#we’re all adults but if you can’t say something to my face then I won’t say anything to yours ❤️❤️

[motorsportbarbie13]

Aftermath - Chapter 5

Aftermath - MV33 - Chapter 1 Aftermath - Chapter 2 Aftermath - Chapter 3 Aftermath - Chapter 4 Master List

When Lando leaves you heartbroken after you get tired of trying to make something out of nothing for far too long, Max steps in to help you pick up the pieces.

warnings: this chapter contains language and descriptions that illustrate abuse (mental and emotional). please don't engage with my work if you find any of the topics triggering. lando is, once again, an absolute asshole in this. i'd also like to point out that this is a character i am writing, i in no way am insinuating or implying the real lando is like this in any way.

pairing: max verstappen x leclercsister!reader

word count: 4k or something like that?

(Everyone say ‘thank you’ to @lestapiastrisgirl for beta reading and helping me through late night plot crisis so this can come out today!!)

f1.gossip.source posted

f1.gossip.source It's been months since @/Lando and @/MissLeClerc have been spotted togtether and we're starting to wonder...are they even together anymore?! Lando was spotted out alone in Monaco, looking annoyed at fans calling his name while his (ex???) girlfriend was papped out and about with none other than...Max Verstappen. Again. Rumors about the LeClerc sister and Dutch driver started to swirl right around the time her and Lando stopped being seen out in public...What do we think, chat??? Has little miss leclerc finally ditched the cocky British pilot for a new Dutch beau??? user029 maybe she got tired of having to parent her boyfriend??? user220 if it's true, she's really upgraded. 4 time world champion vs...what??? 4 time race winner. please. user0298 he never supported her art or anything, i'm not surprised she's moved on. max always looks smitten with her.

“Lando, you have got to get this under control.” The head of McLaren’s communications team hisses, her glare shooting daggers at the driver who’s just walked into the the hospitality building ahead of the race in Belgium. 

Lando glances up from his phone, face pale and eyes worried. “How the fuck am I supposed to control what the gossip pages post?” 

Marina throws her hands up in the air as she paces, her McLaren team kit wrinkled from lack of sleep thanks to the British driver. In the four weeks since your argument with Lando after Austria, things have only gotten worse. You’re still not talking to him and he still hasn’t figured out where the hell you’re living. You’re not staying with Charles and Alexandra or Jade, he’s been subtly watching both buildings. He knows you’re still in Monaco because you’ve been papped out with your family and friends but most maddeningly Max Verstappen. 

Everyone seems to have noticed you’re not living with Lando anymore, your appearances in his streams have dwindled down to nothing. Fewtrell has had to start banning people form his chat because they won’t stop asking about you and what’s going on. Everyone knows that something went down but you’re straight up refusing to behave like an adult and come back to Lando, where you belong and it’s infuriating. 

“You can’t, obviously.” Marina sighs, sitting down at one of the high top tables in the middle of the suite. 

Around her, the Thursday afternoon crew of engineers and communications people buzz, all prepping for their weekends. Everyone seems to be acting normal but Lando can feel their glares on his back as he walks through the building. They all know he’s causing the entire team grief by causing so much drama with you, taking the attention away from the decent start to the year they’d had before all hell had broken loose a few months ago. 

“But,” She continues, leveling a glare at Lando. “You either need to bite the bullet and release a joint statement with her announcing your breakup or you need to get her to the track this weekend and make a big show of a united front. It’s up to you Lando, but you need to do something. I can’t keep saying ‘no comment’ whenever we’re asked about the distraction this is causing the team.” 

Lando pulls at his curls, like hell he’s going to admit that you’d left him. He supposed he could go rogue and release a statement without you. That way he could control the narrative and try to get the fans back on his side if he made something up like a cheating scandal or something. The moment that the thought flutters through his mind, he forces it out. For some fucking reason, the fans seem to have a soft spot for you and it’s maddening. Lando knew there was no way he could get public opinion on his side, not with how he was getting ripped apart on socials right now. 

“We’re not broken up.” He bites out, taking a sip out of his water bottle as he contemplates what he can do. 

Marina glances up from her phone, brow lifted in question. “That’s not what it looks like here.” She turns her phone towards Lando and shows him a photo of you descending the stairs of a private jet that’s just landed in Belgium. In front of you, already down the stairs and waiting on the tarmac for you is your brother with Leo cradled in his arms. 

And behind you? A fiery rage burns bright and hot in Lando’s chest when he sees who’s behind you. 

Fucking Max Verstappen. 

The look you’re giving him makes his heart twist and for the first time since this entire thing began, Lando actually misses you. He misses the way you used to smile up at him like that, like your entire world revolved Lando and no one else. He missed the way your eyes would follow him around a room, how your body would center towards his. The way you looked at Max was how you used to look at him and it made jealousy twist violently deep in Lando’s gut just looking at the photo. 

“I’ll take care of it.” Lando spits before stalking off to the privacy of his drivers room. 

f1.gossip.source posted

f1.gossip.source Alexandra, Charles, and his little sister were seen arriving in Belgium this afternoon on Max Verstappen's private jet. It's yet another instance where the LeClerc sister was spotted without boyfriend Lando Norris, sparking new breakup rumors. Neither party has confirmed if they're still together, with McLaren PR insisting that the personal lives of their drivers are off limits. user019 honestly, I'm here for a LeClerc sister & Max relationship. >>>user028 me too. at least Max seems to actually like her, unlike Lando user0029 I mean, we all can see it. Why can't they just confirm it already??? user2333 fully on board the 'get her away from Lando train' ROOTING FOR YOU MAX!!! Get your girl!!! user029 my friend was out at the restaurant they were all at a few weeks ago and said that Lando crashed the dinner but left after a few minutes looking PISSED. >>>user029 honestly, Lando is kind of unhinged rn. get over her my man, move onnnnnnn!

“I can’t believe you got me to agree to come this weekend.” You grumble as you follow Max towards the paddock gates Friday morning before practice. 

“You’ve barely been to any races this year and it’s almost the end of July!” Max shoots over his shoulder, grinning like an idiot he’s so happy you decided to come this weekend. 

“I was at Monaco!” You protest lamely, shoving your elbow into your brother’s ribs when he laughs. 

“You live in Monaco, that doesn’t count Little Dove.” Charles chuckles, rubbing at the sore spot where you’d just assaulted him. 

“Whatever.” You mutter, rolling your eyes. 

After arriving in Belgium last night, you had gone straight to your hotel room, needing a bit of alone time ahead of what you were sure was going to be a stressful weekend. As usual, you’d been papped arriving on Max’s jet, which you were certain Lando had seen because the moment you had checked your messages in the SUV Max had rented for your little group, there had been a text waiting for you from him. 

I know you probably don’t want to see me and I get that. I’m sorry, from the bottom of my heart. Can we please get together this weekend and talk? Somewhere neutral if that’s what you want…

As you settled into the hotel room that was yours for the weekend, a war was being fought in your brain. On one hand, you didn’t trust a single thing coming from Lando’s mouth. Not a single thing. He hadn’t given you any reason to trust anything that he said for months, so why should you start now? But on the other hand…

On the other hand, you and Lando had so much history. His message seemed remorseful. You knew everyone in your life would kill you if you even entertained the idea of getting back with him but somewhere deep in your chest a little voice was saying maybe you should hear him out. He was finally leaving you alone, finally backing off, why did he have to pop up right when you thought you had finally gotten him fully out of your system?

You didn’t tell anyone Lando had texted you. Had been texting you all morning as well. You knew no one would understand. But you also hadn’t returned a single text either. The energy that responding to Lando would take was something that you just didn’t have today. 

Your little group is captured by photographers as you walk in, a few even call out your name asking where you’ll be spending your time this weekend. Since dating Lando, you liked to split your time between the McLaren garage and Ferrari but this weekend was going to be different. Your VIP pass had Charles’ face and name on the back, not Lando’s. You had credentials from Ferrari like normal but this morning, Max had also slipped a Red Bull card around your neck, telling you if you got sick of looking at all that red this weekend, you could spend time with him. 

“Are you going to come to the dark side this weekend and use those Red Bull credentials to whip up some gossip?” Max murmurs in your ear, watching as Charles trots off ahead of you after Leo. 

You bump your shoulder with his, rolling your eyes and laughing lightly. “Stop.”

Mischief plays in Max’s pale blue eyes as he smiles down at you, enjoying the way your cheeks flush under his attention. Ever since the race in Austria a few weeks ago, you and the Dutch driver had been spending a lot of time together, all casual but he’d really begun to look forward to the nights you spent curled up on his couch eating takeout and watching bad reality tv with him. 

Before he has a chance to reply though, he sees the color drain from your face as you freeze in the middle of the sidewalk. Whipping his head around, Max searches for what, or more accurately, who has spooked you. He already knows who he’s looking for so when his eyes settle on the McLaren driver standing just outside the sliding glass doors of the McLaren hospitality building across the paddock, his stomach lurches. 

You had known you’d see Lando this weekend. How could you not? This was literally his workplace too. There was no way to avoid him, you knew that but you hadn’t expected to see him so quickly and before you had managed to work out how to respond to his text from the night before. 

Your brother is between where you stand and McLaren’s hospitality so he clocks Lando staring after you at about the same time as you and Max. Turning on his heel, he scoops up Leo and makes a bee line back to where you stand, utterly frozen. 

“Dovie.” Max coos in your ear, twining his fingers with yours in an attempt to pull you out of the state you’re in. “Hey, sweet girl, look at me.” 

You ignore him, gaze locked on Lando’s frozen frame. 

Charles steps in between you and Lando, instantly cutting off your line of sight. This seems to yank you back to reality and your brother snaps into action. “Shit. I’ve got a meeting in five minutes. I don’t want her alone.” Your brother sounds panicked, like the way you’re just staring blankly ahead is really freaking him out. 

So, he improvises. “Here, take Leo and go take a walk. There’s tons of open space on the other side of the paddock.” Charles presses the small dog into your hands and you drop your gaze away from Lando for the first time in several moments. 

Your gaze drops to where your hand is still clutched in Max’s larger one. The steady warmth from his presence grounds you, allowing you to pull in a full breath for the first time in several minutes. 

“No, she’s not going off on her own.” Max cuts in, tone sharp. “I’ve got some time before I need to be in the car. Come stay in Red Bull with me until practice, then you can watch from my garage, okay?” 

The force of his words leave little wiggle room for argument and Charles can’t help but smirk a little. He should have known Max would step right up to make sure you were taken care of. 

“Yeah.” You agree weakly, finally tearing your gaze away from Lando, who is still starting at you, light eyes sharp and observant. You can feel the way his gaze drops to where Max’s hand is curled around yours possessively. “Yeah, that sounds good.” 

Without waiting for Lando to get any more ideas like wanting to try to come talk to you, Max tugs on your hand. He knows you well enough by now to know that you need a distraction and you need it fast. “Come on, you said you wanted to stir up some gossip this weekend, well here’s your chance.” 

You laugh despite yourself, nuzzling your face into Leo’s soft fur. “I’m keeping the dog.” You tell your brother as you allow yourself to be led away by Max. All Charles does is nod, relieved to know that you’re in good hands while he’s busy. 

missleclerc posted

24,029 likes liked by maxverstappen1, charlesleclerc, redbullracing, and others missleclerc in my defense, I was kidnapped ☝🏻 maxverstappen1 whatever, you wanted to be there. >>>missleclerc lies. It was a hostage situation. >>>maxverstappen1 is that what the kids are calling it these days? >>>user299 chat, are they flirting in the comments??? WE CAN SEE YOU TWO charlesleclerc can't believe you subjected your nephew to this. please make sure you take a shower before dinner tonight. >>>missleclerc rude. user0209 ya know, I'm kinda here for this ship. >>>user987 did you see how utterly distracted Max was during the one interview where she walked past him? couldn't take his eyes off her >>>user0209 lando's gonna be crashing out after seeing that interview tonight >>>user3443 GOOD. bro deserves it

“I think you may need to roll me up to my room after that dinner.” You groan, rubbing at the food baby making your black leather skirt pinch painfully at your hips. 

After qualifying Saturday evening, when the boys were all finished with their media and team duties, Max had insisted that you, your brother, Alexandra and himself all go out to dinner. He’d wanted to insist it just be the two of you but he wasn’t blind to the gossip you two had stirred up in the paddock Friday afternoon so he’d figured bringing your brother and his girlfriend along would be a bit safer. 

“I think I ate my weight in spaghetti.” Alexandra groans beside you as you plod towards the front doors of the hotel. “Carry me up to the room please, Cha?” She coos, throwing her arms around your brother’s neck as if she can’t go on one step more.

 Charles laughs, snaking his arms around her waist and pulls her close, dropping a kiss on her forehead, a gesture so tender and intimate you have to turn away. Your gaze immediately connects with Max who is standing a few paces behind your brother and his girlfriend. A small smile tips up at the corner of his full lips when you make eye contact at him and your stomach swoops at the affection for you in his eyes. 

You’re imagining things, you think instantaneously. There’s no way Max sees you as anything other than a friend, after everything that you’ve endured while he’s watched. How could anyone like Max be attracted to someone who had spent an entire year drowning in a failing relationship? It was likely a pity smile, something he gives you because he feels sorry that you haven’t found what your brother has found in Alexandra. 

“There you are…” A smooth British accent interrupts your thoughts, jarring you out of your spiral. “You stopped answering my texts.” Lando says pointedly as he joins your little group in the lobby of the hotel. 

Your eyes shutter closed as you blow out a breath. You had been hoping to avoid this confrontation all together but it was just another nail in the coffin of why Max wouldn’t even want to begin to get involved with you in the first place. Why would he willingly want to be with someone who was still so intertwined with her ex still? You’ve spent so long with Lando, were so intertwined with him it would certainly be easier to just go back to him, wouldn’t it? Maybe he was all you deserved after wasting three years of your life. 

“I was at dinner, Lando. It’s rude to text during a meal.” You carefully control the tone of your voice, not wanting to instigate yet another public altercation with him. 

“Ah, yes. I’m sure the company was riveting.” His eyes flicker over to where Max stands, stiff and unmoving, the smile that he’d just been showering you with totally gone from his face. “So, what do you say, can we finally talk like two adults?” 

“She doesn’t want to talk to you, Norris.” Charles cuts in, voice sharp and short. 

“I think your sister can answer for herself, LeClerc.” There’s a challenge in Lando’s eyes that you don’t miss and you know you have about five seconds to diffuse the situation before it gets out of hand. Again. 

Placing your hand on Lando’s elbow, you tug him away. “If you promise to chill out and actually listen to me, we can go to the bar and get a drink. One drink, Lando. Can you do that?” 

If you had been looking at Max then, you would have seen the light flicker out of his eyes. He’s grateful that his hands are tucked away in his pockets when he hears your words because the way the ball up into tight fists would be embarrassing had anyone seen it. He wants to say something, anything, that might convince you to not walk away with him. He wants to tell you how he’s feeling, how this afternoon with you in his drivers room and then garage was the best start to a race weekend he’d had in recent memory. He wants to beg you not to go with Lando. 

But he can’t. He can’t because he still hasn’t worked up the courage to tell you how he feels. Max is stuck in this painful sort of limbo where you two spend time together and he craves any bit of attention he can glean from you but it’s not enough for him to risk your fragile state of being right now. He knows you’re still recovering from leaving Lando. Three years is a long time to spend with someone, even if the last year was as painful as Lando had made it for you. He knows you’re not ready for him to tell you how he’s feeling but he’s afraid if he doesn’t, you’ll go running back to Lando. 

While the internal debate about what to do with his feelings rages on inside, Max watches as a cat-like grin spreads slowly across Lando’s face. He’s won. Lando’s won and they both know it. 

“Of course, baby.” 

You bristle at the name but without the energy to fight him, all you do is roll your eyes. Max’s mask of indifference somehow staying in place when he hears the nickname, but it tears him up on the inside. He’s not sure how he manages it. 

“I’ll see you guys tomorrow. Thanks for dinner, Max.” Taking a step towards Max, you fold yourself into him, enjoying the way his arms come around your waist without hesitation. The hug is firm and he holds onto you for several moments longer than necessary. 

 “I can stay down here if you want me to.” He murmurs in your ear, his breath tickling the shell of your ear, sending a cool shiver of pleasure down your spine. 

“I’m a big girl, I can handle him.” 

“It’s not you I’m worried about.” He responds, looking down at you. You’re surprised to see a stark look of concern all over his face, like he’s genuinely worried about you. 

“Max, I’m fine. It’s just one drink.” 

But Max knows Lando. It’s not just going to be one drink. But what other choice does he have? Reluctantly, he releases you and takes a step back, forcing himself out of arms length. You instantly miss the grounding warmth of his body and fight to keep your expression neutral. 

Max watches you walk away, shoulder brushing with Lando’s and has to resist the urge to rub at the painful clenching sensation that wraps itself around his heart. 

“You don’t have to watch her leave.” Charles murmurs, standing off to the side with a worried looking Alexandra. They both share Max’s opinion that this is a bad idea but like Max, what else can they say?

Max scrubs at his face, suddenly so overwhelmingly exhausted that all he wants to do is climb into bed and sleep until the race tomorrow. “What am I supposed to do, Charles?” He throws his hands up in defeat as you disappear around the corner just as Lando’s arm slips around your waist. “I don’t have a single claim on her, she’s not mine to miss.” 

His stomach twists painfully at the thought of having to go back to his hotel room knowing you’re touching him. 

“She won’t go back to him.” Charles says with more confidence than Max can muster up himself. “She’s been doing so well lately and we all see it’s partially because of you, mate.”

“Don’t give up on her, Max. Not yet.” Alexandra offers quietly, stepping closer to Charles before reaching out and placing a hand on Max’s shoulder. “She’s stronger than we all think but she’s going to need your patience right now. It’ll be okay.” 

The way it physically hurt watching you walk away had alarm bells ringing in Max’s head. He hadn’t realized just how attached to you he’d become in the time since you’d left Lando and it terrified him. If you went back to Lando tonight, he had this gut feeling he’d lose you forever and he wasn’t sure he’d be able to endure that. 

Max barely sleeps that night, tossing and turning for hours trying to convince himself he hadn’t just watched you walk right out of his life again. He knew he was, once again, getting ahead of himself and that he needed to wait before going into full spiral mode but he couldn’t quite get himself there. 

By the time he’s downstairs in the hotel lobby the next morning, waiting for the car that Red Bull had hired for him, he’s exhausted and on the brink of biting someone’s head off. 

“You doing okay over there, Verstappen? You seem a little…irritated.” 

Max turns and has to stifle a groan. “Why can’t you just leave well enough alone, Lando?” 

Lando has the nerve to look confused, brows furrowing as he tilts his head to the side. “I have no idea what you’re on about, mate.” 

It takes every ounce of control Max has honed over the years not to punch the British driver square in the face. “Why are you so fixated on her now that she’s finally trying to get away from you?” 

Lando smirks, quick and ugly, before he shakes his head. “See, now that’s where you’re wrong Max.” He reaches over and pats at Max’s shoulder patronizingly. “I don’t think she really wants to get away form me anymore. Not after last night.” 

It feels like the breath has been sucked out of Max’s lungs at Lando’s words. “What the fuck are you talking about?” He hisses, heat creeping up his neck. 

“You’re a smart man, Max. Use that big brain of yours. I think you know exactly what I’m talking about.” Lando grins like the Cheshire Cat as he shrugs. “Oh look, my ride’s here. Good luck out there today, Verstappen.” 

Without waiting for a response because he knows full well he’s caught Max completely off guard, Lando saunters off, hands deep in his pockets, without a second look back at the Dutch driver. 

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[the-monkeies-girl]

Hey if you make fun of someone for the way they cope / for breaking down emotionally or assume someone is using their trauma as a “weapon” after they had been vulnerable to you then you can royally go fuck yourself and unfollow me right now, you don’t deserve my efforts or my writing. The fact I encountered this stuff in such a small fandom that I love is astonishing. I did not join this fandom to get people to hate me, I joined this fandom because I love the movies and I love the characters, I see myself in them. I see my good qualities that I love about myself, and I see the flaws I'm always willing to admit to and willing to work on to become a better person because that’s what being alive is. Being a better version of who you were before. I wanted to write and share it with people and I still will, I’m damn good at it. This is not one of them good qualities though, unfortunately. You know being Russian means you're petty?

[anthotneystark]

I wanna reach out and grab ya

(edit: now on ao3!)

In the aftermath, as the dust settles, the world shakes.

He expects it, but it still catches him off balance.

He leans against the ambulance, brushes off Nancy’s comment about him needing medical care. Jonathan gives him a look like he wants to call him out on it, but he lets it go. He’s not sure how long he’s been awake, but he knows that if either of them really pressed him, he’d fold like a paper bag.

You know, easily but with a decent amount of noise.

It’s all he can do to keep upright, using the cool metal door to help. The world doesn’t exactly feel steady, but he took a few hits to the head and he’s sure that’s not helping. There’s a ringing in his ears, his sides ache, his face burns, and he’s not altogether sure how long he’s been awake. He’s sure it’s been somewhere along the lines of too long. He’s not looking forward to going home, not when all he’s got waiting there is a cold, empty house. His parents won’t be back for a few more weeks.

Even if there’s a part of him, a big part if he can admit it, that desperately wants his mom to be there, he’s not going to call and ask for her. He’s supposed to be an adult now, he’s supposed to be growing up, he can’t call for her.

Even if it stings a little, watching other people reuniting with their families.

He loses track of time a little, and is only snapped out of it when he’s dragged into a hug. It’s tight, warm, and so gentle for how fierce it is. He reflexively hugs back before he puts it all together, before he recognizes that it’s Claudia Henderson. She’s saying something, but he can’t really hear it because he’s too busy trying to catch up on what exactly is happening. When she pulls back, she either repeats it or it’s a different question.

Robin answers before he can.

“Yeah, Steve’s gonna stay with me tonight.”

“I am?”

“Yeah, dingus, remember?”

“Right, yeah, I’m staying with her tonight.” Except. “How are we getting to your place? I lost my keys,” he adds.

“Oh, don’t worry about it, I’ll take you,” Claudia says. A godsend, really, always. He’s going to need to get new keys entirely given that his have probably been melted by the fire, but he can’t tell her that.

Robin sticks to his side as they go to the car, her hand slides into his and he holds on tight. He doesn’t let go until they’re in her house, after the quiet car ride where he almost dozed off a dozen times. Her parents are at work, both on the night shift at the moment, so it’s just them. Convenient, given that they’re probably going to wake up screaming at some point. She shoves him into the bathroom first and he uses her strawberry shampoo and doesn’t bother to even attempt anything resembling his usual process for cleaning up.

While she takes her turn, he pulls on the clothes she set out. A Hawkins Band tee shirt that’s a little tight and a pair of gym shorts that are probably bigger than his own. He’s almost dozing when she starts messing with his hair, helping to dry it without him even noticing she’d finished her shower. It’s more a nervous movement than anything, but it feels nice.

“We’re going to need to keep some of your clothes here, you know.”

“Why?”

“So you have something to wear, obviously.”

Obviously. Because he’s going to stay with her sometimes. He should have her clothes at his place too then, even if he’s perfectly willing to let her raid his closet. He likes the idea though, the plan to mesh themselves together already. He’s never had anyone in his life who’s made themselves at home in his heart this quickly.

He’s not sure when he drifts off, when she tugs him the rest of the way onto the bed, when she pulls the blanket up, only distantly feels the way she leans into him, the way he reflexively curls into her.

She feels like she’s always been here with him and he can’t figure out how he lived without her.

----------

Robin is perfect.

Not like, literally, and it’s not the same as when he’d say it about Nancy.

That’s the other thing that he figures out with her. He’s really not in love with Nancy. He’d said it, but it really sinks in later. It sinks in the first time they talk about romance, as he tries to give her flirting advice while she laughs at him and asks if he needs a new whiteboard.

They do mingle their closets too, as planned. She still steals his clothes, and he ends up wearing her tee shirts more than his own. She takes him thrifting and shows him all her secrets and he teaches her the art of negotiation in stores.

(She’s in awe when he talks down a sales clerk over a stain that he then magics away in the laundry room at his house.)

He shows her how he learned to cook and she helps him to get creative with new ideas. She demands the first bite every time, and he’s happy to share it.

Her parents welcome him though. Her mom teaches him more about first aid than he learned lifeguarding, and her dad teaches him more about cars in his spare time. He’d known some, but it’s nice, being taught instead of just figuring things out on his own through trial and error. It doesn’t take long for him to get fully intermingled in the Buckley family and it’s the most love he’s ever felt.

Somewhere between the whiteboard and that first night spent sharing a bed, they become SteveAndRobin. Somewhere between her mom finishing her shift and finding them curled up on the couch watching cartoons (because after being exposed to terrifying monsters and soldiers, cartoons are necessary) and her dad coming home to find all three of them wrapped up in it, he finds out he fits perfectly in this space.

Somewhere between the first family dinner and the start of the school year, he unofficially becomes a Buckley.

Sitting there in the hospital waiting room, collapsed into a chair because he’s never felt this exhausted, with Robin at one side and Dustin at the other, with Erica and Lucas whispering with Nancy, with Eddie and Max in surgery, he feels it all building up. All the feelings he’d tried to push down, the fear and panic and pain, bubbling up to the surface. He’s not really looking where his eyes are aimed, not even paying attention until Robin is forcing his heavy, aching limbs up and toward an empty room. She gives him a look as she leaves him on the bed and he’s not even confused about her leaving him there to go back to the waiting room because it’s better if she stays with Dustin anyway.

Except then the door is opening again, with a familiar and welcome sight stepping in.

And then it’s all too much.

Those emotions bubble over with a half-sobbed “Mom” and then arms are around him, holding him together as he splinters into a million pieces.

His mother smells like expensive perfume, floral and chemical and strong. But Betty Buckley smells like antiseptic and cinnamon and it’s the most comforting smell in the world right then.

She doesn’t question the grime or blood staining his clothes, doesn’t try to get him to tell her what happened, just holds him because he can’t break in front of the kids, can’t let them see how much he’s struggling right now. He needs this, is the thing. He hasn’t really broken down yet because he has to be the strong one, he has to be tough, even if it kills him, but she’s safe. She’s safe enough for him to let go.

She lets him get it all out, and still doesn’t ask anything. It doesn’t really matter, not at the moment, so she just brushes his hair off his forehead, uses a damp cloth to wipe away some of the dirt, helps him to pull on scrubs before halting that process to treat his back and arms and sides and neck. He’s gone a little numb, but she moves quick anyway. And then he’s on his back, an IV hooked into his hand, and she’s pressing a kiss to his forehead and telling him to rest.

So he does.

It’s not a conscious decision, more like he was just waiting for someone to tell him he could.

When he wakes, Robin is in the bed next to him. Dustin is on a rolling cot against the wall. He knows without knowing that Max is down the hall, Lucas and Erica are with her, and Nancy is probably bossing around everyone in that way she does that he can’t help respecting. He doesn’t stay awake long.

----------

He’s going stir crazy.

There’s a lot of mixed feelings. On one hand, he’s slept a lot. On the other, the town is a little broken. Robin and Dustin are volunteering, and he’ll join them when he can get out there, but Richard Buckley is under strict orders to keep him from making an escape. The plant has been temporarily shut down, and he’s a glass half-full kind of guy, but it’s really inconvenient for Steve’s desire to be out of the hospital.

He still loves him though, really.

He finally gets a window when Rich steps out for real food.

(It had been hilarious when he and Robin established their dads are both “Richard”, but while Steve’s dad thinks shortening it sounds ridiculous, Robin’s dad loves to give himself new short names at every opportunity. The week he wanted to go by Chard was a fun week.)

He goes for the door, playing nonchalant, and is dismayed to find someone sitting outside.

“He told me you’d try and escape,” the man says, not looking up from his newspaper.

“I’m not escaping,” he lies.

“Humor me.” The man looks over at him then and Steve has to bite back his surprise. “Huh. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say your last name isn’t Buckley.”

“It’s not.”

“Then why have I been hearing for months about Ritchie’s boy?”

“Technically I am that.”

“Not the right one though.”

“No, but that’s sematics.”

“You’re missing an ‘n’ there, son.” The correction is gentle, carrying the tone of someone who’s used to reminding someone else of little details. For some reason, it doesn’t sting like it did when other people corrected him.

“Right, yeah.”

“You had a bit of blood loss, I hear. Maybe you should lay back down again.”

“I can’t. There’s…people are out there and need help. Other people got hurt worse than me. I can’t just lay here and do nothing.”

“You’re not doing nothing, you’re recovering.”

“I’m fine.”

“Doesn’t sound like you are,” he half mumbles, and god, it’s so familiar it aches.

“I don’t know why you’re focused on keeping me in bed. You of all people should be fine with me going out there to help out.” There’s a beat of silence, where Steve thinks he maybe overstepped, getting just a sigh in return.

“Maybe. But I know damn well how important you are to a friend of mine and he asked for a favor. I’m not about to let him down.”

“Mr. Munson –”

“Wayne.”

“…Wayne. You should go back to Eddie. He needs you more.”

“He’s got a visitor already. I’m not hovering.”

“I think you’re hovering a bit here.”

“Well opinions are like assholes, son. Everyone’s got one.” It’s enough to startle a laugh out of him, as Wayne stands up and ushers him back into the room. He didn’t notice while he was standing there as the pain in his muscles, the itching of the scabs, the exhaustion in his bones, creeps back up on him. He protests, but doesn’t really fight as he’s nudged back into the too firm mattress.

“Get some more rest, kid. Long days are coming, take advantage while you can.”

----------

“I just don’t get it!”

“Is he still talking about this?”

Robin’s groan is the only answer he needs. Dustin, back on his usual arguments after saving the world again, is expanding his hobby. Now he’s not just bugging Steve and Robin about their love life (love lives?), he’s dragging others in on the argument too.

“Dusty-buns, you seem to be awful involved in this,” Eddie teases. “Maybe you have a crush on Robin.” She makes a face, throws a marshmallow at him, and Steve snorts as he cackles.

“No! I just don’t know why they won’t date! Eddie, back me up on this,” Dustin says. “They’re perfect for each other! They laugh at the same jokes, share clothes all the time, and don’t even argue, Steve, I’ve seen her wear your jeans before and you’ve worn her sweaters. They share food with each other, spend all their time together, and they share chapstick!”

“Hey, we don’t spend all our time together! Sometimes I wait for her to bike to my house.”

“Not helping, babe.”

“See!” Dustin is probably seconds from losing his marbles, and Steve really should put him out of his misery, but it’s too funny still.

“You’re missing some key information, boy-genius,” Eddie says.

“Like what?”

“Like the fact that they’re never going to date.”

“That’s what doesn’t make sense!”

“Robin, pass me our chapstick,” Steve says, just to make Dustin a little more insane.

“You had it last. Steven, did you lose our chapstick?”

“I definitely gave it back to you.”

“Here you go,” Eddie says, tossing the little tube to Steve with a grin. Dustin’s eyes dart between the three of them like he’s just gotten new information.

“Eddie. Are you…dating Robin?”

It’s Steve’s turn to groan, and he doesn’t need to look to see the face Robin is making.

“Jesus Christ, Henderson, Eddie is dating me!” Now he’s silent. And Steve is going to panic if he stays silent.

“Huh. That makes a lot of sense. You were weirdly jealous.”

“I was what? No I wasn’t!”

“You kind of were,” Robin adds.

“And it makes sense why you wouldn’t date Robin, who is literally perfect for you.”

“How many times do I have to tell you we’re just friends.”

“Yeah, and I could be literally perfect for him, pipsqueak,” Eddie says, grabbing one of Robin’s marshmallows to throw at him.

“You and Robin are still weirdly codependent, it has to be said,” Dustin insists, batting away Eddie’s attempts to ruffle his hair.

“Yeah, well, that’s what happens when you get psychically linked to each other. Get used to it, Henderson.”

“You’re what?!” Eddie and Dustin’s voices overlap, but they’re both drowned out by his and Robin’s laughter.

Their expressions alone are worth the lecture they’re going to get about keeping secrets.

[lycandrophile]

it's silly but the biggest reason why im not into t yet is bc im so afraid of losing my hair. do you have any solutions/tips for it?

first of all, i don’t think it’s silly — it’s natural to be worried when hair loss is talked about by so many people as like…one of the worst results of aging for men. listening to my dad talk about how much he hates balding definitely did not make me feel particularly good about the knowledge that i may very well be joining him someday. i’m not saying the fear is right, because i don’t think hair loss is something awful that we should avoid at all costs, but it’s an understandable fear given the beauty standards we’re working with, and it’s one that a lot of us (myself included) feel.

one thing that’s helped me is just…paying more attention to the guys that i interact with on a daily basis. i’ve learned two things from it: 1) hair loss is super fucking common. i’d say it’s much harder to find an adult man who isn’t balding at all than it is to find one who’s completely bald. and 2) if you forget everything you’ve been told about how bad hair loss is, you’ll realize that quite frankly, every single one of those guys looks totally fucking fine. it doesn’t ruin their appearance and make them ugly, it looks totally natural and isn’t really even something you’d notice if you weren’t looking for it. we put so much weight on it but it’s really just not that big of a deal. i’ll hear my parents talk shit about men in my family who are losing their hair when i didn’t even notice a difference last time i saw them. it’s one of those things (like so many other appearance-related things) that you really only notice at all because you’ve been taught that you’re supposed to care about it.

this isn’t something i’ve done personally, but if you really want to desensitize yourself to the idea of it, embrace the time-honored queer tradition of just shaving your whole damn head! find out what you’d look like without hair, find out how you feel about it and what you can do that makes you feel good about your appearance without hair, test the waters while it’s still a temporary change and not something permanent. that way, it won’t feel like this big scary unknown, and you’ll actually have a frame of reference for your feelings about how you look without hair rather than accepting the societal assumption that you’ll inevitably hate it. if you don’t want to actually shave your head, you could also just fuck around with bald filters or photoshop and see what happens.

oh, and if you’re attracted to men, keep an eye out for guys who are bald or balding and also hot as fuck. in my experience, there’s no insecurity or potential future insecurity that being gay for other men hasn’t helped me with. just off the top of my head, i can think of a couple actors who i think are absolutely fucking gorgeous who have helped me get over my fears about losing my hair. despite what our anti-aging-obsessed world might want you to think, there is no such thing as a physical feature that automatically makes someone less attractive, and while making attractiveness less of a priority in your life is good, it can’t hurt to also give yourself some proof that actually, you might lose your hair and look hot as hell doing it.

basically, entertain the possibility that it won’t be a bad thing at all! whether that’s just because it turns out to be a neutral thing for you or because you end up actually liking it, it’s not an inherently bad thing. i’ve ended up liking a lot of things that were “supposed to” be bad effects of t — i love the weight i’ve gained and the new shape it gives my body, i get a lot of gender euphoria from the fact that my acne is now on parts of my face that i saw a lot of guys in high school get it and i’m not complaining about the scars i get from it either because i’ve always liked the added texture that acne scars give my skin, and so on. i think there’s a lot of joy to be had in the changes we’re taught to fear, once we look past that conditioning and actually explore how we feel about it.

but if it’s something you really don’t want and you just want to improve your chances of not having to deal with it, it’s not like there’s nothing you can do! products like finasteride (oral) and minoxidil (usually topical but i think there might also be oral versions) are pretty commonly used among trans guys, for the purpose of avoiding hair loss and for other reasons, and there are plenty of other anti-hair loss products out there (though i don’t know how effective any one of them might be). if it’s a big enough deal for you, you can just decide that you’ll go off of t if/when you start noticing signs of it, since no longer having higher t levels would stop the process in its tracks. and if you don’t find prevention options that work for you so it ends up happening, you can always explore different hair styles (judging by the pattern of hair loss i see in my family, i suspect that keeping my hair long would make it less obvious if i started losing mine), find your preferred method of covering it when you don’t feel good about it (personally i love a good beanie generally and would probably wear them a lot more if i didn’t have hair to worry about because my main complaint is the way they press my hair onto my neck), or just shave it all off if you don’t like the look of the partial balding but don’t mind a shaved head. the point being — you have options!

at the end of the day, whether you go on t or not, you’re going to see your body change as you age in ways that aren’t always going to be attractive to others or aesthetically pleasing to you. that’s just the reality of having a body. even if you never went on t, you’d get older and you might see your hair thin out even if you don’t bald, you’ll see your skin start to wrinkle and sag in places that used to be smooth, your metabolism might slow or your body fat might start to gather in new places; hell, you might lose your hair for a totally different reason and end up in the same place but without the benefits of having been on t that whole time. life is full of bodily changes like that. transphobes will fearmonger about the permanent changes of testosterone all day long but the truth is, there is no escaping permanent bodily changes. whether or not you go on t, your body now isn’t the same as it will be in 1 or 5 or 10 or 20 or 50 years, just like it isn’t the same as it was at any point in your life before now. our bodies are never supposed to stop growing and aging and changing throughout our lives. there’s no guaranteeing that we’ll love every single change our bodies go through, but that’s okay! there are so many things in life that are more important than the way our bodies look. even if you go on t and lose your hair and don’t like how it looks, your life won’t be ruined; plenty of other things will bring you joy and more than make up for the insecurities.

just think about the gender euphoria and relief from dysphoria that t could give you. would losing your hair be bad enough to outweigh all of that? or is it just the pressure of a society that decided balding is bad that’s making you fear one single change despite how much joy you could have if you let that fear go? only you can decide if going on t is worth the potential downsides for you, but i suspect that for most of us, the benefits of going on t far outweigh the possibility of side effects like hair loss happening down the line.

[haechoxo]

[7:07 pm]

cw; suggestive lol,,

“it wasn’t supposed to be complicated,” you admit, your voice softening. “we were both stressed with school and work, and it just… happened. i thought maybe, eventually, he’d see me as more than just a friend. but now… i don’t know what to think.” you feel a lump forming in your throat, the weight of unspoken feelings pressing down on you as you recall the day your arrangement with haechan started.

your tiny apartment was filled with the scent of coffee and the sound of pages turning. you and haechan were huddled at the coffee table, textbooks, notes, and highlighters spread out before you. finals week was taking its toll, and the exhaustion was evident in both your expressions.

haechan stretched, letting out an exaggerated yawn. “ugh, i can’t take it anymore. my brain feels like mush!”

not glancing up from your notes, stifling a yawn of your own. “just a few more days, and we can sleep for a week.”

he smirked, leaning back on his arms where he sat on the dingy rug. “or, you know, we could find a more fun way to relieve some stress.”

you raised an eyebrow, too tired to fully engage with his antics. “like what? please don’t say more coffee, because i’m pretty sure it’s running through our veins at this point.”

he leaned forward, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “nah, i was thinking something a bit more… intimate.”

your pen paused mid-sentence, finally looking at him, trying to gauge if he was serious. “intimate, huh? like what, a hug?”

he chuckled, shaking his head. “we could fuck.”

you stared at him, dumbfounded, your fatigue momentarily forgotten as your mouth felt incredibly dry, “a-are you serious?”

“dead serious,” he replied, his tone playful as he shrugs, “we’re both stressed, and we’re best friends, what better way to work it out?”

you blinked, trying to process his suggestion, not that the offer wasn’t tempting, the amount of times you pictured kissing his perfect pouty lips, but still! “donghyuck, i don’t… what if it makes things weird?”

he reached across the table, taking your hand in his. “it won’t, i promise. we’re adults, we can handle this. besides, if we can’t help each other out, who can we rely on?”

you chewed on your lower lip, his words doing little to ease the anxiety bubbling up inside you. “i don’t know, hyuck….” all you can think about is your feelings bubbling over, and he finds out in the worst way possible.

“come on, y/n,” he coaxed, his thumb rubbing soothing circles on your hand. “trust me, it’s fine, it’ll be fun!”

you sighed, feeling a mix of nervousness and curiosity. “okay, but if this goes badly, i’m blaming you entirely.”

he grinned, joining you on the couch, “deal. now, let’s get out of study mode for a bit. my brain needs a break from all this academic torture.”

the air between you charged with anticipation as he sat down beside you, feeling a mix of nerves and excitement. you hesitated for a moment, your mind racing with what-ifs, but haechan’s gentle touch and soft smile as he leaned closer gave you the reassurance you needed.

“still okay?” he murmured, his breath warm on your skin.

“yeah,” you replied, your voice barely more than a whisper. “just... nervous.”

“don’t be shy,” he said softly, his fingers brushing a stray hair from your face. “it’s just me, remember?”

you nodded, his lips brushing yours softly at first, testing the waters. your heart raced as you kissed him back, the familiarity of his presence merging with the freshness of the situation, it almost felt natural. he deepened the kiss, one hand finding it’s way to your waist, pulling you closer, while his other held your face, thumb caressing your cheek.

kissing him was everything you imagined it would be—gentle, yet intense, filled with unspoken emotions and years of hidden feelings. as his lips moved against yours, you felt a mixture of relief and uncertainty, the weight of your decision pressing down on you.

just as the kiss began to deepen further, you pulled back slightly, your forehead resting against his, breathing heavily as he continued, kissing down your neck.

as if he’s done it a million times before.

“can i keep going?” he whispered against the column of your neck, his voice low.

previous - next

a/n ; erm… can u tell it was my first time writing a kiss scene🤓 im actually sooo grossed out this was an experience i never thought id breach the topic of… anyway! hope u enjoy!! advice n ur thoughts are appreciated! xoxo jelly

[sinnabarmoth]

Broken Promises

Pairing: Rafayel x fem|Reader

Summary: Reader thinks that her relationship with Rafayel is a fling, some casual fun. Rafayel does not. So when he catches her flirting with other guys he is intent on making sure she knows that he did not wait 800 years to be a second choice.

Content warnings: Adult language. Hate fucking. Vaginal fingering. P in V.

Length: 5k

“Thank you for another fine day of work, miss bodyguard.”

You picked your head up from Rafayel’s shoulder and glared at him. 

“What’s that face for?” he asked.

You rolled your eyes and sat up, the blanket that had been covering you slipped down exposing your naked chest which Rafayel took no precautions in hiding his ogling. You grabbed his chin and forced his gaze back up to your face. “Do not start calling you tricking me into coming over as work. You know I thought you were in actual danger?”

He melted into your touch, resting his chin fully in your hand like an attention starved puppy. “I was in danger.”

“A teeny tiny spider is not dangerous.” You let him go, crossing your arms over your chest so his view was obstructed.

“Sure it is. Do you know how many tiny spiders are super venomous? Black widow. Brown recluse. Yellow sac spider.” he ticked them off one by one on his fingers.

“Mister fish facts has spider facts too. How fun.” You rolled out of bed and started grabbing your scattered clothes from the floor and pulling them back on. How the hell did your panties get on the lamp? Did he chuck them like he was pitching for the Linkon Lions?

“Do you have to leave?” Rafayel asked, sitting up to watch you move around the room.

“Sure I do. I have work in the morning.”

“I could take you to work in the morning.”

“And wear what? The clothes I was in when I rushed over here? No thanks.” You didn’t think Jenna would be happy to see you at work wearing your lilac sweats and fuzzy character socks.

“I could send someone to pick up an outfit from your house.”

You glanced at him as you pulled your shirt back on. “You are super clingy tonight. Something wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong it’s just…” he was staring down at the rumpled sheets of the bed, smoothing out the creases around him, “you always leave so soon after.”

“Well unlike a certain artist, I have duties and errands to run and can’t spend all my day in bed or on the couch…or in the hot tub…or against the wall--”

“Yeah yeah, I get it. You have a million things more important than me.” he slumped back against the headboard. “I’ll just stay here and rot won’t I. Waiting for my bodyguard to come check on me when she feels like it. Who knows if I’ll be even still be alive when she deigns me worthy of her attention.”

“You are so dramatic. Remember that you tricked me into coming over here to squish a spider and then corralled me into the bedroom almost immediately after.” you plonked down on the bed next to him. “If you want me to come over cause you want to have sex then you can just say that. We’re both adults.”

“Takes all the romance out of it then.”

“Now you’re worried about being romantic?” you shook your head. “Will wonders never cease.”

His expression did not soften out of his pout. With a small sigh you scooted closer. “Hey, how about I stop by tomorrow to see you after work. Okay?”

He perked up at that. “Promise?”

“Yeah. I’ll buy us some chicken and we can put on a movie that we will probably abandon watching for some other fun.” You held out a pinky to him. “I promise.”

He looped his pinky finger around yours. “You made a vow. You can’t break it now.”

“You are racking up vows, aren’t you? First to never keep you waiting, now this. If this keeps up we’re gonna have to start writing down all the promises we make.” you teased and his face fell again. Oh no.

You gave a little tug on your intertwined fingers and pulled him closer, placing a quick kiss on his mouth. “There. A vow sealed with a kiss. Feel better?”

“Much.” he smiled softly at you. “See you tomorrow, cutie.”

~~~

The work day was a long and tedious one. You had spent nearly all day patrolling and ended up fighting a whole horde of Wanderers that had taken up in an abandoned warehouse. By the end of the day you were in desperate need of some relaxation and perhaps a stiff drink. So when Tara announced that everyone was going out for drinks after work to celebrate the impressive job you and the other hunters did on raiding the warehouse you were more than happy to come along.

You were two drinks deep and starting on a third. The stress of the day melted away, replaced with the warm fuzziness that was your buzz. Thank goodness it was the weekend so you didn’t need to worry about getting up early with the hangover you were working towards developing.

At some point a drinking game got started. There was a piece of paper that had every body’s name written on it. The point of the game was that if some flipped a coin and it landed on that person’s name they had to drink. If it landed on a blank space they got to write a rule until the paper was completely full.

Soon the paper was full of outlandish rules, each getting progressively more “creative” the longer you went on. It was your turn and you flipped the coin. You had been aiming for Nero’s name and ended up hitting the rule an inch below it. “Text the last person you messaged a bad selfie.”

You sighed but pulled out your phone and brought up the camera. You twisted your face into a funny and unflattering expression and went to your messages. You couldn’t remember the last person you texted and prayed it wasn’t someone embarrassing.

Please don’t be Zayne. Please don’t be Zayne. Please don’t be Zayne!

You let out a small breath of relief seeing that Zayne was not in fact at the top of your messages. Rafayel was. You opened the chat and sent the picture without any context.

You rolled your eyes at your co-worker’s laughter and resumed watching the others play the game. Yet, you could not focus entirely. It felt like you were forgetting something but you couldn’t remember what. Trying to think with your head awash in cocktails wasn’t exactly helping your memory. All your brain was coming up with was chickens.

Well, if you couldn’t remember it couldn’t have been that important.

You leaned over towards the person next to you, he was another hunter but you hadn’t spoken all that much since he wasn’t on Alpha Team. You weren’t sure of his name but maybe it was Jasper or Jordan. To be blunt there wasn’t anything remarkable about him but he did have a very nice face and a rather infectious laugh. His arm had been resting against the back of your chair but now settled on your shoulders.

“So,” you leaned closer to be heard over the music of the bar, “if you are a hunter I’m guessing you have a preference on which weapon you like using.”

“I do.” he said. “Do you want to know?”

“No. I’m gonna guess but first I need your hand.” you held your hand out for him.

“Okay.” he said with an easy smile and held his hand up. “Why?”

“Think of it as palm reading, but instead of telling your future I’m telling your preferred weapon.” you placed your palm against his. “Hmm, yes.” You nodded very seriously before linking your hands together. “It’s coming to me. With big strong hands like this, your preferred weapon is a claymore.”

He smirked at your flirting. “That is quite the talent you have. I do indeed prefer the claymore. After handling it for so long, throwing anything around whether it be light or heavy is a piece of cake.”

“I bet that comes in handy.”

“It sure does.” he tugged you closer. “It comes in very handy for many different…scenarios.”

You couldn’t tell if the heat in your face was from the drink or his implication but either way it made you feel tingly all over.

“So, what are you doing after this?” Jacob or Jasper asked, his face a mere breath away from yours.

You were yanked back so hard you almost tipped out of your chair completely. You scrambled to see who had grabbed you and saw Rafayel standing above you, a fistful of the back of your shirt in his hand. “You broke your promise.”

~~~

Rafayel had felt something was wrong when his alarm went off that told him your shift had ended and he didn’t hear anything from you. Then a half hour had passed and there had still been no word from you. Maybe you had gone home to change. He tried texting you but had gotten no response. Your battery was low, surely. That’s why you hadn’t texted back.

After an hour he had started pacing, more excuses for your absence filtering through his brain. You could have been picking up the chicken like you said and there was a long line. That had to be it.

Two hours went by. Was there traffic?

Three hours. Maybe there was a Wanderer attack. Were you okay?

He was about ready to go out looking for you when a message came through his phone. It was from you! He opened it expecting any number of excuses and apologies but instead it was just a picture. You were at some bar and were making a very stupid face at the camera. That wasn’t what had caught his attention though. It was the arm that was wrapped around you oh so casually. The pig it was attached to was leering at you in the top left corner of the shot.

Rafayel felt many emotions shoot through him in the span of five seconds of seeing your message. Relief. Confusion. Dejection. Anger. Then pure hot resentment.

You had broken your promise to him to go out to a bar with this scumbag that touched you so casually? No. This would not stand. He was going to go get you. He had to study the picture a bit more to figure out which bar you were at. Thankfully there was a cocktail napkin printed with the bar name on it within the shot.

He sped over as fast as he could and burst into the bar. His gaze swept over the bustling room until he saw a large group sitting near the back. You were among them and that pig from the picture was right next to you, his hand laced with yours and hunger in his eyes. He waited to see you pull away, to tell him to fuck off but you didn’t. You leaned in closer, batting your eyelashes and smiling at him in that way that teasing smirk that drew Rafayel crazy. That was meant for him! Why were you flirting with someone else! Why!

He had charged forward as your faces drew closer. No. He would not see you kiss someone else! He would not suffer that indignity tonight as well!

He grabbed the back of our shirt and pulled you swiftly away from the man. The thundering of his heart was pounding in his ears. “You broke your promise.” he seethed.

You blinked and he could see your brain trying to catch up. “Raf--what are--why are you here? Let go of me!”

“Not a chance.” he grabbed you underneath the armpits and pulled you out of your chair. “You have had enough to drink. We are going home.”

“Hey!” the pig stood up. “Who do you think you are? You can’t just take her.”

“She’s my girlfriend and she’s wasted, so I think I am more than justified in getting her out of this dive.” Rafayel started to drag you away. “Come on.”

He dragged you out to the car despite your protests and shoved you into the passenger seat and buckled your seatbelt for you. Once you were in the car a lot of the fight went out of you. He shoved a water bottle at you and told you to drink as much as you could. When you didn’t oblige he stayed glaring at you until you had swallowed the whole thing. Then he pulled out another and told you to keep drinking. “I need you sober. So keep hydrating.”

By the time Rafayel had gotten back to his house you had drank another full bottle of water and the glassy sheen of drunkenness was ebbing away. The anger and pain his chest was still boiling but he kept his mouth clamped shut until you were inside.

For what felt like forever you stood in the foyer, looking everywhere but at him and not saying a word. When you dared to meet his gaze again he noticed you flinch as guilt shot through you. “Raf, I’m sorry. I had a really stressful day at work and I completely forgot about our chicken and movie plans. I swear I will make it up to you tomorrow--”

“Who the fuck was he?” Rafayel cut you off.

You paused your stammering and stared at him, brows knit in confusion. “What? Who?”

“That pig that was hanging off of you at the bar. Who is he?” he demanded.

“What does that have to do--”

“Answer the question!”

You snapped to attention, shock and indignation sharpening your features. “You do not talk to me like that! I know you’re pissed that I forgot our plans but you do not yell at me like that. What the hell is wrong with you?”

“What’s wrong with me?” Rafayel felt like laughing. Laugh like he was mad. “I want to know why you were flirting with someone else. Did you even realize that he was two seconds from kissing you?”

“Uh yeah? That was kinda the whole point of us flirting. Why are you getting so worked up about this?” you settled your hands on your hips. “Do you know what everyone is going to think now that you announced to all my co-workers that you are my boyfriend? No one is gonna want to get anywhere near me now. Thanks for that.”

“Is that what you want? To be with other people?”

“Wait. I’m confused. When did we ever establish that we were exclusive? I thought this was casual. Why are you being so possessive all of a sudden?” you asked.

“Because you are mine!” he shouted. He charged forward caging you against the wall. “This is not something casual to me and it shouldn’t be for you either! You are mine and mine alone I will be damned if I see someone else lay hands on what belongs to me.”

“Raf, where is all this coming from all of a sudden? Did you really think that we were in some serious arrangement?”

“You promised.” he repeated, angry tears threatening to spill.

“I know. I know. I promised to come over but I told you that I forgot--”

“No. You promised. You always promise. You keep making promises to me and you keep on breaking them! For eight hundred years you’ve been breaking your promises and I am tired of it! No more! You do not get to break my heart any more!” he seized you by the arms, staring into your eyes, willing something to unlock in your mind.

“Why do you never remember?” he said, his voice quieting. “Why do you keep breaking your promises?”

“What are you talking about? Eight hundred years? I don’t know what it is you are upset about. Did the coral finally get to your head now too?”

“For fuck’s sake.” Rafayel couldn’t take this anymore. He slammed his lips to yours, forcing your lips apart and pushing his tongue into your mouth. He did not yield until your tense body melted into his arms and you started to kiss him back.

He pulled back, breathing heavily. “Eight hundred years.” he muttered. “I know you don’t remember but I am going to make you. I am going to remind you in one way or another that you have always been mine. That you will only ever be mine. If I cannot make your mind remember then I will emblazon it on your body, etch my name into your bones so you never forget again.”

“Rafayel, why--”

“Yes or no?” he said, desperate to claim you but refused to move without your consent. “That’s all I need.”

“Are you going to talk to me about what the fuck is going on in that head of yours?” you snapped, impatience stoking you back into a rage.

Yes. Be angry. Be vengeful. But be mine.

“After.” his hands moved to your hips, pressing your body against his. “Now yes or no?”

You nodded. “Yes.”

His lips were back on yours, pouring all the frustration and desire he had into it. Mine. He thought. Only mine.

You started to slump as your knees buckled and he pulled back, keeping his arms locked around you as you made your way deeper into the studio. There was a fire roiling through his blood and it screamed at him to make you his. He didn’t have the patience to take you to the bedroom and instead tossed you onto the couch when it came into view.

He hovered above you and grabbed a fistful of your hair, pulling your head back to look at him. Your lips were parted and panting slightly, eyes wide with rage and lust and defiance. By the tides he loved it. He loved everything about you. If only you would say the same of him.

He kissed you again until you were breathless. There was still a taste of alcohol on your tongue. It tasted like rum and oranges, the sear and tang of summer overwhelming his senses with every swipe of your tongue against his. He wanted to get drunk off the taste. Wanted nothing else but reminders of you. Your taste, your scent, your warmth.

He left your swollen lips to trail his mouth down your neck, sucking dark bruises onto the sensitive flesh. A gasp left your mouth as his teeth sunk down above your pulse. You had always been so adamant about not leaving marks where other people could see them. Well no more. Everyone would know you were spoken for. No one would be able to question who you belonged to ever again. You included.

His free hand fumbled for the buttons of your shirt before impatience took over and he ripped it open instead. Buttons popped from their seams and flew off in different directions as your body was finally exposed to him.

“Hey! This is a work shirt!” you huffed, picking at one of the buttons that still held onto the shirt by a stretched thread.

“I’ll buy you another.” he slid the ruined shirt off and continued the descent of his mouth down your chest. “If you don’t want the rest of your clothes to meet the same fate, I’d advise in taking them off quickly.”

“Raf--”

“You have ten seconds. Be quick.” he stood up and started counting down.

It took you a moment to catch on that he was not indeed joking and to spare your clothes from decimation you quickly untied and tugged off your boots and were trying your best to shimmy out of your pants. Rafayel also began to shrug out of clothes, not as panicked as you were as he kicked off his shoes and pulled his shirt off over his head. By the time he got to zero you had just managed to kick your pants off and were reaching for the clasp of your bra.

“Too slow.” he pinned you back against the couch his knee slotting in the spaced between your legs, pressing close to your clothed cunt. You tried to stifle it but he heard the low whine of arousal that hummed in your throat. He pressed knee closer, letting you grind on it. He could feel wet you were getting. The evidence of your arousal soaking through your panties and wetting his pants.

He reached around behind your back and undid the clasp that held your bra in place and tore it off. You were lost in your own little world, grinding against his leg like an animal in heat. Your sweet moans filled the air as his hands cupped your breasts an tweaked your nipples into hard peaks. So sweet. So beautiful. And all of it his. At least, it should have been. The idea that someone out there possibly had seen this version of you, had driven you into this state made his blood boil. Who else had you been with when you weren’t with him? Had you ever left him and gone off to be with someone else? Did you moan for them like you did for him? Did you speak such filthy and beautiful words in their ears like you did with him? How many others had been tasting your lips after him?

“How long?” he asked, eyes trained on your face.

Your eyes which had been closed in ecstasy cracked open again. “What?” you breathed out.

“How long have you been flirting with others?” he said and your eyes widened. “Answer me.”

“I thought you said we were going to talk about this after.” you said. “Why--ah!” he gave a sharp squeeze to your breast.

“Answer the question.”

“I--I don’t know.” your hips kept moving, kept pushing yourself closer to the sweet release your body craved. You were getting close, he could tell.

“Yes you do. Now answer. Have you been flirting with others the entire time we’ve been together?”

“Raf--”

He pulled back, leaving you cold and panting against the couch, your precious orgasm right out of reach. “Answer or this ends now.”

“Yes.” you answered, your voice quiet. “I guess you could say it was happening the entire time, even before we met.”

Icy dread so cold it felt like burning coursed through him. He pushed you down so you were sprawled across the cushions of the couch. His hand pushed against the soaked materials of your panties, teasing your clit through the cotton.

“And how many touched you like this, hm?” he rubbed your clit harder. “How many of them did you fuck?”

“None of them. I promise. I didn’t sleep with anyone else.” That was a small relief. Your body had remained his, but what of your heart?

He pushed the material aside and plunged two fingers into your weeping hole. “And why not?” he continued, stretching your walls and curling his fingers in the way he knew drove you mad with want. “You had no problem flirting with them. Letting them touch you, letting them kiss you. Why not give your body over completely? Is that where your conscience kicked in? Remembered you already had someone when things got that far, did you?”

“Didn’t--didn’t--” you were struggling to form words, “Didn’t like them that much.”

“So if you liked them more you’d let them touch you like this?” his thumb pressed against your swollen clit, adding to the sensations you were already feeling. “You’d let them put their fingers in you, touch your most sensitive spots, let them taste how sweet your arousal is? All it would take is a few more sweet words and you’d let them fuck you. Drive their dick into you like they own it, own you. Is that what you’re saying.”

“No. No--fuck! Raf, I never wanted to fuck any of them.” your words kept wavering as he kept you dancing just out of reach of release. “I promise.”

There was that word again. Promise.

“Your promises mean nothing anymore. You’ve proven that.” his pace got faster and your legs squirmed and kicked as your orgasm raced forward with frightening speed. “Why should I believe you this time?”

It was as if his words had ignited something hot in you The wanton need and delirium of pleasure snapped and you surged up as your pussy clamped down hard on his fingers, arousal gushing from your hole as you came. You had grabbed him by the shoulders and forced your mouth against his, kissing him hungrily. You kept pushing, forcing him down against the couch, trapping him under you just as he had done.

You pulled away, tugging on his bottom lip with your teeth as you withdrew. The momentary bliss was gone when he saw the rage written across your face. You sat straddled across him, chest heaving in the aftermath of your orgasm. You hastily unbuckled his belt and were shoving his pants further down his hips so his cock was free from their confines. “Now listen here and listen well you prima donna!” you growled, teasing the wet tip of his cock in your hand. “You are going to believe me when I say this: I never wanted to fuck any of the people I flirted with. That’s all it ever was, flirting. If you wanted us to be something more serious you should have fucking said so sooner!”

His nostrils flared as you worked over the hard flesh of his erection. He tried to grab you but you smacked his hands away. “You do not get to be angry at me for treating what we have as something casual cause that is all you have ever treated it as too.”

“It was never casual for me!” he snapped back. You gave a hard squeeze and his head fell back. “Fuck--that’s not fair.”

“Neither were your methods.” you reminded him. “Now, you said you wanted to etch your name onto my bones so I never forgot you. Well that is a two way street, you know. If you want to sear yourself into my memory then I get to do the same to you.”

“Trust me,” he said, eyes dark with desire, “You already are.”

You sat back, angling yourself as you lowered yourself onto him. You watched his gaze slide from your face down to where you were connected, watching his cock sink in and out of you. You rode him hard, pulling up till only the tip remained inside before slamming back down on him again. He steadied you by holding your thighs, pushing them wider when he wanted you to sink down deeper on him.

It didn’t matter how many times you had sex. Every time he had you like this it felt like he was in some amazing dream he did not want to wake up from. But you were no dream. You were real. So breathtakingly and heartbreakingly real. And you were with him, wanting him, riding him, eyes begging him and only him for pleasure and release no one else could come close to giving you.

His hips moved to thrust up into you, needing more. Needing to mark you in a way that you never forgot in this life or the next or the one another eight hundred years from now.

Your thrusts got shallower and faster as he hit some wonderful spot in your pussy that had you seeing stars. Your legs were shaking and started to lose their rhythm. Your body collapsed forward, laying on top of him. He kept hold of your ass, forcing your hips to keep moving as you moaned and panted, nails scratching down his chest.

“Fuck! Oh fuck! Raf! Raf!” you started squirming again, release so close you could taste it. At least, that’s what he figured with your tongue hanging out of your mouth. He craned his neck to taste it, pull your mouth onto his and made you swallow his own moans.

Your pussy was so hot and wet and it was squeezing the life out of him. He never wanted to leave. He wanted to mount the pair of you on a pedestal in this embrace, immortalized in shining marble. Scholars and lovers would come from all over the galaxy to study the love and lust your coupling represented. Women would desire to be you and men would envy him for having claimed something so perfect as his own. But none would know just how good you were. How your lips felt pressed against their own, what your arousal tasted like, or what little things turned you into a screaming moaning mess. This was all his to know and no one else.

“Let go.” he murmured against your lips, “I know you want to come. Go ahead, let go and come for me. Oh fuck please! Be a good girl and come all over me. Please!” he stressed. He felt himself about to blow but he’d be damned if he left you behind.

“Raf! Raf! Fuck Raf! Want to! Want to come!” Tears were leaking out of your eyes. “Want to be yours. Want to--want to--fuck! Make me! Make me yours!”

“Yes. Be mine! Be mine! Be only mine!” He crushed your mouth back against his. He wedged one hand between you and found your swollen and neglected clit, rubbing it gracelessly to give you that final little push you needed.

“Ah!” your voice pitched an octave.

“Keep your eyes open.” he gritted through clenched teeth. “Look at me when you come. Look at me!”

You forced your eyes open despite the pleasure wracking your body telling you to close them. “Raf…ay…el…” his name was but a struggled whisper before your cunt clamped down around him and the tremors of your body seized as you were thrown into your orgasm.

Rafayel followed shortly behind, his eyes never leaving yours as the tides of pleasure washed in and out and away. The shaking of your body stilled and you stayed flush against him, chests heaving and hearts hammering as the adrenaline wore off.

After several long minutes of silence you spoke again in a quiet voice, devoid of any malice. “Rafayel?”

He almost wished you hadn’t said anything. He didn’t want to ruin this peaceful moment. But you probably had questions. “What is it?”

“You said it was never casual for you.” you traced patterns across his chest. “What did you mean?”

“Exactly what I said.” he tilted your chin up to look at him. “After eight hundred years of waiting I finally have you back and you think I was going to want anything less than all of you?”

“Again with this eight hundred years thing.” you pinched the bridge of your nose. “I get that you’re older than you look but I am not eight hundred years old, Rafayel. If you are projecting some lost love onto me--”

“It’s not projection. It is you. It has only ever been and only ever will be you.” he could see the war in your eyes, trying to reconcile what he was saying.

He grabbed your hand and placed it on his chest, over his heart. “We promised. I know you don’t remember but I do. We made a vow and you cannot break it. We are bonded, always have been, always will be.”

“Do…” you took a shaky breath, “Do you love me?”

“It is a tragedy you even have to ask.” he cupped your cheek. “But yes, I do. And I will do anything to make sure you stay mine.”

“Well,” you cleared your throat, snuggling against him further. “I think you definitely staked your claim. But even if I am this same person from eight hundred years ago, what makes you think me and her are in any way the same? Do you want me to be more like her or something? Just how far is this going to go?”

“I never want you to be anything less than who you are. You don’t have to be her because there is no her to be. I just want you in whatever way you come.” he pressed a soft kiss to your forehead. “Okay?”

“Okay.” you smiled. “And I promise, really actually promise, that I will not flirt with anyone that is not you.”

“Because you love me?” he teased with a dopey smile.

You rolled your eyes. “Yeah. Because I love you.”

-----------

A/N: Hi, so this was my first foray into fanfic for this particular fandom. As it is I'm still fairly new so a lot of my characterization is based off of limited knowledge and vibes. That being said I hope you liked it and if you have other prompts for me whether they be angsty, spicy, or fluffy I'd be glad to have a crack at them. Love ya!

[hees-mine]

𝐏𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 - 𝐥.𝐡𝐬

Pairing: heeseung ⚥ reader

Synopsis: After just spending a few days away from you, heeseung knows he can’t go much longer without needing to be with you every single waking moment of his life. He knows your relationship is considered wrong, but no one had to know, and he knew the perfect way to have you all to himself without any interferences.

Warnings: smut, unprotected sex, stepbrother, stepcest, cursing, dirty talk, fluff.

If you're uncomfortable with step relationships, this is not for you, so please kindly click off. Also they are both consenting adults. This is a work of fiction.

Genre: 18+, smut, taboo relationship, minors do not interact!

WC: 2,934k

PART ONE PART TWO PART THREE PART FOUR PART FIVE PART SIX PART SEVEN

Heeseung woke up early in the morning to leave your room, but when he saw you sleeping so peacefully, he couldn’t find it in him to leave your bed.

He smiled at you, stroking some hairs away from your face so he could see your beautiful face while you slept soundly. He traced his thumb over your cheek softly. “My princess,” he whispers and kisses your forehead lovingly.

His feelings for you were growing more and more by the day. There was only so much longer he could sneak around with you. He needed to be with you every second of the day, not just at night before bed.

He thinks of ways that he could have you all to himself, and an idea pops into his head what if you two just moved together? It’s not like you both weren’t old enough. What if he just used all his savings and got a little place for just the two of you? That way, you’d never have to sneak around ever again, and you could have playtime when and wherever.

Just the idea makes him excited, and he places little kisses all over your face to wake you up and tell you about his genius idea. “Morning bubs,” you whisper and slowly open your eyes, giggling softly when you feel him pressing soft kisses all over your neck and chest.

“Morning, sissy,” he hums against your neck and wraps his arms around you, pulling you closer to his naked chest. “Did you sleep well?”

“Yes, Bubba.” he smiles at your barely awake state and boops your precious nose.

“Princess, I was thinking of something,” he says after a minute or two. “And you can say no,” he gulps nervously before telling you about his idea.

“Hmm? What is it, big Bubba?” You stroke his chest softly and place a tiny kiss on his jawline, making him feel less nervous. His eyes flutter closed before he meets your worried gaze.

“I just…. I was thinking, what if we moved?” he pauses for a quick second before speaking again. “Like just the two of us, and that way, we can be together all the time.” he tucks your loose hair behind your ear, a feeling of anxiety bubbling in his stomach at the thought of you saying no to him.

“But Bubba, we’re together most of the time,” you say to him, completely confused about his sudden request.

He sighs and props himself up on his elbow, taking your small hand in his and holding it to his mouth to kiss it gently. “I know, but I mean all the time. If we move, we can play all the time, not just at night.” he strokes the back of your hand softly.

Your eyes gleam at the thought, and you already feel excited about spending even more time with him. “But why can’t we do it here?”

You’re so cute, he thinks to himself while he smiles softly. “Because princess, some people won’t approve of our relationship, our parents especially, so we can’t do it here 'cause it’s best if they don’t know about it,” he explains calmly.

“But Bubba, why?” He cups your cheek in his palm.

“Cause some may say we’re too close just to be siblings.” you nod your head, understanding what he’s saying sort of.

“But we’re not really siblings,” you say, slowly tilting your head to the side.

“I know,” he whispers. “But things are a little different for others, so that’s why I think it’s best for us to keep it a secret and just move on our own.”

“Okay! Bubba,” he feels his heart melt, a never-ending smile finding his lips as you engulf him in a hug like he’s your big teddy bear. “But we can still visit, right?”

“Of course!”

-

“Are you sure you’re ready for this son? You’re both so young.” you were all currently in the living room talking things over. heeseung had proposed the idea to your parents after talking things over with you.

“Hmm,” he nods. “I think it’ll be good, sissy thinks so, too” he smiles at you softly, and you nearly get lost in his dreamy eyes.

“He’s right. They aren’t exactly babies anymore, honey,” your mom says, seemingly approving of the idea. “Plus, she has her big brother. They’re like two peas in a pod. We have nothing to worry about,” she nudges her husband discreetly and whispers. “Plus, we can have more alone time.”

“Oh,” he smiles softly at her, taking her hand in his. “Dear, I suppose you’re right.” at the end of it all, you come to an agreement with the promise of that if anything happens, you’ll both move back in with your parents and of course, heeseung agrees even though he didn’t see anything wrong ever happening how could it when he finally had his princess all to himself?

-

It’s been a while since your guys talk, and today was officially moving day.

“Gonna be just you and me, princess.” heeseung lifted you up off your feet, spinning you around as you squealed in excitement. “Are you excited?” He smiles brightly at you.

“Yes, Bubba,” you say happily as you kick your feet in the air.

“Me too.” he quickly pecks your lips before setting you down so you can both finish packing.

When everything was concluded, your parents helped you both with your bags. “Call us when you arrive,” your mom says.

“I will!” You reply with a smile.

“And drive safe.” now it’s your dad's turn to chime in.

“I will, I promise.” heeseung smiles and puts a protective arm around you, making you feel warm and fuzzy inside.

“Come over on the holidays.”

“And call us every day.”

“Be good to each other.”

You both just chuckled at your parent's endless worrying before leaving the house and driving to the new place.

Finally, heeseung thinks as he holds your hand all the way there.

Now it was gonna be just you and him all the time, no distraction, no interruption, just the two of you alone sharing your endless love for each other without having to worry about any judgment from the outside world.

When you arrive, heeseung does all the unpacking so his princess doesn’t have to do any of the work, of course.

Box after box, and hours later, he was finally done setting everything up.

When he finished, you both ordered out, too exhausted from moving to cook. As you both ate dinner, you talked and went on and on about all the things you both wanted to do together in the new apartment, and you could easily see this becoming a daily routine for you as long as Big Bubba was with you you didn’t have a worry in the world.

After dinner, you cuddled on the couch that your parents had the movers bring in, and before you knew it, it was already midnight, and heeseung thinks time really does fly when you’re having fun. “Wanna get ready for bed?” Heeseung whispers softly, stroking your shoulder while back-hugging you on the sofa.

You hum in agreement, the both of you getting up and walking to the bedroom to call it a night for the first time at the new apartment.

As heeseung was collecting yours and his clothes, you stood there playing with your fingers near the corner of your room. “Something wrong, princess,” heeseung asks you, and you just shake your head back and forth.

He looks at you worriedly, thinking maybe you were having second thoughts about moving in with him, that is, until he sees you discreetly rubbing your legs together, and then it clicked with him he knew exactly what you wanted, and he can’t say he wasn’t waiting for this moment himself.

“Wanna play with big bubs” you mutter shyly.

“Princess, now that we’re all alone, you can call me whatever you like,” he encircles your waist, hugging you close to his body. “And from now on, whenever you’re feeling like this, just tell me you wanna have sex, okay?”

“Sex?” You tilt your head slightly. He always found you adorable when you did that.

“Yep,” he nods his head, and he kinda wants to scold his parents for keeping you so sheltered. You were far too innocent for your own good. That’s the only reason he started calling you sissy and having you call him Bubba in the first place because those were the only endearing names that your parents wouldn’t find suspicious, not to mention he couldn’t tell you it was called sex cause if that ever got out he’s sure his parents would have beat him black and blue if they knew he was having sex with their daughter and his “sister.”

“Okay,” you whisper and put your hands on his chest while he smiles down at you.

“So princess, what’s it gonna be?” He touches your forehead with his eager to hear what you want his new nickname to be.

“B-baby,” you stutter shyly. You always wanted to call him that when you heard your friends call their boyfriends like that, but you were far too embarrassed to tell him.

“You’re so cute.” he nudges his nose with yours, giving you a kiss on the cheek, which makes you duck your head down in his chest and hide from him. “Lay down on our bed, princess,” he tells you softly, heart thumping in his chest as he looks at you. You’re so beautiful, and you’re all just his, no one else’s.

His stare makes you feel shy, and even though it’s embarrassing for you to make eye contact with him, you just can’t pull your eyes away from his.

He slowly lifts his shirt up, pulling it over his head and tossing it on the ground. “Baby,” you say breathlessly as you watch him getting undressed.

He tries to play it cool when he hears you call him that for the first time in bed, but he can’t help the wide smile that covers his entire face as he rids himself of his jeans. “Call me that again,” he laughs while hovering above you on the bed, smiling at your flustered face.

“Baby,” you mutter, and he feels like he’s gonna have a heart attack.

Pecking your lips, he grins and leans back to grab the hem of your shirt and lift it over your head, revealing your bra-clad chest. “You’re so beautiful,” he says, and you can hear the love oozing in his voice.

“Thank you,” he bites on his lip, lowering his hands to your shorts and underwear, slipping them off your delicate frame.

“Of course, my princess” his eyebrows crease slightly as he gulps from the sight of your sticky cunt loving just how wet you get for him every single time you both make love.

Kicking off your bottoms, you instinctively sit up and unclip your bra, showing him your full breasts and hardened nipples. Once you toss your bra aside, you reach for the waist of his boxers, tugging them down as many times as you’ve done playtime with him. You know what to do next.

A gasp leaves your lips when you reveal his hard leaky cock, and the sight alone makes you whimper. You needed to feel him inside of you as soon as possible.

He leans over you, lowering himself to place a few wet kisses on your chest as he takes his boxers off the rest of the way and discards them on the floor.

He captures your tender lips in a hungry kiss, moaning into your mouth as he feels your hot tongue searing against his he rolls his hips dragging his length along your pussy, whimpering when his tip comes in contact with your entrance.

“Baby,” you breathe into his mouth, utterly breathless from how his mouth feels against yours.

“Mmm, I’m right here.” he guides your legs around his waist and then cups your hands together, holding them beside your head as he continually ruts against your dripping core.

“Want your cock inside” he groans into your mouth, kissing you more feverishly from your request.

He’s hesitant cause he hasn’t even prepped you yet, and though you’re literally dripping all over his dick and the bedsheets, the last thing he wants to end up doing is hurting his princess. “Yeah?” He whispers against your lips softly as you give him the slightest nod. “Okay, princess, gonna go nice and slow.” he kissed your forehead, angling his hips back until his tip was at your hole and very slowly pushing his tip in. “Fuck” he whimpers as soon as he feels you around him.

Mewling at the intrusion, you arch your back involuntarily, which causes him to go even deeper, making you cry out in pleasure. “Mmh baby,” you squeeze his hand's chest, rising and falling with each uneven breath you take as you feel his heart pounding against yours.

“Does it feel good, princess?” He asks as he buries his face in the side of your neck, licking and sucking on every inch that he could reach.

“Yes,” you sigh in pleasure, eyes rolling back in your head. “So big, so warm.” he takes that as his cue to fully penetrate you till he’s sheathed within your heat and every stroke feels better than the last you’re just so warm and wet that it makes his head spin.

“You’re making me feel so good, princess” his words sound like one drawn-out moan, barely coherent as he picks up his pace drilling your sweet spot over and over as his abdomen rubs on your throbbing clit. “Love you so much,” he whines in your ear, panting helplessly as he pumps your pussy till you’re shaking beneath him.

“Ah,” you attempted to respond but moaned instead cause he felt so deep and full inside you. “L-love you too,” he moans at your confession. It’s not like he hasn’t heard you say it before, but right now, it feels so much more intimate and intense than all the previous times.

“Wanna spend the rest of my life with you.” The sounds he made were ones that you’d never even heard before, and it made everything feel so much better. “Fill you up so you can give us a little family.” he’s not sure why the words are coming out of his mouth so easily, but it’s true he wants nothing more than to be with you for the rest of his life. “Want that princess? Want me to cum in you?” Placing a hand between your bodies, he rubs your clit the tight clench you give him makes him choke out a moan, eyes falling shut with the pleasure you give to him and only him.

“Yes baby, cum ins-side me, please” The warm feeling you’d become accustomed to spread throughout your lower body no matter how many times you felt it. It always took your breath away every single time. You just could never get enough of feeling his cock so deep in you.

“Kiss,” he breathes out, brain fuzzy and completely drained of everything but you.

Moaning into your mouth, he matches the pace of his thrusts with the quick circles he draws on your clit, and within no time, you’re both parting from the kiss, unfiltered moans escaping as you both get lost in the pleasure of your orgasms not worrying about how loud you’re both being as your fluids mix with each other.

You squeeze around him so tight that he’s almost forced to empty his balls deep in you as you clench and unclench around his thick cock milking him for all he’s worth and then some as you feel your insides hot and sticky with his cum he whimpers and whines incoherent sentences from how tight you feel your pussy was making him go completely dumb he was drunk off your silky cunt encasing his girth perfectly.

The feeling goes on and on, seemingly never-ending, while you both exchange sloppy wet kisses and for a moment, you feel like you’re going to pass out from the pleasure. Your brows crease together at the hot tingling sensation all over your body, and he feels it too, the warmth expanding in his abdomen as wet, slippery sounds fill up your guys' shared bedroom, followed by loud moans and deep grunts as he fills you up again with his thick seed coming back to back in record time.

Your other hand grips his bicep body, violently shaking as you feel another earth-shattering wave of euphoria enrapture you. “Love you, my princess,” he pants while kissing you, saliva spilling past both your swollen lips as you confessed to each other for the uncountable time tonight.

“I love you too, baby,” you moan softly while he slowly caresses your sensitive bud. He brings you down from your high, gently rolling his hips as his second orgasm turns into faint little throbs until his body finally calms down along with yours.

Once your heartbeats regulate, he pulls away from the kiss first, resting his forehead against yours with an exhausted chuckle, eyes full of nothing but fondness for you.

He cradles your cheek in his palm, and you quickly mimic his actions as he leans into your soft, loving touch.

As you look into his eyes, you can’t help but get lost in them, and you couldn’t wait to spend every waking moment of your life with him.

This was just the beginning of your guy's love story and the end of playtime.

Thanks for reading please reblog and leave feedback.

I’m tearing up 🥲 y’all it’s over this is the end 😞 I’m sad.

[archivalofsins]

Be the change you want to see. By that, I mean start treating these character deaths like the prisoners' victims have been treated all series. Start asking what they did to deserve this. Start accusing them of attacking someone else first and deserving it. Throw some cheating allegations in there.

Just start going wild with it.

It's been like that with every other death mentioned so far. Why not again here?

How did this happen? Well, you see, Mahiru went to talk to Shidou and he saw her walking then realized the poison just wasn't working. She just kept living regardless of how and thriving despite the doses. This was taking too long why wouldn't she just,

"You're in my way... hurry up and die."

Who knows. The writing was on the wall everyone had read it but her.

22/01/17 (Mahiru’s Birthday)

Mahiru: My birthday…… the day I was born…… But was there really any reason for me being born? Lately I’ve started to wonder that. Do you ever think about stuff like that, Yuno-chan?

Yuno: Eh? Not really. I mean, Mahiru-san, you’re really the romantic type, right? Not that I have anything against that. But isn’t it a bit much to think that everything in life has a meaning? If it makes you happy to think like that then go ahead, but if it doesn’t, then isn’t that in itself meaningless?

Mahiru: : ……you might be right. I’ve always just lived my life like this, so I don’t really know.

Yuno: We’ve all just gone through a bunch of things in life that happened to lead us here. It’s nothing more than a coincidence. Definitely not fate or anything. Probably. Even if there isn’t a meaning, you can still be happy that it’s your birthday. That sort of thing’s all you need in life really. So happy birthday, Mahiru-san.

The first allusion to the attacks occuring was on Haruka's birthday in 2022. After that the first allusion to Shidou treating the injured was on Amane's birthday of the same year,

22/06/27 (Amane’s Birthday)

Kazui: What’s up, Shidou-kun? You’re looking pretty down. I guess you must be tired, I’ve been relying on you a lot lately.

Shidou: Yeah, I just remembered…… today is Amane’s birthday. I’m just getting a bit sentimental.

Kazui: Hmm, it’s unfortunate, but at the moment we can’t worry about that. ……you understand, right? There’s something that you need to do right now. And if you tried talking to her your words definitely won’t reach her. Don’t look at me like that. We’ll just wait until the situation changes. Let’s do our best.

Shidou: Yeah. I’ll do what I can. I can’t have a child making a face like that. Even though we’re “murderers”…… we’re also the adults here.

Three months later we saw her again on Yuno's birthday. She stated that she was having difficulties moving but if she didn't move too much she doesn't even feel pain.

22/09/02 (Yuno’s Birthday)

Mahiru: ……no, I’m fine. As long as I don’t move too much I don’t even feel any pain. Sorry for making you worry.

Yuno: Oh, really? That’s good then. Mahiru-san, if there’s anything you want then just ask. It’s not like it’s a huge burden, I can just ask for it along with my own stuff.

Mahiru: Ok…… I’m fine for now. Sorry, for making you worry.

Ah, Yuno-chan…… Today’s your birthday, right? Happy birthday.

Yuno: ………… Haha, thanks. Thank you, but y’know. Is it really ok for you to be saying that to me when you’re in that situation? ……you really aren’t suited for Milgram, huh, Mahiru-san.

This news seems to have travelled around the prison. Because when Amane approaches her on her birthday the following year she asks her how her body is feelings.

It has now in canon been going on seven months of her being in Shidou's care.

She tells Amane that she fine and she can move around if she uses a wheelchair. This is the only time this wheelchair is mentioned after this Mahiru begins to drastically deteriorate.

23/01/17 (Mahiru’s Birthday)

Amane: Happy birthday. Mahiru-san. How is your body feeling?

Mahiru: ……ah, Amane-chan. Thank you. Yeah, I’m fine. Now I can move around if I use a wheelchair…… It’s all thanks to Shidou-san looking after me……

Amane: I’ll give you one warning. The two of you are dabbling in something tabooed. If you continue to go against the way of nature like this, you’ll just bring an early death upon yourself. Think hard about this.

Mahiru: Amane-chan……? Are you really Amane-chan……?

Eleven months into her being under Shidou's care while requesting questions for the second trial written interrogation Jackalope notes that Shidou and Mahiru have completely entered the roles of patient and doctor.

23/05/15 (Interrogation Start: Shidou and Mahiru)

Jackalope: Prisoner 05, Shidou Prisoner 06, Mahiru. The interrogations for these two will now be held. Just leave your questions in the comments here. Ask whatever you want to know. This is where you show off your skills as a prison guard. ……hmmm. These two have now totally slipped into the roles of doctor and patient huh. It probably isn’t a good time to be getting interrogated for them…… but, well, it’s the rule.

Over the course of her second trial written interrogation Mahiru's handwriting declines rapidly.

Despite being interrogated together with her and being asked the exact same questions. Shidou doesn't offer to help Mahiru with writing her answers even though she is now completely under his care.

As well as the fact that there have been no rules stating that such a thing isn't allowed and that all prisoners must write their own answers.

Such a drastic and consistent decline in writing alludes to something I've been speculating for a while now. That the prisoners are given all their interrogation questions at once and have to fill them all out at the same time.

We know that Mahiru and Shidou were given these questions together because it is the only way she would come to know that he had kids. As he never brought it up in the timeline before she asked.

Note the next conversation occurs sixteen months after Mahiru began being under Shidou's care.

23/10/24 (Shidou’s Birthday)

Mahiru: You have a family right, Shidou-san……? How does it feel, being married, having kids……?

Shidou: ……yeah, it’s a wonderful thing. Children…… yeah. They really are hope for the future. When you have your own, suddenly it becomes fun growing old. Since as you grow older, you get to see them grow up.

Mahiru: Ah…… how lovely. It was always my dream to become a bride. Though maybe that seems a bit out-dated. I wish it could’ve come true……

Shidou: It isn’t too late. I’m going to make sure you live. So let’s get out of here, and you make your wish come true. ……you still have so much to live for.

Then Kazui asks him later if he has kids so this was new information to everyone and the only place she could have seen that information is on the interrogation card he wrote it.

Q.11 Tell us your family structure.

Shidou: My wife and my 2 kids.

So he could have helped her fill these out and just choose not to despite knowing full and well how servere her injuries were. Which we know he knew because he opens his second voice drama listing them in detail.

Even if they were not made to answer all their interrogation questions at once and Mahiru was given a reasonable amount of time to write her answers. Such as being given one card on the daily basis to fill out that would make the decline in handwriting more odd. Since at that point it would allude to her overall health deteriorating on a daily bases to the point that she can't even write like she used to be able to anymore.

All still while being under Shidou's constant care.

On Amane's birthday Yuno states that Mahiru has finally managed to get to sleep. Implying that Mahiru has not only had pain related issues but sleep ones as well.

23/06/27 (Amane’s Birthday)

Amane: What is it…… Kashiki Yuno. Don’t sit so close to me. Go away.

Yuno: Sorry for barging in when you’re getting into your worldview thing. But Mahiru-san’s finally managed to get to sleep. Humour me with some small talk while I take a break. By the way, Amane. Have you ever wished you were never born? I’ve thankfully lived a pretty fun life so far, so haven’t really. But you seem to be struggling with something. So I kinda wondered if you thought like that.

Amane: ……I don’t think that. Being born into this world is the first miracle any person experiences, and is something to celebrate. Even if after birth I was put through trial after trial, the value of that will never disappear.

Yuno: Hmm. Ok. ……happy birthday, then. It’s good that you were brought into the world, I guess.

This conversation takes place twelve months or one year into Mahiru being under Shidou's care.

At this point her condition has not improved at all. She has rapidly gotten worse she's lost all mobility is implied to be bed ridden and for a time from this point forward will only be approached by others. Her state has declined so much under Shidou's care that she now needs two people to take care of her and is stated to need constant attention/vigilance to make sure nothing happens to further exacerbate her condition.

Meanwhile the second party to get injured during the second trial intermission has only gotten better without any of Shidou's care. So much so that he's walking around checking up on other prisoners. So, it's not a matter of not being able to heal in Milgram, but we'll see that in her last interaction.

On Kazui's birthday that same year Shidou laments that due to him putting all his time into taking care of Mahiru he hasn't been able to help Kazui around the prison.

23/08/05 (Kazui’s Birthday)

Kazui: Hey, it’s been a while since we last talked. You’ve been working hard lately. Are you doing ok? Should I give you a shoulder massage?

Shidou: ……no, there’s no need to worry. You’re surely on edge at the moment too, after all, Mukuhara-san. Since I’ve been devoting my time to Shiina-kun, I haven’t had time to help with the rest of the prison. Sorry for leaving everything to you.

Kazui: No, it’s fine. I haven’t done anything really. ……you take on too much responsibility on your own. Make sure you rest a bit too. Oh, that’s right, today’s my birthday. So how about you join me for a smoke? As a present.

Shidou: ……I guess it’s precisely because we’re in this situation that things like that are necessary too. Happy birthday. I’ll join you. Can you lend me a cigarette?

Presumably it's during this birthday smoke break that Shidou tells Kazui that Yuno has been helping him. His first response is to later go up to Yuno on her birthday and ask why she's doing that.

To which she responds with,

"If there’s someone dying in front of you anyone would do what they could to help."

Further cementing that Mahiru has not moved one step away from deaths door in now fifteen months of being under Shidou's care. Spoiler alert she doesn't die any better than she started trial two.

23/09/02 (Yuno’s Birthday)

Kazui: I heard you’ve been helping Shidou-kun out. ……er, sorry if this comes across as rude, but it’s kind of unexpected. It always seemed like you didn’t care that much about other people.

Yuno: Hmm? What’s with that all of a sudden. I mean, you’re right, I don’t care much. But if there’s someone dying in front of you anyone would do what they could to help, right? And anyway, aren’t you the same? You usually don’t care much either, right?

Kazui: ……I wonder. This old man isn’t as much of a thinker as you are. I mean, until now I’ve been in an environment where it’s all about having physical strength. So I’ve never really thought about stuff like that.

Yuno: Haha, we’re the same in that we’re both liars too. I guess the difference is the reasons we lie. You care about yourself, so lie to protect yourself. I don’t care about anyone at all, including myself.

Now we're in 2024, and her condition is still notably bad. Like still really bad, like at a glance, you can tell something is wrong bad. This timeline takes place twenty-four months after Mahiru was placed under Shidou's care.

It has been two full years.

She has the same injuries from two years ago while Futa is walking around just fine. No wonder he's concerned and going,

"As long as treatment continues, huh. …… I wonder how you’re going to be saved."

Because if the treatment hasn't worked so far and they've all been here witnessing the treatment this whole time. Seeing it not work while Mahiru is just here like but Shidou's a doctor, and he says if I do x, y, and z, I'll be better in no time. Don't worry. The treatment will work. Sure, I've been this way for two years, but it'll work. Shidou is a good and honest person, I trust him. Beyond that, just you showing concern for me has saved me already.

Dr.Malpractice off in his cell wondering what the fuck he can keep getting away with today. At a point they had to have gone yeah we gotta kill him. Like at a point they must have started getting a bit suspicious.

None of these people are unobservant.

24/01/17 (Mahiru’s Birthday)

Futa: ……hey. Oi, Mahiru. You’re in pretty bad shape, right……? Isn’t there anything that can be done?

Mahiru: What’s up, Futa-kun? Yeah, I’m not great…… But Shidou-san’s been looking after me…… And he says if we keep going like this, I’ll get much better……

Futa: ……right. As long as treatment continues, huh. …… I wonder how you’re going to be saved.

Mahiru: Saved……? Are you worried about me? …… You’ve been a lot kinder lately, Futa-kun. …… I feel like I’ve been saved just hearing those words from you.

Then we've got the timeline before the end.

In which Yuno tells the audience and Shidou straight-up she does not know what he's getting at by saying she should become a doctor. Because the only thing she's done is follow his lead. Possibly with the expectation he was doing what he claimed he was going to do- Help Mahiru get better.

Yuno isn't a doctor she wouldn't be able to check him on if he was doing something wrong or not. She just knows that Mahiru's condition has just gotten worse and worse. So more help is needed or she may really die. She doesn't even fully understand the treatment Shidou is giving Mahiru saying she's just helping with whatever he's doing.

24/09/02 (Yuno’s Birthday)

Shidou: Thank you for your assistance with Shiina-kun’s treatment.

It’s been a big help having you here. Both for her and for me. It’s good to know that even if something happens to me, you’ll still be around.

Yuno: No way. I can’t do anything on my own. All I’m doing is helping with whatever you’re doing. It’s just like playing pretend as a nurse.

Shidou: No, you’ve got a good sense for things like this. You’re quick to notice things, calm, and fearless. If you haven’t decided what you want to be in the future, maybe you should consider becoming a doctor yourself.

Yuno: You think so? ……haha, stop it. I don’t want to be thinking about the future right now. And for someone like me to have other people’s lives in my hands…… that’s no laughing matter.

Then we get to the nail in the coffin.

Kotoko's birthday,

24/12/15 (Kotoko’s Birthday)

Mahiru: Kotoko-chan… are you there…? I'm so-rry, for calling out to you. It's a bit… hard, for me to move… I'll need, to also give my thanks, to Shidou-san…

Kotoko: Going out of your way to meet with me. You're such an airhead it's not even funny. Well…. Go on then, if you've got something to say I think I'll hear out the reproach of a dying woman.

Mahiru: The re-proach…? Oh, its nothing like that… [All I want to say is] Happy, Birthday.

Kotoko: ………… You're out of your goddamn mind.

Where even Kotoko could see Mahiru was dying.

She never got a step away from dying. Everyone was always so focused on other things. Could come up with a million and one excuses for why Mahiru's health situation wasn't improving. All because some wanted to put all their faith in the doctor because why would a doctor-

Who openly told us that he committed malpractice. That he couldn't stop himself. That he'd do it again because he couldn't stay away and that's why he wanted this all to end do that same thing again? Why would he do exactly what he warned the audience he'd do if given the opportunity? Which is gain the trust of people due to his credentials as well as the severity of the circumstances then weaponize said credentials to emphasizes his own importance in order to commit the same fucking crime in front of everyone.

While people swear up and down time works differently in Milgram, that's why she's not healing as fast. We don't even know if the prisoners are alive, so maybe they can't heal once they're injured. While Futa is over here like- Man, I listened to the child and stopped relying on Shidou and I've only continued to get better. This shit is ridiculous. Usually, you're told to always listen to your doctor, but what if your doctor weaponizes that blind faith and societal rule against you to cause irreparable harm. Wow, it's always important to get a second opinion and think for yourself at times. Luckily, I got out.

Right now people are emphasizing how Shidou warned us about Amane. Told us something had to be done about Amane. No one is touching on the fact that Shidou and Amane were both voted innocent. How both of their verdicts led to this outcome. How Amane warned the audience about Shidou and his behavior. Warned Mahiru that what she was doing would lead her to an early death.

No one is asking if Shidou was guilty and Amane innocent would he be the only one out of that pair dead right now. Instead we validated both of them seeing full and well how Shidou was caring for Mahiru every step of the way. Feeling the time drag on and seeing her condition worsen not improve. Yet many kept telling themselves no he's actually doing what he said he would do.

He wouldn't do it again.

Milgram is just weird. We don't know enough about the space to say that's not impacting how long it takes for these injuries to heal. So his behavior was validated again and maybe if it wasn't Mahiru might still fucking be here. Because if she was given the space to properly heal instead of being kept at deaths door in immense physical pain and emotional distress for two years.

By this man who can only feel validated in his own existence and as though his life has purpose when he has someone else to take care of then maybe she could have at least spent her last days in less pain than she died in here. Because there is no reason that her injuries should have remained for twenty-nine months.

To the extent that she was still having trouble moving and looking as though she was at death's door to anyone who saw her before she was ever even lost. It sucks but a lot of people including myself have speculated he was committing malpractice again as soon as he was voted innocent and Mahiru was voted innocent but her condition still continued to worsen many suspected that.

It sucks that Mahiru had to suffer due to the audience's and others blind trust in this medical professional. That the work has done everything in its power to display commits malpractice and isn't safe to have around injured or sick people. They literally could not have announced this harder. Maybe he didn't do it. But it's still weird that all the injuries he lists Mahiru having in his second voice drama at most take three to six months to heal and she was still recovering from allegedly the same injuries Kotoko gave her up until she died.

"Head lacerations. Bruising all over her body. A sprained neck. Fractured ribs. Further fracturing of the left arm. And furthermore... This may be outside of my profession, but her mental health is deteriorating as well."

Maybe the number of injuries all together and the inadequate equipment within Milgram made it take longer. Yet she never got better in over two years. She couldn't walk without feeling pain. She started out being able to at least move a little without pain and through the use of a wheelchair but even that stopped.

She just got worse and worse until she died. Then, the one time we saw her up and walking before she died, Shidou was nowhere to be found. Last she said she was gonna go find him to say thank you. Who knows how that went or why she couldn't find him to begin with. Especially since his cell is right next to hers. That would imply he wasn't in it, which maybe.

I just know that if she was given time to heal if Shidou did back off a bit maybe she wouldn't have been in as fragile a state as she was. Well at least she doesn't have to spend another birthday writhing in pain from wounds that seem to never heal.

"This adorable, earnest, sincere ♥ Is bleeding, wailing, this is the end."

[13atoms]

Airplane Mode (Spencer Reid x Reader)

A quick blurb about Spencer Reid and his SO finally getting a resort vacation! (Or holiday, because I’m a Brit and saying vacation feels weird). Insp by the slightly weird holiday I’m currently on lol | 1k fluff

Holidays were a bad omen for the BAU. Like complaining a night shift in a hospital is too quiet, or that it hasn’t rained in a while. Holidays meant something was bound to go wrong. So you’d waited until the very last minute to book the flights. Packed your suitcases two hours before leaving for the airport.

You hadn’t allowed yourself to be excited to go away, or even to tell many friends you’d be on holiday.

The louder you said it, the more likely it was that Spencer would be called into work, and the whole thing would fall to the wayside in a series of frantic phone calls. Ultimately, it would only mean Spencer felt awful, and guilty, and it would have been better if you’d never planned anything in the first place. It wasn’t his fault, you couldn’t resent him for it, people’s lives were at stake.

But you were so excited for a vacation.

Even in the airport, as Spencer passed through security with the lazy, efficient movements of a weary regular flier, you’d been waiting for his phone to ring. For it to all be over. You’d held his arm in the airport lounge, waiting for the gate announcement, not daring to speak a word in case the universe heard you and Spencer had to jump on a different plane before yours had even taken off. Then there would be the arguing with the airline. The money lost, the forms for it to be refunded by the FBI, your bags missing because they were already packed deep into the hold of the plane.

You had clutched your coffee cup, already feeling dread and exhaustion overtaking you.

Then the plane had taken off. You hadn’t quite believed it. Spencer put his phone on airplane mode, and showed it to you.

“We’ve made it,” he whispered, through a smile, “it would be in violation of the Federal Aviation Administration regulations to take a call from work now.”

You shoved your face into his neck, and let yourself begin to feel excited.

The resort was one recommended by a colleague of Spencer’s, boring and relaxing, adults’ only and pleasantly quiet. There was a time and a place for exploring and excitement, but truly the thought of Spencer spending a single week away from work felt like excitement enough.

In the taxi from the airport, when Spencer had turned his phone back on and not received summons from Gideon, you finally let yourself utter the words:

“I can’t believe we’re on holiday.”

“I know!”

Spencer was giddy, you could count on one hand the number of times you’d heard him giggle, and it was so wonderful you had to pull his hand into yours and squeeze it.

“I am so excited to do nothing,” he admitted, though you knew his e-reader contained a small library’s worth of books.

“I just want to eat good food, and spend time with you.”

“I think I’m going to turn my phone off,” he said abruptly, as though he’d only just had the thought he could.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah! Garcia knows where I am, if there’s a real emergency. That way I won’t feel like I have to check it all the time.”

“That sounds like a great idea.”

He smiled at you, and you watched as he shot off a quick text to Penelope, before completely turning his phone off. For a moment there was silence, and you both waited, listening to the sound of rubber on tarmac and feeling the heat of the sun outside. Nothing happened. Of course it didn’t. The realisation made you burst out laughing at the same time as Spencer, and you caught a flash of the driver’s backwards glance in the rear view mirror.

“You know what, mine too!”

You turned your phone off in solidarity, and stacked it beside his on the middle seat.

“Swap?” Spencer asked, offering you his phone, but you shook your head.

“Straight into the safe, when we get to the hotel. They can stay there.”

“That’s an even better idea.”

You knew, if it came down to it, if a life was at risk, he’d get the message from the hotel reception and go back to Quantico. That was okay. It was part of who he was, he needed the BAU, as much as they needed him.

There was a chain of people between that decision being made and Spencer finding out, including Gideon and Penelope, who would do everything in that power not to ask him. And that felt good.

For the first day, you let yourselves do only what you wanted to, to explore, to lie in bed, to read. Spencer needed the reminders not to watch every little thing that happened, not to examine poolsides and restaurants like they were crime scenes, but soon that went away and the frown in his brow was smoothed.

He wore swim trunks. He tried sips of your cocktail while floating in a pool. He laughed, and cried at one of the books he read, and ate properly, and let himself spend hours lying against your body in bed.

When you left the hotel, you both forgot your phones, and had to pay the taxi driver to turn around and get them.

“We should just leave them,” you’d joked breathlessly, as the receptionist concealed exasperation and politely led you to the room you’d just checked out of.

“That would be pointless, I’d just have to buy another one –” Spencer was distracted, following the receptionist, working out whether you’d miss the plane in the worst possible scenario.

You could see the stress in him, as the taxi driver waited outside with your bags, his meter running.

“Not if we stay here forever,” you teased, and finally saw the fall of his shoulders, the smile lines appearing on his face.

“You know, that’s not a bad idea.”

Spencer made it a whole 24 hours after landing without getting on another plane, and you considered it a small victory. When he called you on the jet you could almost see him, skin a little bit more tanned, his hair still a little curlier from the sun and the chlorine.

“You’d better bring a souvenir, jet setter,” you teased, and imagined Spencer wrinkling his nose before he replied.

“We’re going to Milwaukee.”

[sticknpokelightningbolt]

Having some Steter thoughts...

Here's a drabble that may or may not turn into a whole fic:

“Why are you here, Stiles?”

“Oh, uh. You know what, nevermind.”

“You let yourself into my loft—”

“It’s Derek’s loft.”

“—clearly agitated, nervous, sweaty—”

“I am not sweaty.”

Peter puts his book down and gives Stiles a good once over. “What are you here for, Stiles? If you need something, you’ll get it faster by simply asking.”

“Dude, it’s nothing. I was just—”

“Looking for Derek. You said ‘it’s Derek’s loft,’ which means you were looking for Derek.”

“That’s a bit of a stretch. Who’s to say I don’t let myself into Derek’s loft all the time, regardless of whether or not I think he’s on the premises?”

Peter stands up from the sofa, wanders closer to Stiles, still studying him. Stiles tries not to fidget under his scrutiny.

Peter stops when he’s just pushing the boundary of Stiles’ personal space. He looks Stiles in the eyes, expression squinting ever so slightly. Then, “Don’t do that, Stiles.”

“Do what? I’m not doing anything.”

“Don’t do what you came here to do.”

Stiles’ mouth pops open in surprise. For some reason, he believes that Peter knows why he’s here. But how does he know? How does Peter just know things? Stiles recovers enough to close his mouth. “And why not?” he asks, crossing his arms over his chest. “We’re both adults, with, I suspect, a mutual attraction, and what I assume to be an equally mutual need to get off.”

Peter looks considering for a moment before he speaks. “Because he can’t do casual. And he knows that about himself. So either he’ll turn you down, or he’ll want more from you. And you’ll be dissatisfied, whichever way it goes.”

Stiles tries not to pout. And yeah, it’s partially because he’s disappointed at the lack of fruits for this particular labor, but it’s also because he’s annoyed that Peter was able to call him out so easily.

“Stiles.” Peter calls his attention back.

“Right. Well. Then I’m going. And don’t worry, I won’t, you know, try it with him.” Stiles turns back toward the door.

“I can do casual.”

Stiles stops.

“It’s been suggested to me that casual is all I can do, in fact. I believe the term ‘emotionally unavailable’ was used. On several occasions.”

Stiles turns around.

Peter steps closer. “Thoughts?”

Stiles’ heart rate picks up and he knows that Peter can hear it. Hell, if he were any closer, he could feel it.

“Is that because you’re nervous or excited?” Peter asks, glancing down at Stiles’ chest.

“Both.”

“Good.” Peter’s grin is sharp. He steps impossibly closer to Stiles, somehow still not touching him. Maybe he’s not going to. Maybe Peter’s just fucking with him. Seems like something he would do.

But then there’s a hand on his hip. Thumb slipped under the hem of his shirt. Fingers squeezing. Stiles sucks in a breath.

When Peter kisses him, it’s not the bruising kiss Stiles is expecting. There’s a hand on the side of his face, and a firm but controlled press of lips.

Stiles lets his eyes fall shut, breathes through his nose as they get into it, get used to each other. It’s nice. Nicer than Stiles thought it would be. Not that he’s spent a lot of time thinking about what kissing Peter would be like. It’s crossed his mind, sure, but not in any kind of serious way.

This, though… this’ll be on his mind plenty. Especially if whatever happens next is as good as what’s happening now, because right now, Peter’s tongue is in his mouth and he’s got Stiles pulled in tight against him, and it’s all warm and good and Stiles feels a moan creep up his throat.

Peter pulls back, humming against Stiles’ lips. “Let’s go upstairs,” he murmurs.

Stiles nods and lets himself get pulled along up the spiraling staircase.

[starhvney]

𝐒𝐔𝐁𝐉𝐄𝐂𝐓 𝟑 | 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝟏𝟑: 𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐄𝐑 & 𝐀𝐍 𝐎𝐋𝐃 𝐅𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐃

𝐂𝐖: paranoia, anxiety, physical violence

𝐀/𝐍: mama, a kidnapper behind YOU <3

𝐖𝐂: 5,800+

𝐄𝐃𝐈𝐓𝐎𝐑: @arienic

𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐓 ☆ 𝐍𝐄𝐗𝐓 | 𝐀𝐎𝟑 | 𝐅𝐈𝐂 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 | 𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐊𝐒

“i can’t believe your parents casually own riverfront property in the mountains. i know we’re here already, but i still can’t get over it.”

“have you seen our house?” zane deadpans sarcastically, rolling his eyes and looking back at aphmau. he’d been hunched over on that log the whole morning, squinting down at the nintendo he’d brought with him.

“you shouldn’t brag,” vylad murmurs from where he knelt down by the ice chest, right by garroth who was cooking everyone lunch on the grill.

“whatever. i don’t know why either of you or mom wanted me to go on this stupid trip.”

“because you need to get out more. the sun is healthy for you, you know.”

you turn your head from the squabbling brothers, rubbing them out as you look around at the scenery. aphmau’s shock wasn’t lost on you, either. the summer sun wasn’t too hot thanks to the northern region this property sat on, yet the rays that shone through the tree leaves and hit your face still kissed your skin with warmth. the distant noise of the river flowing and birds chirping was the only thing heard aside from your friends’ chatter. tall, beautiful trees surrounded the area, closing in the clearing this camping—or more glamping setup was in.

a tall watchtower loomed up on the small hill above you, and below it laid a bunker you hadn’t yet explored. you and the group are currently gathered around the fire pit, the small log cabin everyone was bunking in just off to the side. honestly, as shocked you were to be in a place this beautiful, you’re more shocked everyone’s parents were okay with you guys coming here alone. a bunch of teenagers alone, with no adult supervision? you guess due to your parents’ past friendship (save for laurance), they trusted each other’s kids to be good and not stir up too much trouble. but still.

it makes you wonder. when everyone else in this group grows older, will you all trust each other the same as your parents do? as you all do now? would your kids be friends? would you even keep your friends for that long?

“you look lost in thought,” aphmau murmurs from beside you.

katelyn is next to her, turning her attention to you as she adjusts her blue flannel that matches aphmau’s purple and your own favorite color. the incoming sophomore had insisted you three matched, saying flannel shirts “so matched the camping vibe” and that the girls of the group matching would be “super duper cute”.

“just… thinking.”

“about what?” katelyn prods.

if you’d tolerate my friendship for much longer. 

“the future.”

“ooh, what about it?”

“just what we become. if we’ll all be together by then.”

“hopefully not,” zane grumbles under his breath, earning a sharp glare from not only his brothers but also laurance who’d been quietly observing the conversation.

“it would be so cool if we all lived in the same neighborhood one day!” aphmau suddenly says, hands clasped together as she completely ignores zane’s remark. “on the same street!”

“do you know how hard that would be to find a bunch of houses for sale together like that? you’d have to know, like, a really important realtor.” katelyn says, before her own words clip short at the end as she looks over to the ro’meave brothers, eyebrow raised. “i guess it’s not completely impossible… perhaps…”

“you’d have to really do something big to convince our dad to do that.” vylad muses. “unless something super crazy happened and we all had to live together for like… our safety or something.”

“that’s a weird way to put it.” laurance snorts.

“i’m just saying! it would be a huge loss money-wise for him.”

“he’s right,” zane mutters. “thankfully something like that won’t be necessary, so i won’t have to live by you freaks.”

aphmau gawks, putting her hands on yours and katelyn’s heads. “excuse me? i bet the three of us would be amazing roommates. we’d be the best neighbors!”

“ehhh…” katelyn starts.

“ehh?! what do you mean eeeehhhh? you wouldn’t want to room with me?”

laurance turns to you, leaning in to whisper in your ear, “did one eye just call us freaks? has he seen his haircut?”

“stop,” you snort, giving a scorning slap to his hand. “don’t be rude.”

“hey! he’s garroth’s little brother, so he's my little brother. i get to make fun of him like one,” he defends, eyeing the younger boy with mischief in his eyes. “besides, i’ve been sent here on this earth to humble both him and garroth. they desperately need it.”

you roll your eyes, but you can’t help the smile inching onto your face. it was kind of fun to tease them. “but not vylad, huh?”

“nah, look at him.” he gestures towards the youngest, the boy smiling absentmindedly while listening to aph, kate, and zane squabble. “you really can’t make fun of that. bro’s at peace.”

“that’s… so true. he’s really well put together, actually.”

your eyes drift to garroth, who’s setting the freshly cooked food down on the trays

“damn, no plates,” he sighs under his breath, looking around. “how did we forget that?”

vylad frowns, looking at his older brother. “i thought there were some in the cabin…? do we need to run to the store?”

the blond shakes his head, setting the freshly grilled meat onto the metal tray. “no, no. there should be some in the bunker’s storage. i’ll go look.”

you jump to your feet at the mention of the bunker, dusting the stray bark and dirt that stuck to your legs. “i’ll help. i wanted to see what it looked like, anyways.”

garroth shrugs with a smile, slowing his long stride for you to catch up as he trudges up the hill. “it’s not really anything special. just some dusty boxes and stuff down there.”

“aw, man. no secret lab?”

“i’m afraid not. sorry to disappoint.” he grins, stepping forward to open the hatch. 

a shiver runs down your spine at the cool air that wafts up from the dark room below, the contents inside hidden beyond the creaky staircase before you. something about the energy it gave off both drew you in and repelled you at the same time, keeping you still in place as you stared at the dark pit below.

“you scared? i can go first,” garroth offers, waving his hand in front of your face.

“huh? oh no, i’m not scared.”

“…sure…” he teases, snickering at the glare you send as he leads the way. “don’t worry. if you turn back now i won’t tell the others you’re a scaredy cat.”

“scaredy cat? how old are you?”

“older than you.”

you roll your eyes, and despite wanting to smack the boy’s forehead, your focus turns to the buzz of the single lightbulb that flickers on as you both make it to the bottom of the steps. garroth walks over to some boxes and crates that had been stacked in the corner, leaving you to look around at the concrete walls around you.

he was right, there wasn’t much special about it. nothing but cobwebs and crates filled the bunker, aside from a pile of rocks and dirt piled in the corner behind the stairs. as garroth continues to shuffle through his family’s storage, you curiously walk over to the debris. strange. sure, this was just a small vacation spot for the ro’meaves, but they always kept everything so tidy. why would they just leave this junk in here?

squinting your eyes, you catch a dark, brownish red painted on the wall. the shadow of the staircase kept it too dim to read, but you also catch a crack in the wall that looked like an old covered-up doorway. something about it sent a shiver up your spine, the hairs on the back of your neck standing up. why is this place freaking you out so much?

“what are you looking at?” garroth suddenly asks from behind you, making you jump in place.

“oh, i was just trying to read this.” you point to the wall, and he pulls a flashlight from his pocket, shining it onto the dusty surface.

you were right. dark, reddish brown is rather messily painted onto the wall as if it were done in a hurry. the writing is illegible, whether it’s in another language or just poorly written indiscernible by you. though, above the writing, you did recognize one thing. it wasn’t words or strange signs, but instead a symbol of a very familiar divine figure.

“is that the irene sigil?”

“oh, yeah. that was there since i was a kid—as long as i can remember. mom just brushed it off saying it was dad playing a prank on us to try and scare us or something. but honestly, i always thought it was just kinda weird.”

“yeah… i know it’s probably paint… but doesn’t that look like blood or something?”

garroth snorts and begins to shake his head, before he hums and leans forward with furrowed brows. “you know… i remember it being brighter red when i was younger. now it’s kinda brown. i’m not great at science but isn’t that what happens when blood oxidizes for a long time or something?”

you raise an eyebrow at that, the two of you making nervous eye contact from the corners of your eyes.

“surely it’s just dirt and time that made the paint fade. why would it be blood?” you dryly laugh, standing straight again.

“yeah. blood would be weird. i think it’s just this place. always gave me the creeps.” garroth nods, following your awkward laughter as he stands tall himself, lifting the small stack of paper plates in his hand. “i uh—i found some plates by the way. so we should probably go eat now.”

“right, right,” you agree, glancing one last time at the ominous drawings before the two of you climb the stairs quicker than you had descended them.

☆

“man. to be able to spend the rest of my days floating around in the water. that would be the life,” katelyn murmurs, her head bobbing on top of the water as she floats on her back. “i know i’m a mermaid in another life.” 

you glance over to her from the float you had lazily thrown your arms over. her hair flowed from her head in tendrils, the color darker from the water but occasionally shimmering as the sun's rays hit the strands. her pale skin and light blue swimsuit stood out from the darker water below her, making her practically glow against the river’s surface.

“i could see that, actually.”

katelyn lifts herself upright, starting to giggle. “right?”

“hey guys! if we want to kayak then we should do it before it gets dark,” garroth calls from the rope swing on the opposite side of the river bank. “you still want to go?”

“of course!” kate calls back, as if the answer was obvious.

vylad whoops while laurance swings himself over the water, the boy flipping back in the air as he goes. he appears on the surface a moment later, smiling as he spits the water from his mouth. “we’ll grab them from the shed!”

“is zane coming?” you ask, wading backward towards the small wooden dock that aph was perched on.

“he’s still pouting up in the cabin. you can go see if he wants to come,” vylad says. “…he probably won’t, though.”

“okay, i’ll go check, anyways.”

“are you sure you don’t want to come in the water, aphmau?” katelyn asks, swimming up to the edge with you.

“ummm, yep!” she smiles, her demeanor seeming a bit nervous as she eyes the flowing river ahead. “just don’t feel like swimming.”

“well, maybe you can kayak with us instead. you don’t even have to get wet for that.”

“maybe…”

wrapping a towel around your shoulders, you begin the walk back up to the campsite, grateful for the stone steps that had been built into the steep hill. trees hung over the path, keeping you shaded while the cool mountain breeze bristled the leaves over your head. your friends’ laughter and splashing in the water fade into the background as you finally make it to the top, your footsteps falling into the grass and dirt as you march up to the cabin door.

it’s dark inside, save for the natural light that filtered through the windows and the lamp lit up next to zane’s bunk. he laid back on the pillows, hoodie pulled over his head as he clicked away at his game. despite your obvious entrance, he completely ignores it, not even sparing a glance in your direction.

“hey.”

“what.”

you hold back the eye roll that fights against your eyelids, instead quietly sighing under your breath.

“we’re going kayaking in a minute. want to come?”

“no.”

“it’s the last evening of our trip. don’t you want to at least try to have a little fun?”

“no. i don’t care about swimming or kayaking, so why would i?”

“because i came all the way up here to get you to go.”

“then it was a waste of your time.”

you pull in another sharp breath, and despite the desire to just turn around nagging at your brain, you couldn’t ignore the image of him curled on the school tile. clearly, despite his harshness and wanting to seem like he didn’t care, he did seek validation from others. his whole act of being a punk and trying to get that validation from gene of all people nagged at your head.

“you know… actually not having people and friends who care about you isn’t very much fun. i’m sure a lot of people would kill to be in your place right now.” you shift on your feet. “not trying to lecture you or something, but you should at least try and have a little fun, since you’re already stuck here. in the future, you might regret not taking advantage of this time with everyone.”

“i don’t need you to tell me anything,” he grumbles, though not sounding as snappy as before. “i don’t like socializing. is it that hard to understand?”

“no. i don’t necessarily like it all the time, either. it can be really draining. but so is being alone all the time. you can think you like it but it eventually just makes you bitter. you never know when you’ll turn around needing someone to help you only to realize you’ve pushed them all away.”

“oh, like you’d know anything about that,” he snips. “you get coddled by everyone 'cause you can’t go outside without getting scared about some—“

he flinches like the sour words that left his mouth had spat out of his lips before he could even think of them.

“what an awful thing to say. you don’t know anything.”

his mouth is agape, and the eye that’s visible to you for once seems full of guilt.

“the offer still stands. i just thought i’d let you know.” you turn around, teeth tugging at the skin of your lip as you step out of the cabin.

stupid boy.

you make it to the edge of the camp, at the top of the stone stairs, when the cabin door creaks open and closes. quickened footsteps follow after you a moment later, before the lanky boy quietly falls in place next to you. his head is low, eye trained on the rocky path beneath your feet.

a beat passes in silence, your eyes locked on the steps ahead. he sighs tensely, shoving his hands in his pockets.

“sorry,” he mumbles. “that was shitty to say. even for me.”

you start down the steps, shrugging. “it’s fine.”

he starts to follow, and while no more apologies leave his lips, you can tell he’s sorry enough based on the fact he was still following you to the dock. that alone was enough to surprise you, considering he’d likely rather shoot his own foot than apologize even to his own two brothers. 

“woah, you actually got him out here. you have secret powers or something?” laurance raises his eyebrows, shooting a questioning look at zane who loomed behind you as you approached the dock.

“something like that,” you muse.

“i don’t know if i want to go,” aphmau mutters, her arms wrapped around herself as she rocks on her feet by the water. 

the kayaks are lined up by her feet, four double-seaters in a row.

“well, even zane is going so you definitely have to,” katelyn says, splashing a bit of water by the girl’s feet and giggling when she leaps back.

“you don’t have to, but it’ll be fun! you can go with zane since he also doesn’t want to get wet. then you can both be reassured knowing you won’t tip the other in,” you suggest.

“i would rather not share with her.” zane sneers, eyeing aphmau up and down with a rather sassy look.

the girl takes great offense to this, her fists clenched by her sides. “well—! i don’t want to share with you, either! you have a stupid face!”

“wow. i thought we left kindergarten.” garroth rolls his eyes, nodding his head to laurance, who has already dragged one out into the water and is occupying himself by attempting to jump inside. “looks like he already left with one, anyways.”

katelyn pulls you towards one of the three left, pushing you into the spot in front of her as she slides in herself. you nearly tip over into the water again from the sudden movement, yelping as water splashes on your lap.

“well, that leaves vylad and me in this one. come on you two.” garroth motions to the last kayak left, raising his eyebrows challengingly at the two pouting teens left on the dock. “let’s be civil.”

it took ten minutes of complaining and nervous shuffling before the whole group was out on the water. despite the drama of it all, it was worth it. despite aphmau’s sudden fear of water which you hadn’t noticed before and zane’s reluctance to experience any joy, you could tell they were at least slightly enjoying this, too. the sun was painting the clouds in different shades of orange and pink as it made its way to the horizon, leaving you all surprisingly quiet as you all soaked in the moment.

“what’s on your mind?” katelyn suddenly asks from behind you, and despite nobody else turning their heads over, you could tell they were listening. “and don’t say nothing like you usually do lately.”

a huff leaves your nose, and a few moments pass before you answer. “just about… how…”

“the stalker?” aphmau whispers, pulling everyone’s eyes towards you.

“...yeah. just how weird it was that he showed his face, and now it’s been since before prom since i’ve seen him or the black suv. i just want to know what he’s thinking.”

laurance spins the kayak oar in his hands, before using it to pull himself closer to you.

“you hadn’t seen him before?”

“well, no. i mean, yes, but i didn’t realize it was him until later.” you rub your eyes with the palms of your hands. “it isn’t the first time he’s disappeared for a while, but he gets bolder each time he 'shows' himself to me. it’s just been making me feel on edge, lately, is all.”

there isn’t a response to that for a few beats.

“sorry, that was a mood dampener.”

there’s a collective shake of heads (besides zane), a few protestant “no”s echoing across the group.

“it just sucks. how has police not done anything?”

“they can’t actually do anything unless an actual threat to my life is made. plus, he’s so inconsistent with his appearances that it would take a lot of resources and time from emergency services if they tried tracking him. at least, that’s what the cops said before. that’s why i moved in the first place.”

katelyn scoffs. “that’s such bullshit. they just wait until something bad happens? it shouldn’t matter how long it takes. that’s psychological warfare.”

you shrug, bringing your knees up to your chest and resting your chin on them. “yeah, but unfortunately that’s how it works. i guess i’m just scared that i’ll have to run again. i’ve never had friends like you guys… so the thought of having to leave you all behind right as i get to be normal is really scary.”

���no matter what happens, you’ll always be our friend," vylad says, giving you a hopeful grin. 

“and as your friends, we’re here to protect you,” garroth adds, uncharacteristically serious. “we won’t let anything bad happen to you.”

☆

the van rocks forward as garroth parks, the sunset shining through the windows and creating bright shapes across your eyelids. cracking your eyes open, you reluctantly pull your cheek from where it had snuggly rested on katelyn’s shoulder, consequentially stirring up aphmau who was laid across your lap. the icee she’d gotten on the trip back was still precariously set between her legs—it was shocking that it hadn't spilled onto her lap as the three of you slept in the back.

aphmau’s house meets your eyes as you clamber out of the back seat, your own just right down your line of vision. you were back home. a smile lifts on the corner of your lips at that. it wasn’t just a place you moved into, anymore. it was home. as were the teens that crawled out from the ro’meave’s van. home.

a strange shiver of being watched prickles at your neck, and your attention turns from your friends to the street behind you. nothing is there but the other houses on the street, the cars you saw regularly parked in their driveways. 

everything is fine. the neighborhood is peaceful in the evening time, the summer insects chirping away as their time of the night comes. the air around you is calm, yet your breath seems to catch in your throat, the hot air invading your lungs rather than warming them. your heart thuds in your chest, its pace so rapid it feels like it’s stuttering against your rib cage. 

you hadn’t stopped thinking about the markings on the bunker wall the whole trip, the imagery of the creepy, bloody-looking drawings still imprinted in your mind. on top of that, the conversation you’d had last evening was still buzzing around in your head, making for a rough mix of paranoia.

“are you okay?” aphmau whispers from right next to you, finally pulling your eyes from the street to the worried-looking girl next to you.

“yeah… just thinking. about things.”

that was eloquent.

you’re grateful for this trip. ever since she’d started talking to that aaron guy she seemed to have a lot less time to hang out or even talk to you as much, so having some time with the girl by herself was nice. you honestly didn’t blame her for her puppy love with the guy. you’d thought of him as a delinquent at first, but he wasn’t so bad at prom. he was a little quiet, but he was actually pretty nice as far as you could tell. he was the tall, dark, and handsome type, and that was a perfect contrast to the walking sun that aphmau was.

she hums looking unsure, before reluctantly letting it go as you wave her off.

“really?” katelyn suddenly groans, staring down at her phone.

laurance turns to look over his shoulder at the girl, a mischievous smile dancing across his face.

“what?”

“you know what! you little creep, why'd you post this? delete it, now!”

laurance begins to snicker. “no. it’s funny.”

you walk to katelyn’s side as she sends a sharp glare at him, peering over her shoulder to see her instagram open. recently posted by laurance was a picture of him and vylad cheesing into the camera, their faces at the bottom of the screen while you, kate, and aph were passed out in the background.

“i look awful. my mouth is open! i look like a mouth breather!”

“no… you three look… adorable…” he says between giggles, before yelping as the girl charges at him. aphmau chases after them as they run inside, her hands frantically waving for them to stop.

you walk after them, the ro’meave brothers—save for zane who’d been dropped off on the way—following along behind you into the salome residence. surprisingly you didn’t hear any shouting or wrestling as you’d expect, and instead, kate and laurance have crowded around the kitchen island that was filled with snacks.

sylvanna lets go of aphmau, who’d been wrapped up in her clutches for a tight hug, and sets her sights on you. 

“mija!” she rushes you, pulling you in her arms and rocking side to side. “did you all have fun?”

“yes! it was a lot of fun,” you laugh, the tenseness in your shoulders leaving with every shake from the woman. “thank you for letting us all stay here for the night.”

“of course! as long as the boys here behave themselves, then your vacation doesn’t have to end just yet!” she says, her head whipping to the three guys who stiffen at her burning glare.

laurance looks at the feisty woman from the corner of his widened eyes, cheeks full of chips as he nods.

“of course. we’d never, miss sylvanna.” garroth smiles. “our mum taught us better.”

“of course she did!” she lets you go from her grasp, walking back over to the group with a chipper grin. “just making sure you don’t forget. zianna gave me permission to whoop all of your asses if you try anything!”

“mom…” aphmau sighs, rubbing her forehead.

“what? just speakin’ the truth, yo!”

aphmau groans into her hands.

you walk over to the snacks, picking up some small bite-sized things to nibble on as the lively conversation continues around you. everyone looks so happy. their smiling faces bright in the dim kitchen light, laughter carrying through the air of the cozy house and wrapping around you like a tight warm hug. part of you wishes you could sit in this moment forever, standing in the kitchen and watching your friends chatter amongst themselves. it was such a simple moment, yet you felt as though you should hold on to it.

“nothing—“ you start, before shaking your head with a smile. “i’m just glad we’re all friends.”

everyone stops, and as they all smile at you you don’t feel the need to hide or curl away like you usually would when faced with many eyes on you. there’s no prickling in your hands, or a coldness in your chest. you just feel warm.

“awwww,” sylvanna coos, aphmau making a similar sound as the two wrap their arms around you and press their cheeks into your hair. “we love you too!”

“you’re the cutest.” katelyn laughs, wrapping her arms around the three of you—with the boys following quickly after.

the moment lasts for a good ten seconds before you feel overwhelmed by the love being poured onto you.

“okay, okay. i’m gonna run to my house really quick to grab some things.” squirming out of their arms with a giggle, your cheeks burn hot from the affection.

“okay, mija. don’t take long.” sylvanna taps your nose.

you nod and make your way to the front door, pausing when you realize the sun has already disappeared, leaving the space beyond the window dark and black. for some reason, it sends an anxious feeling through your chest, and as you reach for the door you nearly jump out of your skin as garroth’s hand lands on your shoulder.

“hey. didn’t mean to scare you.” he smiles nervously, his hand waving over your shoulder like it would wipe away the fright he’d just given you.

“oh! it’s okay, garroth. what’s up?”

“you just looked a little nervous earlier,” he says, shifting on his feet. “are you thinking about… everything? i can walk you to your house if you’re feeling scared.”

a deep breath of air fills your lungs. sweet garroth. all of your friends were, and you knew they’d all come running to help you if you called—and you were just stepping right down the street. there’s nothing to worry about.

“no, that’s okay.” you reach out to pat his arm. “thank you, garroth. i’ll be okay.”

“are you sure? i really don’t mind.”

“yeah. i’m sure.”

he looks hesitant, but takes a step back with a small smile. “okay, then. see you in a bit.”

“mhm.”

you open the door, step out, and give a wave before continuing out to the pavement. the lingering heat from the summer sun wavered in the air, though the cool night breeze was beginning to blow it away, leaving the air perfectly warm against your skin. ignoring the tingling in your fingers, you keep your shoulders high as you cut across the lawn to the sidewalk, shoes clicking against the concrete.

glancing back one last time, garroth was slowly closing the door, watching you walk away before completely shutting it.

your eyes rake the street beside you, street lamps and the moonlight lighting up every car on the road. each neighbor had their vehicles in their regular spots, everything seeming in order as you check every house one by one.

everything is fine, right? so why do you feel so on edge?

swallowing thickly, you take a shaky inhale and bring your sweaty hand up to zianna’s locket. this walk to your house feels longer than usual.

what’s that noise?

eyebrows pulling together, your eyes narrow as you look ahead, to where the street lamp ahead shone down on an idled vehicle in the road.

black paint reflected back at you, but not the lights. no, the only hint that it was on was the low hum of the engine.

you don’t realize you’ve frozen in place—nor that your breaths had stopped—until you suck in a sudden breath to chase away the swirling black dots that swam around your peripheral vision. you’re one house away from your home, two from aphmau’s. the vehicle is in front of yours.

would you have better luck running forward to your house? or turning around and booking it back to hers? have you already messed up by standing here like frozen prey?

you tear your eyes from the suv, flicking your anxiously blurred vision to the street ahead of you. a woman’s silhouette approached you, and you finally registered the clicking of her heels over the pounding of your heart in your ears and labored breathing. the distant street lamp shines on her hair, the powder blue a strangely familiar shade on your eyes. should you ask her for help? but why would a woman be out here in what looked to be formal attire?

no. she’s with him. you need to run.

it takes a second too long for your body to obey your mind, but you do turn, legs unlocking from their stiffened place and ready to run. you only make it two steps before you look up, a gasp you can only describe as terror filling your lungs when you see the man standing just five steps behind you. dark eyes bore into you, and it felt like you were staring into the depths of an evil entity rather than whoever this man was.

you bring your fist up to your face, slotting the metal whistle between your lips.

before you can even take in a full breath, the man has closed the distance, the back of his hand smacking across your cheek and pulling the locket from your fingers. you vaguely feel the clasp of the necklace break off from the back of your neck, the locket clattering to the ground and away from your reach. stumbling back from the sting of his strike, there’s barely any time to stand upright before his hand is gripping you by the back of the head, the other bringing a damp cloth up to cover your mouth and nose.

it smells sweet, overwhelmingly sweet. suddenly it’s like cotton candy has filled your head and lungs, your vision swimming dizzily. with whatever strength you have left, you dig your nails deep into the man’s hands, dragging down and successfully getting him to drop you with a grunt.

stumbling forward, you fall on the pavement, crawling to the street. your vision turns and twists, feet clumsily dragging underneath you like an injured deer.

you hadn’t made a sound yet. no one can hear what’s happening right now.

weak arms give out from beneath you, your cheek colliding with the rough street. turning your head, you try to scream, but your lungs give out on your attempt and merely exhale a small helpless whimper. heels appear in front of you, and you look up to see a halo of blue before something pricks against your neck.

and everything goes black.

©starhvney 2024. do not plagiarize, feed to any AI, or repost my works to any sites.

tag list: @orinlin @pain-in-the-ashe @youmake1mistake @arienic @wasting-away-on-the-internet @angelhyperfixates @remiechu @valentique @kalegrinch

[politemenacephd]

Arachnophilia (Part Fourteen)

Drider!Miguel O'Hara x Reader (+18)

Chapter Masterlist 🕷️

Word Count: 5040 Notes: Voyeurism build up is here, will be dropping that next chapter. For now here's some tension/proper argument w HQ!Miguel and some fluff w Mig

‘You’re sure you wish to return today?’

You paused midway through the very unflattering motion of hoisting your suit over your hips, rolling on the bed like a flipped beach turtle, and turned to find Mig watching you from across the room.

His big red eyes already betrayed his concern as they darted from your face to your body, as did his slowly tapping paws.

You shot him a reassuring smile. ‘I’m sure, Mig! Don’t worry, I have a plan.’

Mig made that same adorable face he always did when he was disgruntled, as his nose wrinkled up and his brows folded in over his big puppy-dog eyes. Your reassurance would never be enough, sadly.

‘You could- stay, another hour’ he offered. ‘They can’t fault you for being a little late.’

You sighed through the nose and finally did up the last hidden button on your suit, snapping it into place.

It’d been a few days since Mig’s confession. You’d managed to snag the extra time away from the society by calling up Jess and going through some early talking points online, but all the time you’d gained had been devoted solely to working through Mig’s worries.

His possessive nature had certain gotten worse since he’d acknowledged his past to you. He startled at every minor noise, he rustled against you constantly to keep you saturated in his scent. He panicked when you weren’t in his line of sight, and he was patrolling his territory more and more.

The worst one though was at night, when he’d hide behind his giant legs and you had to gently coax him out.

It wasn’t easy, but you weren’t opposed to comforting your monster partner. You knew it was going to be hard on him. Today he’d made enough progress to at least let you return for a bit, and that was great, but you knew to expect relapses.

With a slight hop you stumbled to your feet and crossed the nest, carefully taking his hands into yours.

‘Uhuh, I could stay an extra hour. And then you would say, please stay another hour, then another, then another, and then I’m called in for insubordination and I get my watch taken away’ you said, firm but soft.

‘Mi arañita, it’s in my blood to keep you here’ he insisted.

‘Nope, can’t use that excuse anymore. I’m not in heat, am I?’ you said. You tried to keep it light by booping his nose with your finger, but Mig remained tense.

‘It’s in my human blood, to keep you here, is what I meant’ he said, his voice dipping. ‘I just want to know you’re safe. I can’t, know, if you’re not here with me.’

Sensing that he was spiralling you put his hand over your chest. He could sense your heart thumping beneath your ribs, small but strong. It seemed to have an instant calming effect.

‘I’m okay. See? I’m okay. And I’m gonna set something up’ you reminded him gently. ‘Right? I’m gonna go get some stuff while I’m at the HQ, like we discussed. You’ll be able to see my vitals on a screen here so you know I’m safe, and we will- test, you being able to call me, because I know if I give you unlimited reign you will call me every second of every hour. But, you know, I’m bringing stuff back to make this easier.’

Mig grumbled and rolled his tongue against his fangs at your reminder. ‘You… are you, sure, they won’t try to keep you away from me?’ he asked.

‘I’m as sure as I can be, Miggy. I mean Jess clearly got annoyed with Miguel for trying to separate us, remember? I don’t think the elite’s care, so long as we’re not endangering anyone. We’re two consenting adults after all.’

‘A monster and his pet’ Miguel grumbled. You couldn’t help but giggle at his sour tone.

‘A consenting adult monster and his consenting adult pet’ you added. Mig didn’t smile with you but you saw him tap his spider legs a few times, which you knew now meant he was happy. It was like a silent laugh for when he was too worried to laugh openly.

‘Hey. Come here’ you whispered.

You gestured for his foreleg and he stretched it out. You took it between both your hands and raised it your lips, pressing a single kiss to the fluffy little paw, showing no sign of fear or disgust. You then gestured for his human hands.

‘Here. Here, babe.’

Mig outstretched his hands, and with his fingers in your grip you kissed each of his claws one after the other. You could sense his body deflating, slowly losing all of that pent up tension as you showed his body the same love you always did.

‘Pretty spider’ you whispered after the final claw was crowned with your lips. When you looked up he was smiling at last.

‘Pretty spider’ he repeated back. You craned your neck and noticed his abdomen was rustling, the fur on his back gently bristling as his middle legs tapped at the floor. You beamed.

‘Mmm. Happy dance’ you noted.

Mig closed his eyes as he smiled, his old, chiselled face growing soft as he made the dance more overt. He tapped his feet back and forth, gently rustling his fluffy body up against your face. You nestled right back. There was nothing better than seeing that little display.

‘Okay, okay. There we go.’ You gently leaned back after giving him a quick squeeze, your hand flying to your watch. You knew you had to make the portal now or you’d never leave.

‘Guess I better get going.’

With a few clicks a portal to the HQ exploded into the centre of the nest, covering your face in that ethereal orange light. You glanced back over your shoulder and saw that Mig had stopped dancing. It hurt your heart, but it had to be done.

‘Can I have a goodbye kiss, please?’ you offered with your hand outstretched on the precipice of the portal. Mig was eager to take it.

‘Ah- yes, of course mi arañita.’

You should have been wise enough to know that this was a double play on his part. The moment your lips connected his hands were on your waist, digging in deep to the soft flesh beneath your suit.

His lips moved slowly, parting before rejoining as they smothered your own. They were so soft compared to the rest of his ruggedness, soft and full and warm. As his tongue teased your mouth they grew wet.

‘Mm—’

His low moan made your knees weak. It vibrated through your lips and into your soul. His lips parted right as you usually would have left, and soon you were entranced by his tongue.

‘Mm- mmm—’

You forgot the portal at your back as Mig gently rumbled against you, his fluffy body vibrating in a way that made your insides tingle. He dug his claws in deeper, a small dose of shock to widen your mouth, allowing his tongue to go right down your throat.

When he pulled back there was a long and heavy trail of spit between you, one that he licked into his mouth without ever breaking eye contact. You felt that pleasurable tension in your gut triple over.

‘Ah—Mig, I know what you’re doing’ you panted.

He’d held you for so long that the portal had closed behind you. You let out a mildly exasperated huff while he tilted his head, his face sickeningly innocent.

‘Doing what? I just wanted to kiss mi arañita goodbye.’

‘You told me you were incapable of lying, Mr.’

‘I am, yes. It’s not a lie’ he said. The earnest affection in his eyes broke you, and a smile crept back onto your face.

‘Mhm. It’s just- leaving out the full truth, right?’

He coyly darted his eyes to the side, forcing you to grab his thickset jaw and turn his head back. You were on your tip toes to reach him.

‘The full truth, is… I don’t want you to go, but, I know you have to. So I will do what I can to keep you here, because I am selfish. And… I will miss you, when you are gone. Because you make me happy. And, I like having you close’ Mig murmured.

‘I know’ you sighed. ‘I know. I’ll miss you too. And I will be back soon. I promise.’

You bumped foreheads once more before pulling back, and this time Mig let you go.

…

As you flew through the dizzying portal you were surprisingly optimistic.

You were going back to the society, and this time you were no longer alone. No matter what you had someone to go home to, someone to talk to, someone to hold you.

Your perspective on the society had also certainly shifted since meeting Mig, and that was something you had to contend with. Knowing that they were hiding things, these cosmic mistakes they didn’t want to deal with, it bothered you to no end. You’d previously viewed the elites as these unfathomable being, who just had to know best because of where they were, but not anymore. Especially in the case of Miguel.

You felt a little bad, but you hadn’t been fully honest with Mig about your intentions. Yes, you were going back to grab some items for him and to show you were available. Yes, you were returning to ensure your relationship was sanctioned.

But you also had something else in mind. Something a bit more personal. Something for the boss to deal with.

You skipped a few steps as your body was thrown from the depths of time and space, your shoes clacking as you hit the HQ floor. You stepped out into the lobby, into a bustling sea of spiders, and you breathed in the familiar smell of Nueva York. It smelled like spandex, like cleaning fluid and cold park air.

You felt the portal close at your back, leaving you standing alone in this great gathering of your peers.

And then you froze.

Almost half the spiders around you were still, their head craned in your direction. You felt the eyes on every inch of your body. You met their gazes through their masks, and despite you clearly looking at them they didn’t turn or look away.

You frowned. What was going on?’

A new sound filled the quiet buzz of conversation, the worst possible sound you could hear. Muffled laughter.

You spun around only for the laughter to stop, and by the time you’d turned back all the spiders were pretending not to have looked at all. They were deep in meaningless conversation, their heads down, and soon you were once again lost in the crowd.

You could feel your face burning, your cheeks hot and clammy.

Oh, fuck. Shit, shit, shit, fuck, shit, fuck. Did they know? How did they know? Who could have told them?

For a moment your blood ran cold. Wait. Had, Miguel, told everyone? To punish you?

In a brewing panic you started to make your way through the HQ.

All the way out of the lobby and up through the dizzying web of beams you felt eyes on you. You occasionally heard laughter but now you couldn’t tell whether it was aimed at you or not, which only spurred your paranoia, and you only continued to spiral further as you went about your objectives.

You stopped by the lab and grabbed the tech you needed for Mig: a watch for him to programme, a monitor for your vitals, and a few old or nearly scrapped holographic screens that you figured he could fix up. All eyes on you, staring at you through screens and over desks. You hurried out.

From there you made a stop at HR, a pretty run-down and disorganised area compared to the rest of the society, where you grabbed some paperwork Jess had ordered you to fill out. You felt eyes peering over piles of paperwork, soft whispers and curious mumbles hidden behind walls as you piled up the work.

By the time you made it to your last stop you could feel the sweat on your lower back from stressing so hard. Around Mig you felt safe, emboldened, but you were realizing quickly that you were still alone here.

You crept into the open research base and dropped into one of the empty desks. You were here, right back where you started, the day you first met Mig.

You thought of him, back in the nest, and your heart twisted. You missed him.

‘You’re the one, right?’

You jumped as an unfamiliar voice sounded off against your ear. Somehow you’d been snuck up on, and three spider-people you’d never met before were crowding around the back of your desk. Their faces immediately put you on edge; they looked far too familiar with you, far too excited.

‘I- the one, what?’ you stammered.

‘You’re the one who- you know—’

You felt your stomach drop as the spiders broke into playful smiles. You tried to push the chair back and run, abandoning the PC while it was still on, but to your horror the other spiders held you in place. You slumped back into the chair as they offered an overlap of fake coos and soothing words.

‘No, no, hey! Please we’re so curious.’

‘Curious about- what? Don’t- grab me!’ you said, inadvertently snapping as you pulled from their grasp. You could feel other people in the room starting to glance over at the commotion, and it was driving your anxiety way up.

‘You had sex with Miguel’s variant, right? The spider one?’ one of them whispered. The spiders holding you in place were practically giddy as they spoke over themselves.

‘We… they’re, all spiders’ you stammered.

‘No, no! You know what we mean. There’s one that’s like fully half spider, right? And you had sex with him?’

‘I—That’s, nobodies business’ you said defensively. Sadly, your tone only spurred them on harder.

'No come on please, oh my god- does he look like Miguel? Is he that big?'

'Does he have the teeth?'

'Oh god, ew, what's the spider part like? Was it like an actual spider?'

'Did you--' 

‘¡OYE!’

You went rigid in your seat, as did the spiders hounding you. Heavy footsteps filled the room as a huge, foreboding shadow slowly covered your body from behind.

‘What’s going on?’

You turned to see Miguel standing over you, his hands on his hips. The spiders almost fell over each other trying to placate him.

‘Hi! Sir, we were just—’

‘It’s fine Miguel we were—’

‘No gossiping. We’re not a rag newspaper, we’re a serious organisation, that does serious work’ Miguel said, his voice slow and cold. ‘Work that I assume you’re currently procrastinating on, since you’re here, and not somewhere else.’

The spiders quickly abandoned your desk, leaving you spinning awkwardly on the spot in your little chair. Miguel had to grab the back to make it stop.

‘Ah, hey, you—’

‘Come with me.’

Miguel didn’t wait for you to respond after cutting you off. He turned and walked in the opposite direction, his presumptuous, authoritative aura gleaming off him like musk.

You thought about saying no, just on principle, but it wouldn’t help. You’d been planning to talk to him anyway. With a slightly reluctant shrug you obeyed.

Miguel led you in silence up through the heart of the HQ building to his office. The whole way you continued to avoid the curious eyes on your back, focusing instead on what you wanted to say to him.

Up the beams, through the corridor filled with anomalies, down the messy side hall and into his office, where at last you were both alone. You shuddered in the gloom, where the only light was a thin lay of blue from above that tinted your skin. It was only here that Miguel finally addressed you directly.

‘I’m sorry they’re bothering you’ Miguel called over his shoulder.

‘Uhuh. Yeah, me too. Strange how they knew’ you said, making no effort to sugarcoat your accusatory tone. Miguel grunted a chuckle as he picked up on the implication.

‘It’s not strange. HR receives filings whenever a relationship needs to be sanctioned, such as- Peter’s and Mary’s receiving crisis training or therapy, or any spiders entering into inter-dimensional relationships. It doesn’t happen often, so when one comes up featuring a Miguel variant and a random spider, and some intern copying it notices the names, they talk. They talk to their friends at lunch, and then they talk to their friends on missions. Suddenly, everyone knows.’

You felt your face burning as he spun this elaborate story. You wanted to believe he was lying, but, it was one thing he and Mig shared in common: they didn’t lie.

‘I didn’t tell anyone’ Miguel grunted as he jumped onto his desk. ‘I understand how- frustrating hormones can be. I don’t blame you for what you had to do.’

‘Uhuh’ you said, your voice wary.

‘I just don’t understand why you’ve still choosing to remain around my counterpart now you’re free’ Miguel continued as he booted up his set, more to himself than to you.

‘Because he’s my friend’ you said sharply.

Miguel glanced over his shoulder, his one visible eye glowing brightly against the dull blue hue. He looked you up and down.

‘I don’t get it’ he repeated in a low murmur. You hated it but his presence still made you slightly weak, and that soft voice was painfully close to how Mig usually spoke.

‘If you were in pain I would have helped’ he said as he turned back around. ‘It’s not like you had no options. Was I really that cold to you?’

You balked at his unexpected confession, especially when said in such a nonchalant way. It was a pretty heavy thing to drop, surely, to admit that he’d sensed your heat and been willing to sleep with you too?

‘You- are you serious?’ you whisper shouted. Your outrage made Miguel chuckle again, something that only made your face warmer.

‘I’m serious, yes. I would have helped.’

‘Oh, oh of course you would have. Just, out of the kindness of your own heart?’

‘More or less.’

You scoffed openly. ‘My god- Do you have no shame? At all?’

Miguel turned again, craning his neck a little further this time to eye you up fully. You saw the thick curve of his back as he arched it.

‘I’d advise you not to be combative’ he murmured. ‘I’m still your superior, and I’m also well aware of what you’ve done. I don’t think you should be the one to tell me about shame.’

‘Why should I be ashamed?! Because I had sex with a nice person I was friends with, because we shared a mutual attraction? Oh my god, how could I!’

‘You let a monster mate with you and almost get you pregnant’ Miguel snapped back, his voice rising ever so slightly.

‘He’s not- a monster’ you said. ‘Not- I mean, physically he is, unusual, but he’s a good person.’

‘You have no idea who that man is’ Miguel impatiently snapped.

‘Yes, I do. Damn it-- He told me! About Dana!’ you blurted.

A brief silence fell as Miguel’s hands went still. Up until this point he’d been typing, casually micro-tasking while you argued at his back, but now he was totally focused on you.

‘He did?’ Miguel repeated back. He sounded shocked, confused, perhaps even impressed?

‘Yes. He- it sounded, horrible. That poor man.’

‘That poor man’ Miguel sneered, his shock quickly turning back to disgust. ‘You didn’t see what I saw. And that’s not your fault, but I’m telling you now, I saw it. The blood on his hands, the blood on his fur, the—face, of—’

Miguel paused and shook his head. ‘He may not have intended to hurt her, but he did. He couldn’t de-escalate, couldn’t control his own strength. He could have ripped the gun out of her hands, or pointed it upwards. His panic killed her.’

‘He was- he was scared, Miguel!’ you argued. ‘He’d just undergone a painful attempt on his life, he was turned into something new, something scary, and then his life was threatened again by someone who was meant to love him!’

‘Yeah, and you know what? I want through the same exact thing’ Miguel spat. ‘I didn’t kill anyo-- … I didn’t, kill, Dana, Did I?’

Internally you were seething. Part of you wanted to just rip into him for what he’d said, for so cruelly bullying Mig for something that wasn’t his fault while making overt passes at you in the same sentence, but you held your tongue.

At least now you didn’t feel at all bad for what you were about to do.

‘I want to- make a proposal’ you said, your voice echoing through the office.

Miguel blinked. His brows went up, slowly, as his eyes darted across your face. He looked surprised. ‘You do, do you?’

You stiffened your resolve as his shadow covered your body. Before you’d have never thought of standing up to your boss like this, and yet, here you were.

‘Yes. I want you to retract the clause that Mig remain isolated from other spiders and people. He’s not a threat and you know that. He deserves the chance to reintegrate, to see that he’s safe to be around other people and to connect with people like him who won’t be afraid. I want you to let him into the society.’

Miguel grunted, his nose wrinkling with disgust. ‘No’ he barked, and immediately he turned.

He thought that would be the end of it, the stubborn fool, but you weren’t interested in begging for permission. If he wanted to play dirty, you would too.

‘Fine’ you said sharply, ‘fine. Let me guess, his genes make him too dangerous?’

‘Wow, newbie, that’s a great point. You’re right. I’ll keep that on record next time someone brings up the idea of letting him join’ Miguel sarcastically drawled. You sneered.

‘Okay. Well, if he has to stay away because his genes make him dangerous, genes that you SHARE, may I remind you, then I suggest for the safety of the society we make it public knowledge.’

You saw Miguel freeze up. He was clearly frightened, as his back muscles popped to indicate he was tensing them tightly, and his biceps were clearly getting more prominent as he clenched his fists.  

You had to steel yourself to approach that terrifying visage.

‘What are you talking about?’ he hissed over his shoulder.

‘You know what I’m talking about’ you said, getting closer with each word. ‘You know that you go into ruts, the same as he does. You know that for all the pressure you put on him to stay away from people, you happily engage in that exact behaviour.’

‘What are you talking about?’ Miguel repeated, this time in a far gravellier voice.

‘I know, you sanctimonious asshole, that you’ve also been sleeping with people during your ruts!’ you whisper shouted, your voice slipping through gritted teeth.

Miguel immediately scoffed, trying to play it off. ‘You don’t have proof of that. I didn’t sleep with you.’

‘No, not- me, Miguel, I have proof. I have proof you’ve done this before.’

‘Oh, do you?’ he asked in that same sarcastic, defensive tone.

‘You decided to threaten me with my own medical records, so clearly that’s allowed, right? So, I can bring up that there are definitely files within the society bay detailing god knows how many other members or workers, filled with the same genetic material, covered in webbing?’

The moment you said ‘webbing’ he tensed up. You’d got him.

‘Perhaps a few, anti-venom prescriptions? Emergency birth control?’

He tensed up further, his head going forward as his shoulders rolled. You continued to push.

‘I don’t think the wider society would be too kind if they knew their boss was going into little, horny breakdowns, and then secretly taking out his frustrations on its members—’

At that Miguel spun around, his clawed hand slamming itself into the desk at your back. In barely a second you went from standing to trapped, your back bent against the desk with his enormous arms on either side of your torso.

‘Do you think you’re better than me?!’ he spat, his fangs dangerously close to your face.

‘Do you think you’re better than me, huh?’

You felt all of your previous convictions slip in his presence. God he was terrifying. He wasn’t nearly as big as Mig but he was huge compared to you, easily pinning your body to the desk. You felt the cold metal press into your spine as he bent you back, and your eyes instinctively drifted to his fangs.

You swallowed, hard, and were met with the strangest look in his eyes. He seemed ashamed, almost, as he realized you were scared of him, and yet there was something else there. Something more complicated.

You struggled to claw back a semblance of your previous anger.

‘You know what? No. Not in that sense. But that’s my point. We’re the same, you’re just a—’

‘Don’t say it’ he hissed.

‘Hypocrite’ you spat back in his face. With a frustrated grunt he pulled away.

‘I don’t put anyone at risk of spreading my genes!’ he said, his voice rising with his annoyance. ‘And I don’t touch anyone who I could hurt!’

‘How can you know that?’

‘Because they’re all men!’ Miguel blurted. He had to pause to breathe, his hands now gripped tight to his hips. ‘Or- at the very least they’ve had their reproductive organs taken care of. And they’re my friends, I never- I never approach anyone I don’t know and trust. I just… sometimes, I have to—have, something. Just one. But I’ve never- slipped and, indulged in anyone the way your sweet, innocent Mig has.’

‘You- but you JUST said you would have helped me out too’ you argued back. Miguel scoffed again.

‘I didn’t mean sex. I would have- offered something, for relief, because I know how much it hurts. I can control myself, but I’d rather not smell someone else going through the same agony, that’s all.’

‘Look, my— my point is, you do the same thing you accused Mig of doing. You don’t get to keep him out of the society if you’re allowed to be its head’ you said, trying to bring the subject back around.

‘He killed someone’ Miguel hissed.

‘And you exonerated him, because he was acting in self defence!’ you spat. This time your rage drove you forward, and you slammed your hand down on the desk beside Miguel, caging his tiny waist between your arms.

‘We are dangerous’ Miguel said, his voice even colder than usual. ‘We are not, safe. We are not supposed to be in relationships. I tried to tell you this, but if you won’t listen, I can’t help you.’

‘Oh, I’m the one who needs help?’

To your horror, Miguel suddenly let out a deeply sardonic chuckle. He bent so that his lips brushed your ear, and you froze as he spoke.

‘You fucked a spider’ he whispered slowly. ‘You found a version of your boss, who was half arachnid, and you let it fuck you. Furry legs and all. You nearly let it impregnate you. Yes, you need help.’

‘He.’

Miguel’s eyes darted, barely an inch from yours. You met them. You were shaking, yes, but you still stared him down.

‘He. Not it. I let him, fuck me’ you repeated.

You relished, secretly, in the deep resentment that crossed Miguel’s face. He looked jealous.

‘Why… Why, him?’

You blinked, taken aback by Miguel’s veiled question. You were expecting more vitriol, but instead his face sank as he pulled away from you.

‘What do you mean, why him?’ you asked.

‘You were in heat. I smelled it. You should have been drawn to my scent, but you turned and you ran. You ran back to him.’

You decided to let Miguel hang there for a moment, just to ponder how you should approach this.

‘If you ask that question honestly, I’ll answer’ you said slowly.

Miguel stiffened his jaw and stepped forward again. He was too curious to not take the bait. ‘Why? Why would you pick him over me?’

There it was. The most overt thing he’d ever admit. It wasn’t even really about you, was it? It was about his ego. It was about the fact that in that moment, when he’d grabbed you after your hospital trip, you’d been able to turn him down. You’d stayed loyal to Mig, and not just given in to your animal need so Miguel could satisfy himself with your body.

You could have given him a full lecture on why. His coldness, his mean streak, his little bursts of empathy that were never enough compared to Mig’s constant kindness. The way Mig gave you multiple chances to leave while Miguel grabbed you by the wrist, the way Mig praised you and thanked you and wished to acknowledge your relationship openly without shame while Miguel offered only a shameful coupling he would sooner forget.

You could have said so much. In the end, though, you just shrugged. ‘He’s hotter than you’ you said.

Silence filled Miguel’s office. At first his face was unreadable, but slowly, a smile crept onto his lips. It was an unnerving smile, the ghost of something cruel and cold.

‘Oh. Okay. Okay.’

You took a step back as Miguel turned back to his desk. The orange glow was eerie around the contours of his figure, highlighting his terrifying back muscles one by one as he rolled them.

‘Alright. You can have him here. And I won’t keep people off your back anymore. If you want to know, why I keep what I do quiet, why I keep my partners quiet, you can find out your way.’

You snorted. ‘Deal. Done. That’s all I needed from you.’

You left him there, alone on the desk, and you hurried back to the wider HQ, unaware of the new war you’d started for yourself. Link to next part!

[corvuscryptid]

Last Day of Summer

Word count: 1468

Ford Pines x GN! Reader (no gender specification)

Age 5 (Glass Shard Beach, New Jersey)

          Today was the last day of summer before your first day of Kindergarten. You were quite nervous to say the least. To celebrate your last day of freedom, your mom decided to drag you to the beach to look for seashells. The ride over to the beach, you ride in the backseat, the windows are rolled down and upbeat, dancey music can be heard from the radio. Once you had reached the beach, your mother parks the car and helps you grab the towels, a mat, two matching straw hats, and a bucket.

          “You think we’ll find anything cool?” You ask your mom, doubting your luck on today’s excursion.

          “I am most certain we will,” she says and looks down at you with a smile. “If you believe that we will find something cool, then you’ll find it easy to be amazed by what we find.”

          You take in her words, quietly, both of you taking off your flip flops to begin the trek to the water in the sand. The sand is powdery soft and it almost burns your feet from the sun. The sky is a gentle blue and dotted across the horizon were puffy white clouds. You hear the gentle breathing of the waves grow louder as you and your mom arrive at the shore. She lays down the mat and shifts her gaze to you.

          “Now (Y/N), I need you to stay in sight of me, okay?”

          You nod, heeding her words. “I won’t leave your sight Mama.” You say, grabbing the small metal bucket as you scamper away, in an attempt to find shells. You are walking for a while— gaze trained on the ground before you find yourself smacking into another kid your age. You are met with captivating brown eyes as you glance up gaze at the ground. You jump back and find two identical pairs eyes staring into your (E/C) eyes.

          “Hi!” You say, excitedly. “Sorry for running into you.” You say, sweetly to the pair. The one you knocked into had a bandaid on his cheek. Both boys are flush in the face, as if they weren’t used to being acknowledged in a respectful manner.

          You are met with a silence. “My name is (Y/N).”

          “I’m Stanley,” the one with the bandaid says. “This is my twin brother, Stanford.”

          You peer at Stanley, curiously, and you can see that, without a doubt, the two boys are identical in appearance. However, Stanley makes confident eye contact with you, while his brother, Stanford, sheepishly keeps his gaze on the wet sand in front of you, his hands clasped tightly behind his back.

          “It’s really nice to meet you.” You say, a smile finding its way to your mouth. Friends are never a bad thing to be in excess of in Glass Shard Beach. Stanley beams proudly and offers you his hand to shake— mirroring the action you’ve seen countless adults adopt. Stanford opts to not shake your hand, although he offers you a sweet smile, the cleft in his chin adorned by the beautiful grin that finds his face.

          “We’re starting Kindergarten tomorrow in Ms. McGucket’s class.” Stanley says, with the grin still on his lips.

          “No way!” You say, excitedly. “That’s my class! I was worried I wouldn’t know anyone.”

          Now, it is Stanford’s turn to smile. “That is good,” the boy says in a quiet voice. “I was scared that I would only have my brother as a friend.”

          You can’t help but beam. “We can all hang out together and spend recess together!”

          Stanley giggles and Stanford smiles. You look at each brother, carefully. “What are you two up to anyway?”           It is Stanford’s turn to speak. “Well, actually,” he begins. “We are looking for an adventure to embark on.”

          You marvel at the boy’s words, (E/C) eyes locked onto his brown ones. “What kind of adventure?”

          Stanford doesn’t even hesitate before saying, “We’re gonna find the Jersey devil!”

          You pause, looking at both boys. Stanford is beaming, and Stanley is looking away, sheepishly, like he was embarrassed.

          You had heard of the Jersey devil, but thought it was just a rumor, you said as much to the boys. Stanley nods and Stanford is the one who pipes up, “We have heard from friends that their possessions have started going missing. We wouldn’t have started looking into it, but our parents are also missing jewels in their pawn shop.”

          You take in Stanford’s observations, inquisitively, reflecting on your own experiences. “I don’t have any interactions with the Jersey Devil, but I would love to help you both.” You say with a soft smile on your face, especially if it meant that you could keep the two boys around.

          “Technically speaking, the cryptid is supposed to live in the forests, but Stanley here wanted to go to the beach!” Stanford says, and shoves his brother, playfully, as he says his name.

          “My mom took me to the beach to celebrate the last day of summer.” You tell the boys and glance back to find your mom, who is reading a book while lounging on the beach mat. “I wanted to find something cool or pretty shells, although friends are probably better to find, anyway.”

          Both the boys smile widely at this, and you breathe a sigh of relief. Two new friends to march into the school year with was something to be proud of. “Well, if Stanford is right and the devil won’t be here, I suppose we could help look for shells.” Stanley says, with a toothy grin as he eyes your empty bucket. “Whattaya say, Fordsy?”

          Stanford becomes beet red at this, which only caused Stanley to laugh and grin harder. You marvel at Stanley. “You have the brightest smile I have ever seen.”

          Now it is Stanley’s turn to redden. “What?”

          “I just think you look nice when you smile.” You say, laughing. You turn and start looking at the ground, trying to find shells. Stanford chuckles at his brother’s speechlessness. You guess that this doesn’t happen that often. You walk a little way away from the Pines brothers, but you can hear that they both follow you. “Ooo, look at this purple one!”

          You show it to both boys. They peer at the purple lion’s paw seashell that you hold gracefully between your index and thumb. Stanley plucks it from your hands and puts it close to his face, turning it around. He does the same thing for his brother.

          Thirty minutes later, your mom glances up from her novel. There you were in your matching straw hat, eyes on the sandy ground with two young boys. She smiles, happy that you seemingly made some friends in your short time here. Her eyes flit back to her book, feeling more confident in you with your search partners.

          “I think I found a cool one!” Stanford excitedly announces, running over to you. He is holding a beautiful conch shell in near perfect condition. Your eyes catch something else, though.

          “Woah!” you shout. “How’d you get extra fingers, I want extra fingers!”

          Stanford is the color of wine at this point. He drops the conch shell which lands on the wet sand softly. He clasps his hands behind his back again, eyes trained on the ground. You sense the change in his attitude, and you know that you have done something wrong. Biting your lip you walk beside Stanford and put a hand on his shoulder. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings. I should have not said anything.”

          Your eyes meet Stanley’s who is looking at his brother with pity. He offers you a smile, but you don’t return it. “Sixer here gets made fun of a lot for his hands. He is already pretty insecure about them.”

          Stanford nods, wordlessly. “I’m sorry. I saw and just was amazed. I have only seen people with five fingers, you must be rare! I just got jealous cause like, I want more fingers!” you say, moving your arm to frame the back of his neck, bringing him closer to you. “I don’t want this to hurt our friendship at all.”

          “You think my hands are cool?” Stanford says, incredulously.

          You snort. “Well, duh! You’ve got to be like real good at holding stuff. Plus like, I wish I was special like you.”

          Stanford meets your eyes, and this is when you notice how close you two are. “You think I’m special?”

          You smile softly, and say matter-of-factly “Most definitely, and mostly because you’re my friends.”

          You didn’t notice but Stanford takes his hands from behind his back. “Thank you.” He says quietly and moves away from you. “Now let’s look for some more shells!”

[maddy-k-reads-all-day]

Bedtime snacks!

Okay… I had some time and Amanda seemed upset when I did my homework before watching the next tape but… wow. That… that was hard. I don’t remember Riley saying the puzzles were this hard. Okay… maybe I felt they were exaggerating because I know they hate puzzles… but I love puzzles! So like… it shouldn’t be this hard right? Sophie thinks. But now she finally has it. The next tape, titled Bedtime Snacks! 

I’m going to need a bedtime snack after this… Sophie thinks to herself. Looking at the time. She puts the next tape into the VCR and it starts to play. The tape begins with Wooly laying in bed, staring at the ceiling. He eventually notices Sophie. 

“Oh, hi there friend! Are there ever times where you feel like you just can’t sleep?” he asks. Sophie types in yes. “Yeah… heh heh… it happens all the time. It’s like your thoughts are just whirling around in your head and they just won’t stop! Well… sometimes it’s not even that. Sometimes I just… wait and wait and wait… and I just don’t fall asleep. It’s kind of annoying honestly.” 

Honestly I just stay up really late on my phone or doing assignments and suddenly it’s morning. We’re not the same. Sophie thinks. 

“What do you do when you can’t sleep?” he asks, but no text box appears so Sophie stays quiet. Wooly stands there awkwardly. “Um… good for you? I think? Um anyway, I think a nice bedtime snack can sometimes be good. Like some milk and cookies! But don’t tell Amanda okay? If she finds out we had cookies without her she’ll be really upset.” 

“Maybe you could invite her?” Sophie suggests. Wait, I'm not supposed to talk!

“Well she’s sleeping, and I think she’d be more upset if I woke her up so… hmm… let’s just keep this between us okay?” Sophie types in yes. Wooly smiles. “Don’t go telling Amanda behind my back, okay?” Okay Sophie types. “Ooookay then. Let’s go to the kitchen!” the tape glitches to the kitchen. Wooly is quiet for a bit, as if contemplating something. 

“Milk is so much better at night when it’s warm…” he whispers. “But we don’t have a microwave… so I guess it’ll have to be cold.” Wooly pouts. Sophie clicks on the stove. “I… I’m confused, what do you want me to do?” she clicks it again. “You can talk, you know, I won’t get mad.” 

“You can heat up the milk in a saucepan on the stovetop.” she explains. Wooly’s eyes light up with excitement. Then he stops. 

“But… we really shouldn’t be using the stove without an adult…” he mumbles. His face contorts a bit in frustration, “but it’s been forever since I’ve gotten to make myself a warm cup of milk…” 

He sounds like he’s arguing with himself Sophie thinks. 

“Mmm… weeeeelll. You’re an adult right? So it should be fine! Just… don’t tell Amanda okay?” 

This really isn’t going to help Amanda trust me… but okay… Sophie thinks. “Do you need any help?” 

“Yeah… maybe… I’ve only ever done this in a microwave…” Wooly answers. 

“You’ve done this before?” 

“Yeah I used to have warm milk with my little sister every night… then I’d read her a story… We had this whole routine. She couldn’t fall asleep without it… honestly neither could I… mmmm….” he pauses, “being able to remember her again after so long is weird… but I think I’m starting to see why Amanda wanted to remember her dad and Kate so much…” he stays quiet for a moment, as if reminiscing. Sophie gives him a moment. “So… what do we do?” he asks. 

“Well, like I said, you heat up the milk in a saucepan over the stovetop on low heat…” 

“Great! Can you help me find the saucepan? Is it under the sink, in the fridge, or in the stove?” Sophie clicks under the sink. “That’s… right.” Wooly says, a little surprised by this. He goes under the sink and gets the saucepan. “Now… Could you tell me where the milk is?” Sophie clicks on the fridge. Wooly smiles. “Hehe, great job. Now could you tell me where the measuring cup is?” Sophie clicks on the cupboard. “Wow, right again! You’re a master at this!” 

Honestly I have no idea where any of your stuff is. I'm just picking what I think is the most logical answer. Sophie thinks to herself. 

“Can I tell you a secret? Honestly climbing and grabbing stuff from high places always makes me super nervous… could you grab it for me?” he asks. Sophie clicks and drags the measuring cup down onto the counter. “Awww thanks! You’re so nice! Alright. We need one cup of milk. Can you help me pour it?” Wooly starts pouring the milk in and Sophie clicks on it once it reaches one cup. “Perfect!” Then Wooly pours the milk into the saucepan. “You know what? I like you way better than Riley. Usually Riley always teases us and keeps picking the wrong answers on purpose! But you’re actually helpful!” 

Riley… Sophie thinks to herself. “Yeah Riley tends to tease people they care about. It’s kind of their way of showing love.” Sophie laughs. 

“Well I find it really annoying!” Wooly pouts, “Ah! But don’t tell them that, okay? Um… what do I do next?” 

“You have to simmer it on low heat until it reaches the desired temperature.” Sophie answers. Wooly pauses for a moment, as if considering something. 

“Hey, why don’t you make some warm milk with me?” he suggests. Sophie looks confused. “Turn around,” he whispers. She turns around and realizes there’s a toy mini stove and plastic saucepan behind her. Toys from when she was growing up. 

That’s right… After mom died, dad started using the shelter like it was an attic or something… next to it is a plastic saucepan. She puts the mini-stove dial on low heat and puts the saucepan on it. “Should I… get some milk?” 

“NO! Heh heh… just make believe, okay? Trust me…” Wooly whispers nervously. Sophie comes back to the tv and sits down. “While I watch the milk, can you get the cookies from the cupboard for me?” Sophie clicks and drags the cookies down on the counter. Wooly glances over his shoulder and sees them. “Ah! The milk is done! Which color cup should I use?” Sophie picks blue. “Ah… blue is…” the tape glitches, “nice…” 

Did I make a mistake? Sophie wonders. Wooly pours the milk into the blue cup. He dips the cookie into the milk and takes a bite. Then he takes a big sip of milk. 

“Aaaaaaaaah… this is the LIFE! Honestly… sometimes I can’t get why Amanda wants to leave SO badly! Just give me warm milk and some bubble baths and I might never want to leave.” he sighs. 

“Well you can get plenty of those in the real world too.” Sophie laughs. 

“That’s true… hmm…” Wooly says thoughtfully, as if daydreaming about all the other things he could do, “Thanks for spending time with me Sophie… I don’t like being alone at night.” 

“No problem Wooly.” she replies. 

“Really? It’s not a burden?”

“Not at all.” she smiles. He seems really happy to hear this. 

“This is nice. I haven’t gotten to do this since… well… since before my sister… well… Riley probably already told you…” 

“Yeah…” 

“I know this is going to sound really weird… but it feels nice to have someone to talk to. I mean there’s Amanda… but up until recently we weren’t even friends anymore… and even now it still feels… awkward. And Riley… eeeeeeeeh… I don’t hate them but… I don’t know… you’re different. I feel comfortable around you… you feel safe…” 

“Aww Wooly I’m flattered.” “Hey um… Sophie… Can I talk to you about something? Can I… vent a bit?”

“Sure Wooly.” Oh?

“This is going to sound awful but… this place… was the first place I ever felt safe.” Wooly confesses. “I mean, it was because I didn’t have my memories but still… It was a safe place. And Amanda… was the first person I ever felt like I could lean on. She was safe too. I mean… before that all I had was my little sister and… she needed me to be strong so…I was always either taking care of someone else or on my own. And for once… I felt like I had a friend. Someone I could lean on… even just a little…” 

“I see…” Sophie responds. 

“And then… she ruined it… they all ruined it. Making us remember that this world wasn’t real and we were. And sometimes… I really hate them for it. They were trying to do what was best for us but… they didn’t think any of it through… why screw everything up if you can’t fix it?” Wooly grumbles, then he stops, “Oh, I’m sorry. I know they were just trying to help… and I know you mom died trying to help us… wow that was really horrible of me right? You must hate me now.” 

“I don’t hate you.” Sophie says, “To tell you the truth I… also resent my mom a bit.” 

“Huh?” 

“She was willing to do anything to save you guys… even if it killed her… she didn’t mind dying for this but… what the people she left behind. Her family. Me. Honestly I resented Hameln and… you guys too a little for the longest time. Why do some random kids in a TV show matter more?” 

“I get it… I am mad at my mom too… I mean…  she abandoned us… she was never there… she always just left when things hurt too much… but we needed her… if she had only just been around… maybe she wouldn’t have kil-… maybe things would be different.” Wooly sighs. “Sophie?” 

“Yes?” 

“Can I ask a question?” 

“Go ahead.” 

“What do you do when you feel… too many feelings? Too strongly? All at once?” Wooly asks. 

“What do you mean?” 

“I mean… I feel happy. Amanda and I are friends again. We might actually be able to escape… things might get better but… I also feel… sad… about my memories… and betrayed by what Amanda and Riley did… and… and…” Wooly stops, “Ever since I started really getting my memories back… I don’t know what it is… but sometimes- all the time? I just feel this… something bubbling up inside…  like… I don’t want to blame anybody but…” Wooly glares at his cup of milk. “Then there’s Hameln… and all the things they did and Am-” he stops, the look on his face suggests that he felt like he was just about to say something horrible. “Amanda.” he says it very slowly and carefully, like it’s some cursed word that should never ever be spoken. “I can’t believe I put those two in the same sentence…” he mutters. Wooly grips his cup tightly, watching little ripples form in the milk. “I thought once I made amends with her… my safe space would come back but… after all the things she did… it’s like… I can’t trust her anymore. I don’t want to be mad at my best friend… but… UGH! I hate it! I hate it so much! I shouldn’t be thinking like this!” 

“It’s totally normal to be upset when someone does something bad to you… sometimes it takes time to forgive them… and that’s okay…”

“But… being angry about it won’t fix anything.”

“It’s still okay to be mad…  I mean… it’s not healthy to hold onto that anger-”

“I’m trying to let it go… really…” 

“But it’s not healthy to hold it all in.” Sophie says, Wooly looks conflicted. “Hey… you okay?” 

“Honestly? Honestly? No.” Wooly chuckles sadly, burying his face into his hands, his voice cracking a bit. “I hate this… I hate it here… I hate everything. I’m scared to leave and yet… I don’t want to stay…”

“That is… complicated.” These kids need a therapist… Sophie thinks. 

“I… feel like she brings out the worst in me… like I want to just explode… and she makes me wanna do it. Even if just for a minute… to just scream at the world till my lungs burst… She asks me if I’m mad… I am mad… I’m mad at… everything. At Amanda, at Hameln, at my parents, at all the stupid adults who never listened and never cared, at all the adults who said they were going to help but only made things worse, at Riley, at… at… but I can’t… I can’t do it… I just can’t live like that…” Wooly stops, “I’m jealous… Amanda can just let it all out… I don’t know how she does that… She’s just as trapped as me… and yet she always seems so free…” 

“Maybe you should talk to her about this?” Sophie suggests. 

“No, I’m fine. Everything’s fine. I just needed to vent a bit. That’s it. That’s all, really.” 

“Are you sure?” Sophie asks, Wooly pauses. 

“Sophie? Do you really think we can get out of here?”

“Um…” 

“Sometimes I don’t even know if I want to… I just… hate uncertainty so much.” 

“Me too…” 

“Sometimes… I wish… that when Amanda killed me… I had just stayed gone…” Wooly mumbles, “At least that way… I wouldn’t have to feel anything again. That way I wouldn’t have to remember… all of this… why did she make me remember? Why did I have to? I just… I…”

“Wooly…” “I’m sorry. That got really dark, huh? Guess I’m no good at this kids show stuff after all… heh heh… but um… thanks for listening, really. It means a lot.” Wooly smiles, “I think… I can… yawn go to… sleep now… could you… tuck me in?” 

“Sure.” Sophie says softly. They glitch to Wooly’s room and she clicks on the blankets. Wooly lets out one last big yawn and says… “Goodnight.” Sophie expects the tape to end but the tape glitches to Amanda in the kitchen. 

“You had milk and cookies without me?” Amanda mumbles, sounding hurt. 

“I’m sorry, it was Wooly’s idea.” 

“I know…” 

“Oh.” 

“I knew it… he is mad…” Amanda sighs. 

“I…” 

“He doesn’t talk to me about anything anymore…” Amanda cries. 

“I’m sorry…?” Sophie wasn’t sure what to say. 

“No… thanks for listening to him… I guess you aren’t so bad…” Amanda says. “I just… I…” 

“You should talk. Both of you…” 

“Mmm…” Amanda looks away. 

“I mean it.” 

“I’ve tried but…” 

“Try again. Keep trying. Don’t give up.” Sophie says encouragingly. Amanda smiles. 

“Thanks Sophie.” the tape ends and falls out of the VCR. She looks behind her at the toy mini-stove, now in the saucepan is a new tape titled: Lunchtime. 

Ah… so that’s why he said no milk. 

Author's note: Alright. That's the last fic for a while. Hope you enjoyed a little fluff there. As I wrote this fic, I found myself slowly creating this interesting dynamic. Amanda really only fully trusts Riley, and Wooly only fully trusts Sophie. Maybe they can use that to their advantage? But wow... Wooly's feeling... A LOT lately... 

Also, trying out some new formatting with the thoughts. Do you like it or should I go back to the old method?

Also... yeah I deleted this post and rewrote the Wooly vents scene. Heh heh...

[babysbreath]

focus

➶ oikawa tooru x reader

➶ fluff

Oikawa loves these small parties. They feel personal, an evening to pause and relax in between busy schedules. 

A few of his friends are talking to you in front of a wall plastered with polaroids, pointing out familiar faces and funny poses in the photos. One of Oikawa’s roommates had the idea to take a polaroid of everyone who visited their shared apartment and it proved to be quite the attraction.

You laugh, shaking your head, at something one of his friends said. They turn around, eyes scanning the living room until they land on Oikawa. 

“Hey, come over for a second,” they call out. 

When he’s finally there, one of them asks, pointing at the polaroid of you. “When you took this photo of her, didn’t you already have a crush on her?” 

Tongue poking into the side of his cheek, he slowly realises that he’s walked into a challenging situation. He turns to gauge your reaction and you’ve got the biggest grin on your face. Oh, so you’re enjoying this. 

“Come on, that was what- almost two years ago?” He points at his roommate on the couch,  “She was just one of his friends at the time.” 

His response comes out calmly, like he’s unaffected by the question. Or like he’s practised it enough to sound casual.

“You didn’t say ‘no’ though.” They won’t back down easily. 

He knows they’re trying to get him to admit that he took way too long to ask you out. You take a sip of your drink, purposely peering at him over the rim of the glass. 

He straightens his shoulders, trying not to break into a grin.

 “Just 6 months ago, I started to like a certain someone-” 

Someone grumbles audibly. Probably you. Nevertheless, he continues.

“-and like any reasonable adult, I waited a few days before I asked her out.”

A friend slaps his back, cackling at his expense. “Sure, sure. You definitely liked her back then but you were too scared to make a move.” 

He sighs and he feels laughter bubbling at the back of his throat. His tongue still prods at his cheek, almost letting out a chuckle.

He can’t afford to be betrayed by his own body so he clears his throat, adopting a straight face to say, “Why does it even matter? We’re together now, aren’t we?”  

To demonstrate this, he pulls you closer by the waist, hoping the action will put all these questions to rest. The fact that you’re leaning into him is an added bonus. You rest your head on his chest, sighing contentedly before you look at his friends. 

“He’s lying,” you declare, and you can practically feel Oikawa’s face whip towards you.

The group erupts into cheers, unable to contain their excitement at the look of disbelief on Oikawa’s face. 

“How do you know?”

“He’s twisting his mouth. See?” You point at his lips and then at his cheek. “He sticks his tongue to the side of his cheek when he’s trying not to laugh. Obviously, he’s trying not to laugh because he’s lying.”

He frowns at you, pout immediately put on display since you’ve decided to reveal all his secrets. 

“That’s a damning allegation,” he groans. 

“They deserve to know the truth, babe.” You plant a kiss on his cheek, momentarily healing his wounded pride, before you walk away to mingle with others. 

He turns back to his friends, and by the looks on their faces, he’s never going to live this down. 

The conversation soon turns to the polaroid camera itself. 

One of his roommates chimes in. 

“It’s somewhere in the apartment. At least, I hope so.” 

Oikawa hadn’t even realised that the camera had been lost. He makes a mental note to look for it in his room, just in case. 

However, his mind is too preoccupied with other things at the moment, like looking around for you. He tries not to make it obvious but once the crowd dwindles down, he spots you by his bedroom door and makes a beeline for it. 

You look surprised as you enter the room with him. “Hi, again. Also, I think I left my phone on your bed.”

He moves the pillows around as you scan the room for your belongings. 

“Wait, it might have fallen through this gap,” he says, pointing at the space between his bed and the wall. After getting a good grip on the corner of the bed frame, he pulls it away from the wall, showing almost no sign of exertion. You peek at the flex of his muscles, silently thanking his volleyball career, before peeking past him at the spot where your phone should be. He hands your phone to you before reaching down again. 

“Oh look, it’s the polaroid camera.”

You scrunch up your nose, handing him a tissue to wipe the dust off. 

“Why’s it there?”

“No clue. It probably rolled under the bed.”

You hum. “Ah okay, I’m gonna leave then.” 

You lean towards him, hoping to quickly kiss him goodbye, but he firmly holds you in place.

“I just got an idea.”

He feels your body slump in his hold, in an attempt to plop down on the bed. You whine something halfheartedly about wanting to go home, an arm draped over your eyes for dramatic flair. He laughs inwardly at the mannerisms you’re clearly picking up from him.

“It’ll just take a minute. Come on.”

You peek at him from underneath your arm, only to see that he’s already got his eyes on you. He pulls you up with the utmost care and then holds the instant camera at arm’s length.

Noticing your confused expression, he shrugs. “What? We don’t have a polaroid picture together.”

Satisfied with his own explanation, he holds you by the chin and turns your face towards his. His lips part slightly and it finally hits you. Warmth blossoms in your chest as you press your lips against his, chin still resting between his fingers as the camera clicks. He lets you go, a smile lingering on both your faces. The whirring of the picture being printed snaps you out of your daze. 

“Let it develop then I’m keeping it.” Oikawa places it on his bedside table and then starts getting up when he feels his sleeve being pulled back lightly. 

“You’re keeping it? I don’t get one?”

“Do you want another picture or do you just want another kiss?” He wiggles his eyebrows at you, like the mature adult he is. 

You let your gaze fall to his mouth. “Maybe both.” 

You tilt your face to meet his, as he pulls you in. Fingers wrap around your waistline, cold as they rest on your exposed midriff. 

You can barely hear his voice over the music from the living room.

 “Cute top, by the way.”

You giggle. “I knew you'd like it. So predictable.”

He huffs. You squish his cheeks between your palms before he pins your hands to the side and steals a peck. All his attention is on you and he makes sure you know that, deepening each kiss till you’re gasping for breath.

He leans back and mutters, forcing your weight to shift towards him. “I think we’ll get tired of it, if we kiss too much.”

Before he can even think about the action, his tongue subconsciously presses against the inside of his cheek. He’s having fun with this game.

You smile, the same way he does when he’s got the upperhand. The same way that tells him that he likes you a lot.

You tap the side of his cheek with your finger.

 “Liar.” 

The liar gets kissed, again and again. He never gets tired of it.

[cal-daisies-and-briars]

🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓

105 for 🐓:

---

Funny enough, it goes just like it used to. 

“You’re selfish and impulsive and have zero concern about anyone else.”

“You think it’s funny, just disappearing like that? Not answering your phone?”

“You’re not a child anymore, Evan, but you still act like one.”

As a kid, he had cried. As a young teenager, he’d taken pride in their anger. Scorn. Like good, feel something. As an older teen and young adult, he’d fought back. But now, he just stands there in front of him, letting the whole thing wash over him. Like he deserves it. Maybe he does. Deserve it. He didn’t as a kid, but maybe he does now. 

“Sorry,” he eventually mumbles flatly. “I just thought all my moping and sulking wasn’t doing enough to ruin Christmas. Had to figure out a different way to steal Maddie’s attention, you know?”

Instead of seeming embarrassed that he obviously overheard them shit-talking him, they seem enraged that he would bring it up. The lecturing continues. 

“Incredibly shallow and self-centered…”

“...Don’t know how we can ever be expected to have any sort of relationship with someone this vindictive!”

“We have tried!” 

And he understands their meaning. They’re done with trying. The farce is over. They can all stop pretending this has ever intentionally included him. It’s always been about Maddie and access to their grandkids. Maybe that will be a relief, at the end of the day. No more pity invites. No more trying to curl himself into a tighter, more acceptable shape. He can simply be unbothered, alone. 

“Okay,” he says quietly. “I’ll go in the morning, then.”

“We’re not kicking you out,” Margaret sighs. “Don’t make it sound like that’s what we’re doing.”

“Okay,” Buck agrees. “But isn’t that what you want?”

They deny it. But it takes a little too long for them to respond. They have to actually consider. And the thing is, Buck doesn’t. He doesn’t have to wonder at all what the hesitation is. 

“I’ll be out of your hair in the morning,” Buck says, then he turns around and stomps upstairs. 

⬅️

He showers quickly and quietly. He stares at the white bathroom tiles until his eyes hurt. He feels like garbage. Not just body wise. He just feels like garbage. Period. 

He can’t fall asleep right away, so he deals with his flight. The layover will suck, and he won’t get home until the middle of the day on Christmas, but whatever. He changes it. He’d rather be alone than here. And, maybe… Maybe Bobby’s offer still stands. 

Eventually, he puts the phone away, but he still can’t sleep. He finds himself crying. Even though he feels sort of dehydrated and like crying is probably unadvisable. 

He thought he was being quiet, but apparently not so much. Because around three, there’s a soft knock on his door. At first, his instinct is to fake sleep. To avoid his parents at all costs. But he’s not a kid anymore. They’re not going to check on him or tell him to sleep. So that leaves only one realistic option.

The door cracks open.

“Buck?” Maddie says quietly. 

Buck sits up in bed but doesn’t even bother turning on the light. He can picture her easily. Standing there in pink, snowflake print pajamas, the beginnings of a baby bump concealed by the loose fabric, worried expression on her face. 

“I’m fine,” Buck rasps, lying. 

“Well, we can hear you crying, so…”

Buck groans. “Sorry.”

“Not the person whose crying I expected to wake me,” Maddie admits. She walks over and sits on the edge of Buck’s bed. “But it’s okay. Hard to get back to sleep after Mom and Dad’s yelling, anyway.”

Buck doesn’t say anything. She heard it all then.

“I’m sorry,” Maddie says. “I wanted to keep an eye on you over the holidays, but this… This just made everything worse.”

“I’m an adult, Maddie. I could have said no.”

He did, after all, have a warning and another option.

“I should have…” Maddie struggles. “I don’t know. Prevented this.”

“I overheard what they said to you and Chim,” Buck says. “I can’t win, Maddie. I didn’t do anything. So it doesn’t really matter.”

“You’re not really leaving are you?” She asks.

“Already changed my flight,” Buck explains. 

“I’m sorry,” Maddie says again. 

Buck sighs. “Maddie, I knew what I was doing when I came here.”

“What does that mean?” She asks.

“It means… It means I knew they only invited me, through you, because they wanted you to come. It means I know they don’t like me, and don’t really love me,” Buck says. “Or, maybe they do… But, they really don’t like who I am. They try, but they don’t. And it’s… I guess it’s the confirmation I was looking for.”

“Of what?” Maddie asks. 

“That I’m not really what anyone wants around. Not for long.”