ya go. Show me what you’ve got.”

You smile breathlessly, still feeling your walls twitch and clench around nothing. You throw your legs over his waist and sit right over his cock.

Joel slides his hands up your thighs to your hips, grasping them and sliding you onto his tip. “Fuck, baby, you’re so wet,” your previous orgasm still drips from between your thighs. His hands moved to grip your ass cheeks, pushing you to sink down. You both gasped and groaned as you took his length in, Joel thrusting up to meet your downward motion.

“That’s it, honey,” he encouraged, “Use me however you want. Jus’ don’t stop.”

He loses himself in the feeling of you bouncing above him, the weight of your breasts pushing against his chest and your moans like a bird song to his ears. You whimper and rest your hands on his strong shoulders, finally having his dick back in you after fucking the replica. Nothing is better than the real thing.

“Love your cock so much, Joel. So perfect for me,” you praise him mindlessly, letting your horny brain do all the talking as his dick filled every space inside your pussy.

He slid his hands up your torso while you rode him, letting his thumbs hike your shirt up to reveal your breasts. He moved one hand down to steady your hip, and used his other to reach for your tits, taking turns to palm each of them softly. “You are so fuckin’ sexy like this,” he groaned out, “Can’t believe I get to call this body mine.”

Your moans turn into full on whines, letting Joel consume you entirely as your second orgasm began forming. You rolled your hips downwards, letting his dick fill you as deep as it could as your slick walks gripped him tightly.

“I’m cumming again, Joel,” you warn, sliding up and down. Despite your words, Joel makes no move to stop you, his body surrendering to yours.

“Go ahead, baby, get it nice and wet for me,” he murmurs, his voice thick and heavy with desire. You comply as Joel moves his hand from your breast to your clit, rubbing circles on it with his fingers. You clench around him before your ears start to ring, finishing with loud whimpers.

With renewed urgency, Joel grips your hips and bucks up into you, the force of his thrusts rocking your body and making the bed creak. His balls draw up tight against you, and with a powerful thrust, he buries his face into your neck and lets out grunts into your ear. You feel him cumming inside of you, feel it spilling out of you as he gives slower thrusts. Your tiny whimpers of satisfaction fill the room as he pants, wrapping his arms fully around your torso and bringing you with him down against the bed. He feels something nudging his back, but he ignores it as you move over to nuzzle into his chest.

The both of you catch your breath together, basking in contentedness and the warmth of each other’s sweaty bodies.

Suddenly, Joel’s body jolts up when he hears a blood curdling scream coming from beside him on the bed.

“YOU LAID ON MY DILDO!”

[sunni-stuff]

Everything changed when that pregnancy test read positive.

The day you fumbled into his office, bearing what you thought to be bad news, John's excited face threw you for a loop.

Wasn't he supposed to be upset? Tell you that he didn't want to have a kid with someone he didn't fully care about? Why was he crying? Why did he embrace you so tenderly?

"I'll be there for both of you, Dovie," Price reassures in the nook of your neck, arms caging you against his chest.

Take care of both of you.

Both?

"M-Mr. Price, with all due respect—"

Price cuts off your protests. He leads you out of his office. His large hand grips your waist more possessively. "Go rest your feet up in the lounge; I'll take care of everything." His lips press to the crown of your head, ushering you away gently at the reception entrance.

You were supposed to have one fun night, not to be locked in for the rest of your lives.

Your days of working at a desk were replaced with John's house. It was far from the bustling base you had grown used to. The space was warm and homey. Bits of memorabilia were scattered about. Medals adorned the walls, and old photos sat on the shelves.

John said you only have one job now: making yourself at home.

There was so much space that you didn't know where to start or even how to start! It's not like there was a plan for having your boss's child! So much was happening so fast it left you overwhelmed, sitting on his couch with nervous hands. "Mr. Price, I'm really not sure about all this; I mean... what we did was a big mistake, right?"

From upstairs, you hear John laugh. He's been up there all morning, fixing the nursery for your child. He wanted to create a special room for them, saying that his kid deserves nothing but the best. Heavy footsteps announce his presence as he closes the distance between you. Calloused fingers grip your chin, forcing you to look into his ocean eyes. "You don't want this?"

His touch has you melting, words dying on your lips as you get lost in those eyes. God, why did he look at you that way? Churning like laundry, your gut writhes. A violent spin cycle grips your innards, knotting and wrenching them mercilessly. "I never—I never said that; I just think we're taking things too fast, don't you?" The half-hearted mumble escapes your lips, unconvincing even to yourself.

John's expression shifts; his eyebrow raises in slight scrutiny. "If you believed that, you wouldn't be here."

He's right.

"I do-"

He cuts in swiftly, voice firm. "You don't."

John's grasp tightens on your chin. He leans in, eyes intense. Your heart races. His lips brush yours. The kiss—chaste yet electric. A moment suspended in time. Emotions flood through you both, unspoken but palpable. "You have me. Whatever you want is yours, all you have to do is say the word."

John waits, poised for your word. His eyes betray a craving—silent, deep, and raw.

He belongs to you. He's all yours.

Your lips purse in a line, lip caught between your teeth.

Anything you want?

"I don't like the color of the nursey..."

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

P1

❥ I wasn't originally gonna do a part 2 but... I really like this one, next fic will be longer, possibly fluff and smut maybe who knows ❥

[seventh-district]

hhhrrrhggrghrghhhhhhh

ok i'm continuing my tag-yapping under a cut bc the tag limit can’t even hope to contain me this morning

CW: vent post (<- bc i don't have room for it in the tags and while this isn't quite like my typical vent posts, it definitely still has a lot of. idk. negative vibes. so. idk guys just scroll on by and leave me to my insanity)

(also i suppose i should warn for Arcane and Stranger Things spoilers, and Genshin Impact leaks. how did we get here idk this post is a fucking mess)

[continuing from where the tags left off]

like i have seen just enough spoilers to know that it’s gonna be another Eddie Stranger Things situation for me again. and that fixation was terrible man like don’t get me wrong i enjoy him a very normal amount these days and it’s fine but at the beginning??? i grieved that MF like he was a real person bro it was embarrassing. it literally brought me back to one of the worst emotional states i’ve ever suffered through. being prone to hyperfixating is fun and all until you’re sobbing in bed losing ur mind over missing someone that never even existed and you can’t function in your day-to-day life. then it’s not so fun. but anyways time lessens the pain of all wounds or whatever and i eventually became normal about Eddie. but like man. man i’ve got quite the feeling that Viktor will put me in a similar state. maybe hopefully not quite so bad but like. mmm. it would be a very bad idea to finally watch the show at this point in my life, given that things have quite literally never been worse and are only getting worse-er. but I Do Not Control The Fixation and i made the mistake of falling down a reaction-video rabbit hole on YT the other day. which i always regret bc i always end up on some random new misogynistic republican man’s channel who i’ve never heard of before and i just hurt my own feelings and it makes me lose hope in humanity and. it’s just always a bad time. like i only follow a very select few reaction channels who i actually enjoy but then i click on one (1) video and the fucking recommended videos always pull me in different directions and next thing i know it’s 3 hours later and i’m on a very different part of the internet and i realize oh there’s actually a lot of hate in the world. how did i get here. anyways.

about halfway down the rabbit hole i was watching some therapist guy reacting to Arcane bc i wanted to see his reaction to the Viktor and Jayce “Am I interrupting?” scene from S1EP2 bc it’s literally the only scene i’ve watched in-full (yes i engage with media in a very non-linear way don’t ask why there’s just something wrong with me) and bro. when i fucking tell you it felt like i got hit by a truck the moment Viktor was on screen— ,,,….,.,… like i didn’t realize how long it’d been since i’d seen it. and i. you know that meme that’s like “hyperfixation so bad i can’t engage with the source material”? yeah i experience that. like a lot. and i had one of those moments then. bc like. i’ve enjoyed his character for a long time. from a… distance? bc i’ve just never been ready to let the fixation fully hit me. ….. dear god i’ve been microdosing blorbos. jesus christ that’s funny. anyways where was i.

yeah i like. i read a bit of Viktor fanfic and admire fanart and gifs from the show and i have learned some of the gist of what’s going on with him through a particular creator’s rp audios that i have played to absolute death bc they’re very good. so i’m like. already attached to the character. he’s up there in my head with all the other blorbos. but i’ve never fully engaged with the source material. and so when he came on screen in that guy’s reaction video it was like. idk how to describe it. staring at the sun? or like. taking too much of a drug… idk i can’t. find the right metaphor. but it was just. Intense and it hit me all at once and i literally had to close the video like— i couldn’t take it lmfao. but ever since that i’ve got this urge to finally watch the show in full. but i’ve gathered through out-of-context screenshots and bits of people’s reactions to S2 that he.. dies? i think?? possibly more than once??? like i don’t really know any details and have very little context to go off of but i am surmising that he loses himself in hextech and goes robo-jesus mode in his search for тhe Glorious Ovulation or whatever the fuck is going on in this show that he then. dies?? with Jayce??? or ascends to the astral realm or some shit. like i literally have no clue what’s going on in that screenshot that was all over tumblr for a while after S2 dropped but. something is happening and i think it’s gonna be sad. (lmao i'm rereading this and i gotta say the Russian T wasn't intentional, i was typing too fast and accidentally switched keyboards instead of capitalizing it. but it made me laugh so i'm leaving it)

and like. i recognize that a character’s death can serve a respectable purpose in a good story and death is an inevitable part of life and all that. i respect it. but u must also understand that i am a sensitive little baby who has to endure enough angst in my real life that i selfishly want all my fave little blorbos to live forever and ever and happily ever after off into the sunset. okay? duality of man or whatever. (well, the happily part isn’t rlly necessary. i love angst i just hate death. they don’t gotta be happy forever they just gotta be alive. there is. a Reason that one of Saoirse’s defining characteristics is their infinite revivals resulting in effective immortality. all the angst of death with none of the permanence. and there’s a Reason that a lot of my favorite characters are Gods and angels and demons and vampires and werewolves and cyborgs and automatons. long-life species. i want so much more time than i’m ever gonna get and i Will project that onto the media i create and consume. next question.) so. where was i. oh yeah. so like. while i Accept the fact that Viktor’s presumably gonna die. i just know it’s gonna be an Eddie situation with me again and i don’t think my fragile psyche can handle that rn. so i guess i’ll just suppress the desire to watch Arcane until morale improves.

which is probably wise regardless of the emotional impact it’ll have on me given that i’m in one of my migraine-prone phases again and i know myself well enough to know damn well that if i start watching it rn i’ll binge the whole thing in like 2 days, induce a god-awful migraine from the screen-staring and lose touch with reality in the process. and hate myself for wasting time on a show when i could be doing literally anything else. like that’s a major reason i hardly ever watch anything anymore bc it just makes me feel more guilty for being lazy. bc like. in my mind if i’m writing or coloring or playing a game or engaging in any hobby that requires me to interact with it in some way, i can feel less bad for wasting time on it bc i’m at least Doing something. but watching a show or a movie or even a YT video just feels that much more lazy bc i’m literally just laying in bed staring at a screen not moving or using my brain. and i realize that i wouldn’t ever criticize someone else for it but. there’s another standard when it comes to me. like i know i should be studying and learning and working and cleaning and exercising and socializing and forcing myself to attend to all the adult responsibilities that are piling up on me. so if i’m gonna keep avoiding them then the least i could do is do something at least pseudo-productive instead. (even if that’s spending 2 hours yapping on Tumblr about how i can’t decide what to do today. apparently)

OKAY it's 12pm and i'm back. i drafted this post and forced myself out of bed, gave the entire bathroom a good cleaning, straightened up the living room, cleaned all the trash out of my bedroom, put a honeysuckle cube in my wax melter, got some ice cream and now i'm back to finish yapping.

the storms seem to have let up and i Should get in the shower but now my back hurts and i'm tired bc i have enough energy for approximately 1.5 tasks per day. so i'll just stay greasy until tomorrow. and due to the way the shower drains in this dysfunctional house i'll still have to speedrun my shower even then, or manually drain the septic tank since the ground is so saturated with water rn. and god it's supposed to rain more in a few days.. this is not gonna be good for the mold and structural problems. sigh. anyways where was i. god this post got long i am just a yapping machine today aren't i? we're taking the 'public diary' tag to heart with this one, boys

okay i got dragged away to deal with some stupid shit and it's now past 1pm and the smell of the wax melt is threatening to bring my migraine back and making my throat hurt and the sugar from the ice cream is making me feel sick. so today is falling apart spectacularly as per usual and i will likely get nothing else done except the dinner i have to make. maybe i'll be able to force myself to brush my teeth before bed. i love being mentally ill it's great we have fun here. /sarc

i hate how i've only got 10 or so hours of energy in me these days even though i get plenty of sleep. i wanna go to beeeeed and the rain outside the window is lulling me. anyways. i Will finish this comically long vent post if it's the last thing i do today.

take a shot every time i say anyways.

o k a y. it is nearly 5pm. and i might, just maybe might, finally be able to sit down and finish this. i am now finally back at my desk with pain thrumming in my back and legs and knees and my tummy is grumbling. but the overwhelming honeysuckle smell in my room has dissipated and my migraine hasn't returned yet and at least i can relax in a nice quiet dark cool 63 degree room after spending hours in a loud brightly lit 78 degree environment. so that's something to be grateful for. god bless my AC unit

maybe one day i'll get the chance to live a life that's actually my own. but until then i suppose there's always escapism!

speaking of, all day i've had my new Venti fic on my mind. calling it a fic sounds too.. grandiose? but it's too big to be a oneshot. what do you call a ~20k word story split into a few chapters. 'novella' sounds way too fancy to be used for fanfic. 'short story' sounds generic and also implies that it's original content. i guess it's just a small fic. a mini-fic maybe. yet another oneshot that got way outta hand. his rerun banner goes live on the uh.. 16th i think. and if i lock in i Could get the fic ready to post by then. and i think i'd like to. but there's no telling what happens in my day-to-day life that might prevent me from doing so. and it's not like there's really any good reason that i'm trying to make the two things line up, i just like using arbitrary days and dates as a source of motivation ig. but we're getting a bit of a Mondstadt revival(!!!) in 5.6 so i could also wait until then and it would still feel kinda celebratory. but it's an angsty story so idk why i'm trying to pair it up with a happy day anyways lmao. his birthday is coming up on 6/16 so i've got 2 days and 10 months. .. god i'm more tired than i thought. okay nope lets try that again. i've got 2 months and 10 days to get either the last chapters of Heaven In Hiding or some other new little fic ready to go up if i wanna post something else for his birthday. or maybe my real life horrors will take precedence and i won't get anything finished in time. that's a very real possibility.

i've been getting the urge to write for ES and [N]MbD again too. and i finally played through the Banana Outrage quest from HSR 2.6 and am now sitting on several ideas for Boothill comfort and reverse comfort oneshots. and i feel like there was some other character i had an idea to write for but my tired brain cannot recall it, if it ever existed. i've been sitting on a finished Ghost Band Dew x Reader OCD comfort fic for aaages now but i'm. embarrassed about it bc i just bullshit.. bullshitted.. bullshat? my way through the entire premise/setup and i feel like it's silly or inaccurate bc i have. Zero idea how a ministry.. monastery?.. church? thingy?? like whatever exists in the Ghost lore actually works. like i'm not even trying to adhere to canon so i guess i have as much creative freedom as i want but i also feel like what i wrote is unrealistic even within the fanon interpretations. and Dew is probably ooc anyway.. so i've been toying with the idea of scrapping the whole thing and rewriting the fic for a third time with some other character from another media that i know better. but hhhhhhh maybe one day i'll just be brave and post it and let ppl make fun of me if it sucks. like i'm not nervous about the actual OCD-comfort aspect bc i know exactly how to handle that. but the world i set the scene in is one i am not familiar enough with. idk, it feels.. forced, to me. which is funny bc the original version of the fic was with Eddie Stranger Things instead 😭 same OCD comfort premise just. different blorbo in a different setting. but my fixation on him waned and i hadn't fully fleshed the scene out yet anyway so i just scrapped it and used the idea for a Dew Ghost fic instead. but i've sat on it for so long that that fixation has waned as well and now i'm like... do i keep recycling this stupid oneshot for different blorbos indefinitely or what? idk. it's Overthinking Hours rn i guess

my Point is that i hate how as soon as i tell myself 'No More Fics Until You Get A Damn License' i suddenly have ideas and motivation for ten different projects. and yes i know it's probably just my avoidance manifesting itself. wanting to busy myself with writing so i can feel productive while avoiding my greatest fears. but knowing that doesn't change that it's happening!! i am sitting here hyper-self-aware in a hell of my own creation!!

but i should know better by now than to think i can force myself to do something by denying myself other things. it always ends up with me just doing nothing instead. there is no force strong enough to motivate me until the consequences of inaction become genuinely unbearable. and brother i can bear a lot in the name of avoidance.

and it's not like the environment i'm in is whatsoever encouraging me. maybe i'd feel different about it if i had a safe, functional vehicle to drive instead of something that won't even pass the safety inspection. maybe i'd feel different about it if i knew it wasn't gonna run me another $100+ a month on insurance i can't afford and legally have to have. maybe i'd feel different about it if i had someone i liked and trusted that would be patient with me and encourage me every day and teach me everything i need to know instead of just. expecting me to magically obtain all of this knowledge bc i'm 'smart'. like. my father in christ the apple unfortunately doesn't fall that far from the dumbass tree. just because i know a few big words and can weave them together decently when i try real hard doesn't mean everything comes easy to me. i was never all that 'gifted' i'm just good at memorizing shit. i dropped out of school the very second shit got too hard. i have never in my life learned how to study anything. i am a spoiled little baby who never had to try hard and now if it doesn't genuinely hold my attention/pique my interest/fixate me or i can't memorize it within a very short period of time, any and all information will simply bounce right back off of my brain. so tell me how in the fuck i'm supposed to force myself to study something that i not only couldn't care less about, but actively fear. how do i do it.

'you do it scared' yeah yeah i know. i've heard. but unfortunately until the conces get closer to quencing and life forces my hand, i'm afraid i'm just gonna sit here maladaptively playing with silly little characters in my mind and miserably avoiding all my fears just like i have for the past decade.

anyways. what a day. it's 6pm so i've hit my 16-hour consciousness quota and wanna crash in bed but i should try to push it a little further so maybe i'll wake up at a more normal time tomorrow. and just as i figured it might, this unintentional day-long post has chronicled the often-occurring scenario where i stress out about how to spend my day and then the whole day just kinda slips away from me anyways and i don't get anything done that i wanted to. typical Sunday vibes i suppose.

while i won't be watching any shows or doing any writing tonight and don't even feel in the mood to do any gaming, mayhaps i'll linger on Tumblr for a little while longer and fill up my queue so i can feel like i at least did one of the things i thought about doing this morning. i do wish i were more consistently active on this blog bc believe it or not i Do love it here. i'm just often too tired to do just about anything but the bare minimum these days and sadly, blogging is not on that priority list.

but it's not often these days that i put so many of my thoughts into words like i have here and tbh i'm feeling kinda drained now so i might just work on a coloring page, eat my mashed potatoes and let my brain go quiet with some youtube video in the background. that sounds nice. /gen

goodnight, Tumblr.