#when am I going to actually bring them to the table???

[hellfire--cult]

It was your first ever thanksgiving with Eddie, and you sadly had to work the day before and part time on the same day of the festivity. You were completely destroyed you couldn't cook anything at all for Eddie and Wayne, but--

Eddie outdid himself.

He made the turkey the day before, the smell of it filling up your nostrils when you entered your small apartment. The pumpkin pie was ready to be put in the oven the next day where you worked in the morning.

When you came back from work in the afternoon, there were mashed potatoes with gravy on the table as well, a green bean casserole, and the turkey, and Wayne brought in homemade bread and a pumpkin pie for the fridge.

You could almost cry from how amazing Eddie was to you, knowing you would be stressed from work, and going out of his way to get recipes and follow the steps like a soldier. When you chewed on the turkey, your eyes filled with tears from delight, because it was delicious, and emotion, turning to talk to him,

"We could of ordered stuff, you didn't have to do it all alone." And he was confused at your comment but smiled, kissing your shoulder.

"You don't deserve a pizza for Thanksgiving. You deserve this and if I wasn't running out of time, I would of cooked more things for you." Wayne was only rolling his eyes at the sweet filled interaction and you were just looking at your boyfriend with adoration in your eyes.

"Why?"

"Because I love you and like I said, you deserve the best and I will be the one to bring that for you. Now shut up and eat."

Oh, but another feeling surged through you. This man wanted to take care of you, love on you, dote on you, protect you, pamper you, and just make you the happiest person in the world. You looked down at the stuffed turkey on your plate--

You were impatient now. His laughter and his voice when he talked, his mannerisms of giving a squeeze to your hand or your thigh, and you didn't want to be mean but-- You needed Wayne to go. Your love for Eddie was exploding in other ways, keeping it romantic, but you were in need of showing it to him.

So when Wayne finally left, Eddie sighed and started picking the left overs, but you immediately slammed your hands on the table, making him squeal from the scare.

"Sweetheart, what the actual fu--"

"Take off your pants."

The comment echoed throughout the small living room, with the plate of mashed potatoes in his hands while he stared wildly your way. If he squinted enough, he could see your nostrils flaring and probably steam coming out of them.

"What did you say--"

"You fucking heard me. I need to show you how grateful I am or I will lose my goddamn mind." Your voice was coming through your teeth while Eddie was putting down the plate on the table again and he raised his hands at you as if taming a wild animal.

"Baby, you don't need to do anything, it was a pleasure--"

"I swear to god Eddie, I want to suck your dick until you are dehydrated and I want you to stuff me like you did with that fucking turkey. So... Get. Those. Pants. Off."

Who knew you could get rid of pants in 1.2 seconds? Not Eddie.

[sturniolo04]

Panic Attack M.S.

Bf!Matt x Gf!Fem!Reader

A/N: If you don't like the preadded name in my stories, you can either add your own name or not read it; it's up to you :)

You were never the anxious type. For as long a s you could remember you didn't have anxious bone in your body. You constantly carried yourself with pure joy, contentment, and happiness. So, when you started dating Matt, you couldn't always relate and understand the anxious and sometimes depressive highs and lows he would go through but being his girlfriend, you really tried to understand and help as best as you could through the lows especially when they got really low.

This brings you to now, you are currently sitting on the couch in your apartment next to Matt, studying for another medical exam you have to take to pass this class to get you one step to majoring and having a career as a pediatrician, it being your dream, since your mom is one and you always looked up to her. You let out what you thought was a normal deep breath.

"you okay"

matt asks simply glancing over to you.

"yeah why wouldnt I be"

you slightly giggle out as Matt shakes his head playfully.

"no reason"

he replys shrugging his shoulders fixating his attention back on his computer in front of him.

" i mean i am almost done with studying I am going to get through this exam I think"

you hesitantly squeal out not being fully aware of the toll the work was getting to you and your mental state just yet.

"okay thats good im glad you feel confident about it. Are you ready to take a break and go get lunch."

matt asks as you huff out and agreement as he stands up and extends his hand out to you to help you get off of the couch.

You two hopped into his car and headed to a Chickfila to get lunch.

"you want to go in or drive thru"

matt as you two were stopped at the red light before the left turn in the parking lot. You were fixates on scrolling through a series of exams and essays you had no idea were even on your plate to complete within the next couple of months before the fall semester is over.

"baby"

matt stated gaining your attention back to reality.

"huh oh yeah um drive thru actually"

you speak up trying to forget about what you saw on your phone and that you were beginning to freak out due to the fact you have yet to write the first sentence of.

"okay are you here with me"

matt chuckles out as he reaches over running his palm on your leg in the passenger seat as he pulls up to the ordering screen in the drive thru.

"yeah sorry i just didnt realize i had more essays to write otherwise I would have said we could go in but"

you simply state out as matt start rubbing you thigh comfortably, already sensing a little bit of overwhelm that was completely going unnotice by his very own girlfriend.

"yeah its okay i get that we will get our food and head back to your place and get them done okay"

he reassures as you sigh out again.

"plus we also still have dinner with Chris Nick and Madison Beer so and that's not until later so we will still go out to eat today"

he chuckles out as he places his hand to thread through your head as you hum out in contentment.

Time Skip

you guys had made it back to your apartment with lunch and you two were sitting at the table you neatly placed in the kitchen area. You were hyperfocused on starting the essays going into hyper focus completely forget the concept of time.

"baby its time to get ready dinner is at 7pm"

matt speaks up as he closes his computer and stands up from his seat head over to you placing his hands on your shoulders, lovingly.

" matt i have to finish these essays though can we-"

you whine out slowly looking up at him.

"can we reschedule or cancel tonight"

you question sheepishly as matt begins to chuckle.

"baby no we haven't been out of the house since early this afternoon and it 5:50pm, plus it will be fun"

he persuades and reasons with you. You agreed and headed up to your room to get dressed for dinner tonight *outfit reference* As you were getting ready you felt this constant strain on your chest which again was abnormal for your so you simply blow it off considering it was probably nothing.

"you ready"

att simply asks you as you finally made your way back downstairs, sensing that same feeling of overwhelm and anxiousness on you that he sensed earlier that day.

"ye-yeah just was feeling like some tightness in my chest but I am ready lets go"

you quickly reply out, grabbing your shoes so you can put them on in the car.

"are you sure that it was nothing"

matt asks you again showing his concern of you not acknowledging you being stressed over the essays and exams you have yet to finish and study for before the semester is over in 2 months.

"yeah i promise im okay"

you simply replied ad you and him walked out the door.

Time Skip

You and Matt connected with Nick Chris and Madison at the restaurant and everything was great. You guys were catching up on everything that was going on in life which kind of allowed you to forget all about your essay and exam you had yet to finish and study for for a little bit.

"so how has med school been"

Madison asks you, shifting the conversation.

"yeah its going for sure"

you huff out as the tightness slightly returning back in your chest at the very thought and mention of school. as if school couldn't get any better you get a notification on your phone that was saying that basically your professor is deciding to have grades finalized this upcoming month instead of the following month after the next month and its march 30th already.

You start feeling like the walls were closing in on you as if you were stuck in a box and couldn't find a way out. You begin to feel the tightness in your chest become more apparent making it hard to breathe to the point where you couldn't seem to get any air in or out of your body and lungs.

"hey you okay"

Chris ask from across the table noticing you place a hand on your chest as if to make sure your alive.

"hey let's go outside for a minute yeah"

matt calmly suggests knowing exactly whats happening and because he didn't want everyone in the restaurant to focus their attention towards you. You nodded you head barely giving him the approval for him to guide you outside in the parking lot.

"i-i matt"

you shakily strain out as you place a shaky on the brick wall of the exterior of the restaurant to help you sit on the floor.

"hey hey"

matt soothes walking over to you.

"tell me whats going on"

"i i cant breathe matt w-whats happening to me"

you exclaims uncontrollably sobbing, as matt kneels in front of you placing his forehead on your bring one of your hands to his chest to give you the awareness that you were still alive and that he was there with you.

"yes you can. Youre having a panic attack love its okay match my breathing"

He softly speaks as he begins inhaling and exhaling deeply, as you slowly follow along.

"there you go"

he whispers seeing your normal state of breathing return to normal, he moves from kneeling to sit next you.

"that was really scary thats never happened to me before"

you softly speak out as you lean your head on his shoulder.

"yeah i think school caught up to you didn't it"

he questions as you slightly sigh and nod you head not daring to speak on that topic currently.

"can we just go home i want to get some sleep"

you calmly ask, looking up at matt.

"of course lets go tell everyone bye then"

he replies helping you to stand up.

"hey are you okay"

nick asks you softly

"yeah"

you softly let out.

"i think we are going to head out she's not feeling the best so I am going to take her to get some rest"

matt chimes in as he brings you into his side rubbing your arm softly.

"aw okay we will see you guys soon its okay"

madison replies getting up and hugging the pair along with chris and nick following.

"feel better and we will see you at home I guess matt right"

chris states and asks.

"maybe i will text you if i end up staying at her place"

matt simply replies to his brother.

"fine by us"

nick chimes in as you two finally leave and get in the car.

You guys barely even made it out of the parking lot before you were already fast asleep in the passenger seat.

Taglist

@dirtylittleheart333 @mintsturniolo @wh0resstuff@ @spicymuffins03 @ksturnz @stayingstromboli @emely9274

[untildawnss]

until dawn characters overhearing their partner say something positive about them/their relationship

okiedokie [cracks knuckles] i had a shower to wash away the sad and now i'm ready to write the good - this took a good while because i was watching a show while writing lol

this is going to be fluff, i'll find out if anything else happens while writing this. very minor angsty and nsfw mentions.

ashley

"i don't think i've ever loved anyone as much as i love ashley. i still get butterflies when i look at her."

you tossed your phone towards ashley so she could order pizza while you were busy writing an assignment on your laptop. when she unlocked it, the chat with your best friend was still open, your last text the one about ashley. "i didn't know you were a big ol' sap." ashley shifted on the couch and leaned her head against your shoulder. "huh?" you stopped typing and furrowed your brow. "what are you talking about?" - "oh, just that text about me you sent earlier." she was already scrolling through the menu, looking for your favourite pizza. "were you snooping?" - "i didn't have to. you never close your apps." you nodded your head. it was true, you never did. "i get butterflies, too. ever since we met. maybe we're soulmates." she leaned in to kiss you.

beth

"hannah, oh my god, i'm so happy to see you. did you know that i love beth soooooo much? she's the best. i want to marry her. do you think she would want to marry me?"

beth tried to interrupt your drunken ramblings. her twin sister was on the couch next to you, snoring, and you had woken up while she was trying to clear the empty pizza boxes from the coffee table. you had immediately pulled her into a tight hug and happily babbled on about beth for a minute until you fell asleep again. beth carefully removed herself from your arms and decided that she wasn't really in the mood to clean up after you and hannah, you were perfectly capable of doing that yourself in the morning. and she was only a little offended that you had mistaken her for her sister. it was kind of fun to know how you talked about her when you thought she wasn't there.

chris

"josh, chris just texted me 'can we talk?' and i am freaking out. is he breaking up with me? please tell me he's not breaking up with me. he's honestly the best boyfriend i've ever had and i-"

josh groaned. "i told him not to text you that. chris, what's wrong with you?" you heard some crinkling, the muffled sounds of josh and chris whispering and then what sounded like a slap before josh let you know that he was handing the phone over to chris now. "hey, sorry about that. josh's hand and the back of my head just had a meet and greet." - "good for you? what the fuck was that text about, chris?" more whispering. "chris?" - "yeah, sorry. so remember how you just said that i'm the best boyfriend ever?" you sighed. "looking back, i probably wouldn't have said it if i had known you were listening." chris cleared his throat. "well, actually, i was thinking that you're the best partner i've ever had and i wanted to ask you to move in with me and so i decided to send you a text to ask you to talk about it." - "can you actually put josh back on for a second?" whispering again, until you heard josh's voice. "what's up?" - "can you tell chris that i love him and will move in with him but that he seriously needs to work on the way he brings up serious topics?"

emily

"you might not like her but i love her. she's the best thing that ever happened to me and if you just bothered to get to know her, you'd know that she's actually smart and funny and great. she actually shows up for me, do you?"

emily knew that your family hated her. they saw her as a stuck-up mean girl with expensive tastes and were worried that she was just using you until someone better came along. she hated that her relationship with you was causing all these fights with your family because they thought they knew better. this was the worst fight you'd ever had with them and she'd never heard you yell like that. "no, i'm done talking. don't bother calling again until you accept that i'm an adult and make my own decisions." emily heard you swearing before you knocked on the bedroom door and walked in. you were half-dressed, the original plan had been to go out for dinner. emily was still sitting in front of her vanity, absent-mindedly twirling a blending brush between her fingers. your phone buzzed again. "i swear to god," you muttered through clenched teeth as you declined the call. "rain check?" emily asked, already putting away the brush and looking for her make up wipes. "please." she looked at you through the mirror. "i'm sorry for asking but i think i need help getting out of this dress." - "oh, so you're flirting with me? right now?" you couldn't help but smile. "if you want me to. or you could just tell me how smart and funny and great i am while i order dinner." - "i can do that."

hannah

"dear hannah, your glasses are very cute and look really good on you. you have a really pretty face and i have a crush on you."

"dear hannah, do you want to go out with me?"

"dear hannah, you were really good as juliet in the senior year play."

"oh my god, what's this?" hannah picked up the loose papers that had slid all over the wooden floor of the living room in your new apartment. "what? oh, oh no. i thought i'd thrown those away. they're so old." - "i didn't know you had a crush on me back in high school. wow, we really could have gotten together years ago." you were on your hands and knees, trying to grab the old, unfinished love letters you had never had the courage to slip into hannah's locker or bag. "what? you liked me in high school?" - "who did you think sent you all those valentines? i didn't know you liked my glasses back then." before long both of you were on the floor, reminiscing about all the near confessions you had accidentally dodged.

jess

"we'd love to go out for drinks with you guys, but i have plans with my super hot girlfriend and i wouldn't miss it for the world and she has plans with me. oops, putting our phones on do not disturb now."

you sent the text to the group chat and turned to jess. the two of you were on the couch, wearing sweatpants and facemasks. numerous candles were illuminating the living room and there was a romcom playing on the TV. "super hot girlfriend, is that right?" jess was smiling, the hydrating sheet mask wrinkling and folding around her mouth. "oh, very." you were sipping wine through a straw. "and you'd rather be at home doing skincare and watching a movie with me?" - "are you kidding me? i get to have a few drinks, hang out with my favourite person in the world AND wake up with great skin. what more could a person want?" - "you're not so bad yourself."

josh

"ugh, i know, right? he's smart, he's hot, he's kinda weird but in that cute and quirky way and when i look at him, i want to start writing poems or love songs. it's actually disgusting how perfect i think he is."

josh and you were at a bar with a group of friends and while josh had gone to get more drinks and a few others were playing pool, one of them had taken the opportunity to tease you about the way the two of you adored each other. neither of you didn't realise that josh was already on his way back to the table and heard every word you said. he stopped for a few seconds to compose himself, thinking that you'd probably be embarrassed if you knew that he heard you talking about him. the rest of the night, josh was in a, to you, inexplicably good mood but when you asked what had him smiling like that he said that he was just having fun. you narrowed your eyes and looked at him, suspiciously. "what did you do?" - "nothing, i swear." a few hours later you were on your way home, your hand in josh's while he was swinging them back and forth. "what is up with you today? i could pass out right here and now. how are you not tired?" josh's smile was as wide as ever. "it's nothing, really. i'm just happy i met you."

matt

"i wouldn't dream of breaking uncle matt's heart. pinkie promise. when we get married you can be flower girls."

matt's nieces had begged you to play tea party with them. they were extraordinarily good at offering you tea while giving you the third degree. yes, i love your uncle matt a lot. yes, i hope your uncle matt loves me, too. yes, we live together. no, i won't break up with uncle matt. you thought meeting matt's parents for the first time would be intimidating. his nieces were almost terrifying. finally, matt came to save you when they started asking about babies. you waved goodbye to the girls. "so it's when, not if we get married?" you looked at matt and your heart skipped a beat, he was smiling warmly. "well, i mean, i guess-" you sputtered. "wait, you were listening and you let them interrogate me?" - "oh, do you want to go back and tell them how many kids we're gonna have?"

mike

"yes, i know he's handsome. like absolute dreamboat, straight out of a disney movie handsome."

"oh, you better watch your mouth, that's my boyfriend you're talking about."

"oh no, he's an only child. but i think he has cousins. doubt he left any hot for the rest of them, though."

you hadn't heard mike come home and he was trying really hard to respect your privacy but the bedroom door was ajar and you were always louder when you were talking on the phone, especially when talking to your best friend whom he was due to meet this upcoming weekend. and he couldn't deny it, he was curious what you had to say about him. mike pushed the bedroom door open slowly, you had your back to him and were scrolling on your phone with your earphones in. "busy?" he asked, leaning against the doorframe and grinning widely when you jumped and almost tumbled off the bed. "what the fuck, mike? when did you get here?" you said a quick goodbye to your friend and put your phone on the bedside table. "oh, not that long ago." he crossed his arms, still grinning at you. "but go on, what were you saying about me?" mike inched towards the bed, his face now scrunched up in mock-confusion. "something about me being super hot, i think." - "i never said super hot." he put the back of his hand against his forehead and closed his eyes, feigning hurt this time. "you wound me." then, before you knew it, he was straddling you, his lips barely an inch from yours as he was running his hands down your sides, sending a pleasant shiver down your spine. "guess i'll have to change your mind, then."

sam

"my girlfriend just opened her own gallery and i'm super proud of her. do you have anything on the menu that's fancy and says 'i love you so much, you're gonna do great' and, most importantly, is also vegan? is champagne vegan? do you have vegan champagne?"

sam heard you whispering to the hostess as she walked through the doors behind you. so that's why you wanted her to park the car. she smiled at the hostess and rolled her eyes slightly, affectionately, pointed and you and then at herself while mouthing i'm the girlfriend. the hostess nodded and asked you to wait just a few more minutes, your table was almost ready. "you know i'm just a cog in the machine and the gallery isn't actually my own, right?" sam had sauntered over and was looking at you with one eyebrow raised in amusement. "you're still an active partner and the face of the gallery. so why bother explaining?" - "oh, i'm not complaining. just wondering if you hit your head. but now i don't feel bad about letting you wine and dine me."

[thesheriffandthebrawler]

finally speaking up regarding the final words vi said, her whole character arc this season and how things went for her in the final act and same goes with caitlyn.

to be honest, i have been struggling to enjoy the representation because personally, my wow, representation! can either apply on the piltover’s finest finally being canon on screen and being oppressed as a zaunite for me. if caitlyn becoming a dictator scared me during the first act, vi saying “i am the dirt under your nails, cupcake. nothing’s gonna clean me out.” surely left me devastated.

for me, this wasn’t vi assuring caitlyn that no matter what she does again, no matter how dirty her hands get again, vi will always be there for her—or maybe it also is. in the show, no one is there physically and mentally holding back vi anymore, the only person left and she believes who knows her deeply here now is caitlyn. her only family died in that ‘explosion.’

unfortunately, given their different classes, vi still looks at herself as something that caitlyn shouldn’t be proud to have. it makes me sad that she genuinely believes she is nothing but a dirt, an oil, a nuisance, a zaunite, or a lower class—way beneath than caitlyn’s tiled floors on her house in piltover even if she climbs back up to her actual title in the game which is becoming an enforcer. it wasn’t a sweet promise, it was ‘self-awareness’.

even if she stands in the land of piltover, the fact that she knows she truly belongs nowhere boggles my mind. they never gave her character depth in this season, either. if you see vi, she’s either with jinx, with caitlyn, or struggling to breathe normally without thinking about the both of them.

what happened to her when she was imprisoned for how many years? surely, not only her fighting skills were enhanced in that place. did we see how she was struggling to accept how every single one of them changed? powder, ekko, and now caitlyn. no matter how things got progressively worse between the two seasons, she remained the same? vander was still clearly a threat at the end of the battle, there was not a single percent of chance of getting to save him from his state, but she still kneeled beside him and believed that he could go back like she once did. it was devastating to see her resort to becoming a pitfighter, but it was more devastating to see that her worst rock bottom was only compiled in a montage. not much was given for her character to be explored once again. how can we ever throw a perfect opportunity for a character’s story like vi’s to be understood?

“you’ve got a good heart, don’t ever try to lose it. no matter how hard the world tries to break you.”

but perhaps, this truly was the whole point of vi’s character. she has been really selfless, it doesn’t matter what kind of chaos the narrative is going to bring to the table. she has been taught to fight well and she will always use the same tactic for it. if her visible bruises doesn’t seem to bother her throughout the whole show, it must be saying the same thing about how she’s been actually doing. she would only beg to differ once it includes the people she cares for. if that’s the case, the show really showed that to me, but.... man, i want to give her a hug.

[sosuigeneris]

Why do you think 50/50 is bad

because I wasn’t raised like that, I won’t let my brother have that mindset and nor will my son ever be raised the same way. Any rational and sane woman brings enough to the table, the last thing she needs to do is pitch in financially unless there’s a grave issue. Everyone provides something for their partner and sane women go over and beyond to provide that in other ways. No contribution to any relationship- be it emotional, financial or otherwise - can ever be fully 50-50 because a) measuring these things means you really don’t love each other b) you could not measure them even if you tried due to their subjectivity c) it’s a relationship, not a competition nor a pot luck

Women and men are different and their differences are unique, but work and personal lives at times demand different energies - at work, I have to embody a more masculine persona and when I come home from work I have no intention of being a man in the house too. I’ve been in relationships where I’ve done the whole 50-50 and honestly? It just makes the man lazy and not creative and you end up scrambling for the bare minimum. I remember the first time being courted by a man who was an absolute gentleman and how wonderful he made me feel - that’s when my stance on 50-50 completely switched. He made me feel like a woman, and I loved that feeling. I never felt obliged to have sex with him, I learned how to finally relax and trust someone, it actually made me voluntarily put more effort in our relationship and shower him with affection, than otherwise.

I will never ever be the cool girl who “doesn’t need flowers” or “I’m so chill haha you can do what you want babe” or “of course you can be friends with your ex babe!” absolutely NOT. I like being loved, I like being spoiled, I believe in certain boundaries with friends and families, I am not cool with anything and everything. That’s what makes me inaccessible by many.

If a man who is romantically interested in me and likewise with me, ever tries to split the bill with me…. Not only will he be friendzoned, but I’ll pick up the whole cheque and block him after and think of it as my exit fee. Or if I can’t block him because our families know each other or whatever, he’s automatically placed in the friend zone and I will personally ensure that none of my closest girls ever has to date that miser.

[crowned-clown-rising]

I love how depending on the day you check out my blog the idea you get out of it depending on the posts I shared can completely change because I've refused to invest energy into side blogs and therefore just throw every type of content in here like it's the backroom of a clandestine library and I have a whole shelf for myself people will walk by from time to time. And it's classified under "?" because no one knows what's about.

[thesunshookwithjoy]

.

[sanguineterrain]

Kurt wagner and tail stuff!!! I love that boy! I love how you write! I love the tail! Smashing them together we got a a little piece of heaven! So Kurt wagner with s/o and some tail action pretty please!!

(Like if you need some more then that: for example, the times before they were together Kurt’s tail always seemed to gravitate towards reader (I’m an advocate that Kurt’s tail is like a fricking mood ring) wrapping around them, touching them. The times when they were together! And the time reader wraps their hand or something around his tail or something)

Love your writing! You’re awesome and amazing! And I want to say in advance, thank you so so much for doing this ask! I will treasure it dearly! And if you don’t do the ask then thank you so so much to taking the time to read it! Have a lovely day!

ouuu this is a sweet request <3 tail boy! thanks nonnie :) hopefully I did him justice 🫶 changed the request a bit but kept the same idea about the tail. may write a part 2... we'll see!

kurt wagner (nightcrawler) x gn!reader. fluff, cooking, gambit and rogue trying to talk some sense into the reader.

note: I tried to capture kurt and gambit's accents. however, as always, I'm open to feedback on them. It's definitely not my intention to offend or miswrite anyone!

****

The smell of bubbling cheese wafts from your pot as you stir. It's been a while since you were able to cook for yourself and have a nice meal, always running out to do something or another for the good of the planet.

"Smells good," comes a familiar voice. A moment later, a tail curls around your wrist as you shake some paprika into the pot.

You look away from your stirring into golden, irisless eyes. Kurt grins at you.

"Mac 'n cheese," you say by way of greeting. "Want some?"

"Please und thank you."

Anytime you cook, you offer Kurt to share. You frequently have the thought that you spoil the hell out of him, but you can't help it.

He helps you out by putting away the milk and cheese. But he's never far; his tail remains on you. It slackens from your wrist, then explores up your arm and around your elbow.

It's nothing new, of course. The first thing you learned about Kurt Wagner is how physically affectionate he is.

"That tail seems to have a mind of its own, elfie," you say, smiling down at the pot.

"What do you mean?"

"It's always holding onto me." You turn off the burner.

"Ah." Kurt drops his tail. "My apologies. I can ease up, as you say."

You shake your head. "Don't. I don't mind. Never have."

So Kurt gives you one final tail squeeze. The fur on his arm tickles you as he brushes past. You watch him in confusion.

"Where are you going?" you ask, halfway through scooping two servings of the pasta.

"Not far," he says brightly. "Jean wanted me to bring spoons from the kitchen." He holds up three metal spoons with his tail.

"Spoons?"

He shrugs. "An experiment. Who am I to question a scientist's whim? I promise I will be fast."

He teleports away, and you have a mind to cover Kurt's bowl with a plate. You bring both bowls to the table. At last, a proper meal.

You don't mind eating alone, but that hardly ever happens with Kurt around. Even if he's just eaten, he'll nibble on whatever you've made. You don't know where he puts all that food—perhaps in another dimension—but he makes it a point to eat with you, regardless of whether you've cooked or not. Even if you're in the middle of the forest eating a tin of beans, Kurt will plant himself right next to you and keep you company.

He's a good friend. The best friend you've ever had, actually.

"Woo, smells good!"

Gambit comes in first, followed by Rogue, since the two are never seen apart anymore. Gambit, nosy that he is, makes a beeline to Kurt's covered bowl.

"And what's in here?" he asks, lifting the plate.

"That's Kurt's," you say. "You can get some from the pot."

"Mais, it's Kurt's, huh?" He glances at Rogue, who grins. "Hear that, chère? Not sure if I should take from the pot. Might take my head, too."

You squint as they share laughter. "What're you talking about?"

"Oh, nothin'," Rogue says sweetly, taking the seat diagonal to you. Gambit sits next to her.

Your frown deepens. "I didn't say you couldn't have some, G, I just—"

Gambit shakes his head. "Don't go worryin' 'bout that. I'm just teasin'. I think it's cute how you feed the furball."

"Excuse me, I feed myself first," you say, and shovel a forkful of pasta into your mouth.

You hate not being in the know. It happens frequently, being that you're not a mutant. You're here on a personal invitation from Charles due to your "technology skills."

Really, you'd been brought here to fix Cerebro. And after that, you'd sort of just... stayed at the school. Charles had offered you a room, Kurt had won your friendship (or, perhaps, you'd won his), and you'd never left.

"Well, what do you mean, anyway? So what if I feed Kurt," you say, unable to stand not knowing.

"Just seems like where you are, Kurt's never far," Rogue says, watching you eat.

"Yeah, so? He's my friend."

"Oh, un ami. Is that what we're callin' it?" Gambit asks, eyes gleaming with mirth.

"What else would you call it?"

They look at each other in that Siamese cats way. Often, you've had the thought that they can read each other's minds—no powers needed.

"You really don't know?" Rogue asks, voice softening.

"Know what?" you ask impatiently.

Gambit makes a quiet noise in his throat. "Y'all don't know. He's gone on you."

Your brows rise. "Kurt? Don't be silly, Remy."

"Oh, great. You're both in denial," Rogue says, rolling her eyes. "Haven't you noticed how touchy he is around ya? Always huggin' and clingin'."

"Kurt's like that with everybody," you say. "He's like that with Logan!"

"Mais, the tail, it never lies," Gambit says with all the wisdom of someone centuries older. "He don't go wrappin' that tail 'round anybody."

Rogue nods sagely. "True. And he's always puttin' that tail around you."

"But he's..." You put your fork down in frustration. "That's ridiculous. Kurt would've said—I mean, there would've been a sign. He would've told me. Kurt doesn't hide anything from me."

"This is new for him, honey," Rogue says. "He's never been in love for real. He's not gonna act rationally."

"Alors, look at it this way. La Raison parle, mais l'Amour chante. Hm? His body betray his words. It sings to you. Jus' like I sing to ma cherie."

He reaches to take Rogue's hand, eyes practically heart-shaped. Rogue lets him, smiling in that secret, shy way of hers whenever Gambit is sweet on her.

L'Amour...

"Kurt is not in love with me," you say. "End of story."

They both heave sighs.

"Just watch his tail," Rogue says. "Kurt can hide a lot, but he can't control how he—"

BAMF!

You flinch as Kurt teleports into the kitchen. He grins and waves, then bounces around the table to greet the others.

"I'm back!" he says. "I hope my mac did not get cold. Will you be eating with us?"

"No, that's okay," Rogue says, looking at you meaningfully behind Kurt's back. "Rain check. We've gotta go train."

Gambit winks at you. "See y'all."

They disappear quickly. Kurt turns to you, blissfully unaware of your newly formed nerves.

"I am sorry I was gone for so long," Kurt says, sitting down to his bowl. "Jean had some questions about my abilities. Apparently, she's trying to replicate them in a machine."

"That's okay," you say. "Rogue and G kept me company."

Kurt beams. "They are so good for that, yes?"

He shovels a mouthful of mac 'n cheese into his mouth and groans in appreciation. His tail instantly curls around your wrist.

"Amazing!" Kurt says. "Perhaps your special ability is your cooking, hm? I would believe it."

You laugh. "Danke, elfie."

"Bitte schön," he says, eyes lighting up at your German. He frequently informs everyone about how good your German is becoming, even though you hardly know ten phrases.

His tail begins to stroke your arm. You wonder if he's aware of it. If he knows how his tail betrays him.

But no, that's outrageous. And even if it was true, it's not like the feeling's mutual, right?

"Oh, and," Kurt says. "I got us tickets to that show you wanted to see. They're playing it at the theater downtown. We can go on Saturday, ja?"

"You... oh. Wow. I told you about that ages ago, Kurt. You remembered?"

"Why wouldn't I?" he says, tilting his head. Like it hadn't occurred to him to be anything less than thoughtful.

"No, I'm just—thank you. That's really nice of you."

Kurt beams. "I am excited to watch the green witch und her pink friend sing!"

He keeps eating, unaware of the way he's made your world tip on its axis. Because now you know.

You're in love with Kurt Wagner. And the feeling just might be mutual.

[grison-in-space]

Has Biden actually done anything at all? There's evidence going around and I think it's compelling, the alternate to voting is instead doing actual social work and participating in protests and organizing political action, which is a good idea i think

1) Yes. Inarguably this has been the most effective progressive domestic administration since I have been alive, and I'm in my thirties. What in the fuck are you talking about? It's not perfect, but it's better than we've seen in fifty years: Obama tried, but Democratic Congressional organization was just not yet used to working with a completely obstructionist GOP Congress in the wake of the tea party.

Even in terms of foreign policy, this is also pretty much as good as US involvement gets. Sorry. Our foreign policy has been shaped by monsters for decades, and that's even without dealing with our huge and active branch of Christian doom cultists. There ain't a candidate in the world that could stop the entire accumulated momentum of geopolitics with a snap of the finger, and I'm not really willing to pretend that Biden is particularly notable for not managing to fix Israel/Palestine relations.

2) In your own words, anon, what precisely does organizing political action entail without participating in the political process? Do you think that abstaining from the part of the gig where you, the citizen, get to say which official gets the job somehow makes your opinions matter more to your elected public officials? Have you ever organized to get so much as a municipal one-time library project budget expanded? Are you perhaps only skilled at political argument with people who already agree with you on the Internet?

What is your leverage, and could it reasonably be described as "extortion" or "blackmail" or "political corruption?" Because those are pretty much the only things on the table that can work more effectively to drive an elected official than a disciplined coalition of political allies (who can be purchased with, you guessed it, votes) or a reliable bloc of voter support. Your vote matters less than the ones you bring with you, sure. Do you think that not voting yourself somehow helps people organize to drive more votes? Have you perhaps replaced your complex reasoning skills with a rapidly dying jellyfish?

3) Holy passive vagueness, Batman! "Evidence is going around." What a masterpiece of a sentence! How it suggests everything while providing nothing! What evidence? Who collected it? Who is talking about the evidence "going around?" Who is listening? How many of them are there? What did they think before? The more I think, the more questions I have, and damn if they ain't predisposing me to be even less charitable.

Like, this is so catastrophically poorly supported that I have to confess that I not only believe this is probably an ask in bad faith (i.e. by someone who is expecting to piss me off or otherwise engage with me adversarially, probably spammed to a whole host of blogs at once with no expectation of response) but I actively hope that it is. The alternative is to have to grapple with the reality that some people are so uncomfortable with the responsibility of moral agency that they're willing to release useful levers of legal and social power just so that they never do anything problematic with that power. Much better, of course, to wash one's hands of anything that might have the stink of responsibility clinging to it. Might fall from the membership of the Elect if you actually get yourself all muddy by doing things, I reckon.

I don't even believe that voting is the only lever we have when it comes to our elected officials or that votes are necessary to secure change, and I am certainly not talking about the presidential ticket alone when I talk voting. What I do believe is two things: one, that voting is a potential lever of power on the emergent chaos of the society in which we live. And two, that anyone telling me to leave a lever of power on the ground without a damn good reason is either incompetent, malicious, or both.

[nightmare-niko]

Routines In The Night [Nicholas Alexander Chavez x reader]

Warnings: alcohol consumption, vague-ish descriptions of clubbing, raw sex (don't do that), completely self-indulgent

A/n: i am just a girl and i cannot help the things my mind comes up with. also this is my first actual smut in years so lmk how I did hehehe

Word count: 2273

Copying or translating my writing is not allowed. If you see my work on another site it is stolen. Reblogs are appreciated and encouraged.

It's been quite a long time since you went out with your friends. Life gets in the way sometimes! But tonight, the stars have aligned, and all of your schedules lined up perfectly. You don’t remember being this excited to see your friends, but now you all were in your apartment getting ready for your night out.

"So I don’t know when the boys are gonna get here-“ your best friend; Violet sits on your bedroom floor, curling her hair. “But I think Evan said something about bringing a new friend?”

“Violet you can't just let strangers hang with us! What if he's a weirdo?!" You’re mostly joking. You knew your friends. Realistically you had nothing to worry about.

“What if he’s ugly?” your other Friend interjects.

“Oh my god! Hayley!” Violet chokes out a surprised laugh.

“What it’s a valid question!” She defends.

"I'm sure he will be completely normal." You try to expel the chaos beginning to build throughout your small apartment while the three of you continue to get ready.

•

An excessive amount of knocks on your door makes you jump.

You grumble obscenities on the way to open your door. "You know Evan- You don't have to—“ you stop in your tracks. Sure, there was Evan and your other friend Mike, but there was also a new guy—a beautiful guy. Was it suddenly getting hot in here??

"Oh okay drool much?" Evan jokes and you snap out of your man-induced trance.

“Hi, I'm Nick" he offers his hand for you to shake.

Your hand is quite small compared to his, but unlike most guys you’ve met, his hand is gentle. He certainly isn't trying to crush your hand (why do guys do that?). As the other guys walk into your apartment, Nicholas stays in your doorway with you as you introduce yourself,

“Come in! You have to meet the others!" You take his hand and lead him into your living room.

•

The music was loud, the air was hot, and the lights pulsed and changed erratically. You danced along to whatever generic set the DJ played, you honestly were too drunk to care. This is what you needed. While you and your girls danced carelessly with each other, the guys stayed back at your table.

All of them seemed pretty caught up in their drunken conversations. Not Nicholas though, no. His eyes had been on you the second you clambered onto the dance floor. You loved it.

You felt Violet's arm wrap around your waist, "are you gonna deal with that? " She borderline shouts in your ear to combat the loud music. "Who? Pretty boy over there?" You lock eyes with Nick across the room, he quickly looks away—taking a sip of his drink. "Maybe... you think you can get Hayley distracted so I can lure him ?"

She giggles and pulls away; you don't care how Violet was planning on making distance-- but you trusted her. With a sensual sway of your hips, you walk over to Nicholas. None of your other friends seem to notice your presence, not that you mind though.

"So, you gonna keep on staring or are you gonna dance with me?"

The man before you smirks, he takes you in quickly, "How about both?" He offers his hand to you. You take it gratuitously, even in your heels he had height over you. It was hot. Maybe it was the lights or the alcohol in your system-- or maybe both, but you had to have him.

To say the two of you were dancing was a stretch, to say the least… You wrap your arms around his neck, you were so not remembering this tomorrow at the rate you were going.

“How long were you going to sit there staring at me for?” Your question was light-hearted at best.

"Until I was blackout probably," He laughs shyly.

You laugh along with him, grinding along to the beat of the music, you could live this moment forever. "Usually everyone comes back to mine and sleeps over after clubbing. You down?”

He smiles, "Sure, why not.”

•

Somehow you managed to get all of your drunk friends back to your home safely. Now all you had to do was (try to) relax, you sneak away from all of your friends and into your bedroom.

It took you longer than usual to remove your makeup and change into your pajamas due to the drinks you had tonight, but you managed.

What time was it? You didn't know, your phone was dead!

Back in your living room, your friends lay sleeping (?) scattered around Violet and Hayley both still in their makeup and heels. You didn't dare wake them, they knew where your makeup wipes and extra clothes were. All you needed was your bed.

•

4 am. It was 4 am and you were wide awake. Wide awake with a raging headache, that is. You groan before tugging off your oh-so-comfortable blanket. The hardwood floors were cold against your bare feet-but you didn't care.

Stumbling to the kitchen through the darkness of your home was a situation you found yourself often, but now you had the added addition of staying quiet. The last thing you needed was more hungover zombies.

The moonlight from your open windows lit up your kitchen counter just enough for you to grab the nearest pain relief medicine and a drink in peace. Now here came the hard part-- walking back in the dark. Why didn't you bring your phone?!

The door of the bathroom swings open-- you gasp dramatically. "Jesus Nick! You fucking scared me,” you whisper yell at the taller man.

"Sorry! I had to— uh I didn't think anyone was awake." He flicks off the light and steps closer to you.

The moonlight paints across Nicholas’ face in a way that has you speechless. "Well, uhm-are you -" You stumble over your words. "Do you need anything? A blanket? Water? I can see if there are sweatpants you can wear."

For a moment you think he's going to decline your offer-- “Actually, a blanket and sweats would be awesome… If you don't mind."

"I don't mind at all-- Here follow me.” You continue your path to your bedroom, only this time with the hottest man you've ever seen trailing behind you.

Inviting him into your room! What if he gets the wrong idea? (Is it the wrong idea if you really do wanna fuck?) "Sorry for the mess... You can sit on my bed while I look." You awkwardly point at your bed as if its location wasn't obvious. "It's cute in here, very cozy." Nicholas takes in his surroundings— trying and failing to distract himself from your extremely short pajama shorts. "Thanks, here." You hand him some clothes leftover from friends, "Hope they fit." You hear him mutter a thanks before you go back to searching for a blanket. Why is he being so quiet? When you look over at him, he's staring: again. You bite back a laugh.

”You have quite the staring problem, you know?” You tease. He smiles something wicked, his dark brown eyes dark with want. Why stare when you can just shoot your shot?”

He throws his hands up in defense, "I mean hey, I made it this far!”

“Oh yeah- "You remark sarcastically, "Remind me what base ‘sitting on a hot girl's bed and staring at her ass’ is again?"

"Oh, so that's how we're playing it?" He stands up and takes one big step towards you

“That's how we're playing it.” You tease, standing up on your tippy toes to drape your arms over his shoulders.

His large hands wrap around your waist, pulling you into him. He hums in acknowledgment of your teasing. He was hard, you could feel him through his jeans.

How did you get into this situation? Were you complaining though?

No, not at alt. Nicholas' large hand cups your face sensually.

The Kiss was electric, not rough, but dominant. You didn't have the energy to fight for control, you just wanted him. Dazed, you pull back from the kiss. "I can't focus with you pressed against me like that." Your hands shoot from his neck to his belt buckle. “Bed, now." You demand, he quickly clambered onto your bed.

You pull his pants down to his ankles, and Nicholas kicks them the rest of the way down. Your heart racing as you follow him onto the bed, straddling his lap. His hands found their way to your hips, gripping them firmly as you leaned in for another heated kiss.

"Are you sure about this?" Nicholas whispered against your lips.

"Absolutely," you run your hands down his chest.

As things heated up between you two, a sudden noise from the living room made you both freeze. You remembered your friends sleeping just outside your bedroom door.

"We should keep it down," you giggled softly, pressing a finger to Nicholas' lips.

He nodded— a mischievous glint in his eyes. He presses a quick kiss into your lip and flips you onto your back. You find your eyes drifting down his torso, his cock tented in his boxers. You snap your eyes back up to his, the air thick with tension.

“Kiss me,” you beg, and he listens immediately. you tug on his bottom lip and he groans lowly. the position you were in made it impossible for you to not cross your ankles behind his back, pushing him against your throbbing core. You whimper, almost pathetic, but you couldn't care less about that right now.

You whine again, this time a desperate plea for more. “Mmm… Nick—please~” You beg against his lips.

“Tell me,” he commands. You whine again as his lip trail kisses along your neck, leaving marks at the base.

“More~” you manage to joke out.

“What do you want, beautiful? All you need to do is say it and I'll give it to you.” His voice is sultry against your ear, his breath leaving goosebumps in his wake.

“Clothes. off,” you demand.

You hear him chuckle sensually, as he leans back on his haunches. You swear all time freezes as you watch Nicholas take off his shirt. He was already the most attractive person on the planet with his pants off, and now here he was. Towering over you in his underwear, while you still had all of your clothes on. That had to change, sit up briefly as Nicholas helps you take off your sleep shirt.

Nicholas kisses you again, pushing you back down onto your plush pillows. In the heat of your kiss, Nicholas takes off your sleep shorts and leans back— he groans at the sight before him.

“look at you~” he tuts, “all fucked out and I haven't even touched you yet.”

“Nick, please-” you whine, bucking your hips in the air, desperate for any kind of friction. “Don't tease!”

finally, Nicholas stands up from your bed. Pulling his boxers down his boxers, revealing his throbbing cock. The tip is red and angry— leaking with precum. your mouth watered just at the sight.

he climbs back over you and back in between your thighs. his hungry eyes, fixed on your core as he runs his tip over your clothed clit. you whimper again— just as you're about to open your mouth to complain, he pulls your panties to the side and pushes into you in one motion.

You bite down on your lip to try to conceal your moan but the noise that you make is still extremely loud. the stretch burned, but god it felt heavenly. Nicholas clashes his mouth back onto yours at an attempt to hush your sounds— not that he wanted to. He wanted the whole city to hear you, but all of your friends were in the next room and that was not a conversation he wanted to have.

The steady rock of his hips has you barreling quickly towards your orgasm. The kiss is sloppy and rough— you couldn't think of a better thing to be doing at 5 am. He trails wet kisses to the sweet spot below your ear, then to your neck and collarbone.

With one hand tightly gripped on your hip, he was close. You knew because his thrusts were getting sloppier and rougher. With one final bite of the base of your neck, he sits up— free hand rubbing circles on your clit as the new angle had him hitting right you needed him.

Your back arches off of your bed in a dramatic display as your orgasm takes over you— you swear you blacked out for a moment. Nick pulls out of you in a hurry, white ropes of cum paint your torso and face and he groans gutturally.

the once cold air in your bedroom was now hot. the only sound was the combined sounds of you and Nicholas trying to catch your breath. sleep takes over you as you feel Nick wiping the cum off you with whatever was nearby.

"So," Nicholas whispered, running his fingers through your hair, "does this mean I get stay here tonight?" he brought a clean blanket over your naked bodies.

You laughed softly, pressing a kiss to his jaw. "If that's not what that means I have no idea what does."

Tag list (If you want to be added just comment!)

@Nallasstuff @chmpgneprblem @qoopeeya

@lilybellalana @sleepysongbirdsings

[sirompp]

you think your life is hard? well IM an EXTROVERT and i HAVENT SEEN ANY OF MY FRIENDS OR JUST RANDOM OTHER PEOPLE in THREE WEEKS!!!

[stevieschrodinger]

“I’m just saying it’s manipulative.”

“Manipulative? Eddie you can’t be serious.”

“I am, now, where’s the dish? It’s got to be around here somewhere.”

“Maybe in this box, clearly labelled ‘kitchen’?” Dustin snarks, “and I don’t see how you can say behaving in a way that’s been dictated by your very biology is...manipulative. That’s not fair, man.”

Eddie digs in the box, bringing out the baking dish he wants, and then heads back into the kitchen, swerving around clutter and open boxes as he goes, “yeah, I get that a lot of Omega act the way they do because of what they are, alright. I get that, I do. But all this...kind of, 'oh my oh my, can’t the big Alpha come and save me...I just need looking after and...and protecting'. And I get that it works, a lot of Alphas eat that shit right up, I’m just not one of them.” Eddie bangs around in the kitchen fixing Wayne’s famous corned beef hash casserole, “it’s just not for me, you know? I don’t want someone who’s just going to do as they’re told and roll over on everything, I want someone who is equal, not someone who wants looking after all the time. I will not be loosing my head over any Omega, no matter how pretty they are.”

“So you...wouldn’t look after your Omega?” Dustin squints at him.

“Firstly, not happening, not ever, I’m sticking to Beta’s and that is final...but, I mean, yeah, of course I’d look after my partner, but I’d do that for anyone. I don’t want this hormone driven need to...to I don’t know. It’s just not for me Henderson, okay? Now help me with the books.”

Dustin whines, “but there’s like, fifty million of them...and I still don’t agree that it’s manipulative. They’re just...playing to their strengths, or whatever.”

“Right, so an Omega bats their eyelashes and every Alpha in sniffing distance is falling over themselves to do whatever the Omega wants, and that’s not manipulative?”

“Welllll…no, especially since it only works because of the Alphas in the first place, if it’s anyone fault, it’s the Alphas, right?”

“Fucking...just shut up Henderson.”

Eddie’s just put their plates on the table when there’s a knock at the door, “I’m not waiting,” Dustin sits down and starts shoveling, and Eddie mutters curses all the way to the door, he’s absolutely starving-

“Hi, I am so sorry,” it’s an Omega. A ridiculously pretty one. A very, very pregnant one. “I’m from next door,” the very very pretty Omega is on tip toes, trying to look over Eddie’s shoulder. He’s clutching a plate to his chest, “I know you’ve just moved in and, again, I am so so sorry about this, but is there any chance I could try what you’re cooking? Please?”

He smells so good. Even better than a regular Omega; Eddie’s sure it’s because he’s pupped, probably some biological bullshit about protecting pups and whatever. But still, he’s...he’s cute, standing there with his plate, sniffing after Eddie’s cooking.

“I could smell it in the hall. It could just be the tiniest bit, but I just would really like to try it, I’m so sorry for interrupting your dinner but-”

“Hey, it’s okay,” Eddie says, taking the guys plate, “just hang there a second.” Eddie goes and...well, if he fills the plate of what was going to be tomorrows dinner, no one needs to know. Eddie might have opinions on gender, but he’s not a dick. The guy is very pregnant, plus he was being super polite about it. He even brought his own plate.

It’s another human being, pregnant and hungry; Eddie would do the same to help anyone out. This is absolutely nothing to do with the guy being the prettiest Omega Eddie’s ever seen in real life.

Eddie delivers the plate back, “oh my goodness,” oh okay, that’s adorable. Eddie’s pretty sure he’s never heard anyone say ‘oh my goodness’ in real life, like, ever. “Thank you so so much, is there anything I can do? I can contribute to the ingredients or-” and that’s when Eddie figures that not only is the guy very pretty, he’s actually a reasonable human being too, lots of people wouldn’t have even thought about that sort of thing.

“No, we’re good just, ah, let me know what you think.”

“I will, I will,” the guy is saying as he turns to leave, carefully carrying his laden plate. He’s big enough that he’s kind of waddling, and Eddie watches him long enough to see him go into the next apartment along the hall.

Eddie shuts the door, turning back to find Dustin watching him, both eyebrows raised, a very accusatory look on his face, “oh shut the fuck up.”

“Just let me know what you think,” Dustin mimics back, like a little bitch.

Part Two

[lovemebutleavemewild]

Wasn't actually going to do a part 2 to this mafia!Price x pregnant reader drabble but a few people requested it so ...

I don't think this will be a long fic or a series or anything but if anyone has by particular requests for scenes, let me know!

You take the table's orders quickly and almost trip getting away from them.

John follows you immediately, of course, but if you can just get to the kitchen, he won't be able to follow you.

Or so you think.

The doors don't have time to swing shut behind you before they burst open again and you feel a hand on your waist, spinning you around to face him.

"You're taking your break," he tells you.

"I can't yet, I have tables. And-"

You see your manager approaching and brace yourself for the tirade.

"Sir, you can't be in h-"

He stops when he gets a proper look at John.

"Oh. Um, is there a problem, sir? Or some way I can-"

"She's taking her break," John tells him, jerking his thumb at you. Your manager just nods mutely and John takes your hand, leading you out the back entrance.

"Beat it," he tells the line cook, smoking by the bins. The man slinks back inside without a word.

As soon as you're alone, John shepherds you against the wall, arm on either side of you so you're walled in.

"It's mine?" he asks and you try not to be offended. It's a fair question, you suppose. You just nod, looking at your shoes. He tilts your chin up so you're looking at him. You can't read the look on his face.

"Finish your shift. I'll wait."

+++++++

He takes you home, makes the others take a cab wherever they're going, and just gives you a look when you suggest you can take the bus.

He also insists on walking you inside. Your face warms at the way he's analysing your apartment building. When you hold the door to your place open for him, he rubs his hand along the doorframe, studying the lock, heads straight for the windows to do the same once he's inside.

"We'll need to get you moved out of here," he says when he finally turns around. You raise  your eyebrows.

"Is that right?" you ask. If he notices the sarcasm, he doesn't comment.

"Mmmhmm. Could get the lads to pack up your stuff for you, handle the movin'. We could have it done tonight"

"And where do you suggest I go?"

John smiles and sidles towards you.

"I could think of a few places," he says, raising his eyebrows. You huff a laugh.

"Hmm. But there's nothing wrong with my apartment."

John just hums.

"Not a good area," he tells you.

You start to feel your temper rise a little.

"Think whatever you want of the area; You don't get to walk in here and tell me-"

"Well I am telling you darlin'. I know these parts and 'round here isn't a good place for a girl like you."

"A girl like me?" you ask flatly, crossing your arms. You force yourself not to move away from him as he gets in your space. You can smell him from here, the scent of his cologne, and doesn't that bring back memories.

He leans down so he's looking into your eyes properly.

"A good girl," he says.

You snort and turn away.

"Does that line usually work for you?"

In a second, you feel his hands on your waist, pulling you back against a hard chest.

"Worked before, didn't it?" His voice is raspy in your ear.

"You didn't mind being my good girl the last time we spoke, did ya, sweetheart? Or can you only be good when you're stuffed full?"

He presses harder against your back and you can feel the length of him now.

"'Cause I can help you with that, love, just you say the word."

You pull away, turn to look at him, with your chest heaving.

"Place like this could be dangerous for a girl like you," John says and it sounds like a warning.

"Aren't men like you what makes places like this dangerous?" you whisper.

He steps towards you again, slower this time, puts a hand on your hip. You don't pull away.

"Sometimes," he admits. "Not always. Need to make sure you're taken care of, from all the bad things out there. Goes for both of you."

"I don't need taken care of," you tell him. It would sound more convincing to your own ears if you could find it in yourself to pull your hand off his chest.

"No?" His hand suddenly dips between your legs and you jolt forwards into him.

"You been taking care of yourself here, hmm?" He starts to rub, over your work leggings, leans down so his head is nearly on your shoulder.

"Been taking care of this pretty pussy like it needs?" he asks, voice rough. "It was so needy that night we met, I was sure we'd go a few rounds. Why'd you run instead, sweetheart? I didn't even get a chance to taste it."

You can't answer, can't think, especially not when he shoves his same hand under your pants, sliding your underwear to one side for better access. Your head falls back when he touches your clit.

"Need me to take of you here, darlin'?"

You can't help your moan.

"Not good enough," he grunts. "Need you to say it, love. Say you need me to take care of this pussy."

And you've been so stressed for so long and, really, at this point, what harm could it possibly do?

"Please, please, John, I need you. I need-need-"

He quietens you with a kiss, leaning down to lift you by your thighs. The bump makes it a bit awkward but he doesn't falter as he makes his way to your room.

"All you needed to say, mama."

[nereidprinc3ss]

do you believe me now? | 9

in which we find out how the morning after went for fem!reader. you finally share with spencer after unanticipated anxieties come up. you're continually shocked by his affection for you.

series masterlist

this series is 18+ (angst, fluff) warnings/tags: (preface none of the bad stuff is done by spencer) sexual harassment, slut shaming, non consensual voyeurism of sorts, blood + pain from losing virginity, talk of rape (nothing like that actually happens), implied nonspecific age gap (someone says he looks slightly older than you) non sexual nudity, showering together, intimacy, ewww being in love is embarrassing a/n: I honestly was not gonna post this today but I decided to bc it's just Tumblr its not that deep also you can probably tell I am just creating problems bc I don't wanna let go of them...... ik this is supposed to be a smutty series btw and trust good things come to those who wait!!!but anyways idk what I'm doing and I kinda hate this!! lolol!!!

Friday morning

The air is thick when you wake up—the angle of the sun through the window is lower than usual, and the binding weight of your limbs as you struggle to stretch in place all suggest that you’ve slept in. 

But you don’t check the time quite yet—for a moment, you simply lie there, studying the pattern on your ceiling, downloading the events of the previous night. 

Flashes of skin on skin, lips, breaths, whispers, promises. Phantom sensations. 

Was it even real?

Your apartment is deafeningly silent, you realize. And you have that sinking sense, which you can’t quite explain but know to be true—that you are alone. Spencer is gone. You can’t feel him like you’d be able to if he were simply on the couch or in the kitchen. He’s definitely not in bed with you, and the sheets have long gone cold. 

The truth of it renders about as slowly as your sluggish consciousness does, and you frown, not quite sure what to do with that information. Should you be angry? Should you cry?

Mostly you’re confused. 

As soon as you sit up, sore thighs and abs and a strange ache between your legs confirm that last night was not a dream nor a figment of your imagination. You’ll figure out what to do about your twinging body in a moment—for now you rub your eyes and blindly reach for the bedside table, knocking several things to the ground in your quest for your phone. 

It’s not there, you realize, once you actually try to use your eyes. It’s not in bed with you either as you pat the sheets, and it doesn’t materialize as you sit on your knees and shake out the comforter. 

From this venture, however, you learn two things. First, Spencer must’ve taken it upon himself to get you dressed last night, which you have no recollection of, but you doubt you sleepwalked your way into underwear and a big t-shirt; and second—you bled. 

It wasn’t something you were thinking about in the moment, but now, faced with all the evidence and none of the pleasure of last night’s activities, it’s jarring. A stark, unforgiving archipelago of red on a pristine sea of white. 

People say, at its best, sex brings couples closer. Spencer once told you it could facilitate feelings of deeper connection. But here you are, no longer a virgin, and what do you have to show for it? A stronger bond with your boyfriend? He’s not even here. 

All you have is this glaring red stain marring perfectly good sheets. It mocks you, like something you’ve dropped and can’t pick back up. You can’t think looking at it, and you need to think, and so in a fit of frustration you’re pulling the comforter onto the floor, leaning over your mattress and yanking the fitted sheet free. You ball it up in your hands, breathing heavily—and realize you bled through to the mattress. 

Wonderful. 

Spencer’s just at work, you tell yourself, grabbing the first pair of shorts you see and pulling them on before gathering the ruined sheet once more and stomping on aching legs through your apartment to the hallway, not even bothering with shoes. He can’t just play hooky because his clingy girlfriend lost her virginity and needs to be comforted like some previously celibate high school cheerleader.

But you miss him so much it’s making you angry, so much your eyes are stinging and welling with tears of frustration as you shove your bed linens down the trash chute at the end of your floor’s hallway. You’re supposed to be independent. That’s how you’ve always been. Since when does it bother you to wake up alone? It’s just sex. It’s not as big a deal for him as it is for you. Or for anyone. You’re the one overreacting, you’re the one who expects too much. He works for the FBI, for god’s sake. There are people dying, and here you are—

“What’chya got there?”

The gruff voice makes you jump, and you turn around just as the bundle is disappearing down into the hole in the wall. It’s your neighbor, Jerry—the one in the unit right next to you. You’re not happy to see him, especially like this. He’s got a blue 5 o’clock shadow despite the hour, and is clad in ill-fitting gray sweats and a pair of ratty slippers. His distended belly strains at the confines of an oil-stained white shirt, tied with a dingy checkered robe. You barely meet his drooping eyes before looking longingly back at your cracked door down the hall. 

“Just… garbage.” You shift your weight, hiding a wince as you try to find a comfortable position to stand in. Jerry notices this, and you wish his eyes wouldn’t linger on your bare legs like that. 

“Huh. Looks like someone had a late night.”

“Sorry?”

“It’s just noon and you’re still in your PJ’s.”

Disgusting. And who the fuck is he to judge? At least your pajamas are clean. 

You shrug. “Yeah.”

He scratches his bald head. 

“So that boy tired you out pretty good, huh?”

Your stomach drops. Your brain freezes. 

When you don’t reply, he takes the liberty of continuing on. 

“Saw him sneaking out of your apartment in the middle of the night. He looked a little older ’n you. You like ’em older?” His laugh is a cruel bark. “Yeah… He’s a lucky man. You know, it’s natural for a man to like a younger girl. Fresh meat, ’n all.” You try to speak and can only swallow a gag. Jerry adjusts his stance, hands in pockets like he’s telling you a local news story. “Heard some of it. Sounded like you were putting on quite the show. And sure, a young pretty thing like you? Hell, I would if I could. But I’ll tell you right now, you don’t wanna end up like my daughter. She wasn’t as pretty as you, but still—three kids with three men by the time she was 24. She should'a kept her damn legs closed. You know, she loved to cry rape, but you gotta ask yourself, if your legs are open all the damn time, what do you expect? Back in the day we all knew girls like that—” he bats the air dismissively. “Guess you can’t call ’em sluts anymore—they get what they’re asking for one way or another. See, I think everyone still knows it and they’re just too afraid to say it. So my advice: don’t let yourself get used up, you hear me? Not by men who are gonna ride you hard and put you away wet. So to speak. Men can smell a girl like that from a mile away, and they’ll take it as an open invitation. It’s just human nature.”

When he finally stops talking, the hallway fills with a vacuous silence. It makes your ears ring. Several moments pass, but you’re frozen. Your whole body feels intolerably hot but your blood is freezing. How are you supposed to react? 

“Hello?” He says, voice loud enough to hurt your ears as it echoes. 

Get out of here, your more rational self says to the rest of you, and you mumble something, you don’t even know what, excusing yourself to hurry on stiff legs back down the hall to your door. 

Once inside, you do up every lock on your door, and face your apartment, shoulders tensed practically to your ears and fists clenched so tight your arms are trembling. On autopilot you look around for something to do, but there’s nothing. More importantly, nobody.

I’ll call Spencer. He’ll know what to do. 

No, you won’t, your higher self reminds you. You lost your phone. And besides, it’s clearly not like he wanted to stick around last night. Maybe he doesn’t even like you anymore. 

So you’re stuck here. Stranded. Sharks can smell blood. 

Processing that information, you walk back to your bedroom and close the door behind you—before promptly sinking to the ground and burying your face in the duvet with a deep, silent sob.  

That goes on for a few minutes until you realize you’re too achy and you can’t breathe and you’re forced onto your side, curling up in your blanket on the floor like it’s a nest and not a burial plot. 

You shouldn’t get ahead of yourself. A relationship can’t implode twice in 24 hours.  You don’t have your phone. Maybe he’s texted you. 

But is that really all you’re worth? A text sent after the fact? He couldn’t sacrifice a few hours to sleep by your side? Couldn’t even wake you up to say goodbye? You think about the sweet things he’d said afterward—the way he held you, fingers dancing down your spine. Promises he made when you were half asleep in his arms, so sure he’d be there when you woke up. 

Even fucking Jerry the neighbor—who you think might have just sexually harassed you in the hallway—said Spencer should’ve stuck around. 

Fuck. 

No, don’t think about that. It doesn’t even matter. They were just words. 

Heard some of it. Sounded like you put on quite the show. 

Your skin crawls and your stomach turns as you hold yourself tighter. Something that was supposed to be private and special—and some random man not only had a front row seat to your deflowering but felt comfortable talking about it with you. It feels like a violation. Like he crashed a really important party. If you had known you had an audience last night, you never would’ve done it. 

The way he looked at you, tracing your legs with his eyes like he was touching you—

You scramble up from the floor and walk heavily on your knees to the dresser, digging up a pair of pajama pants and a hoodie. You should be showering, but you don’t want to deal with your body right now. You just want to hide. 

Friday evening—present

After your conversation, Spencer seems eager to make sure the car ride to his apartment is not reminiscent of the car ride to yours last night—he holds your hand, resting in your lap, bringing your knuckles to his lips at a red light. Every few moments he glances over at you, maybe to appreciate the view (though you doubt it’s especially scenic at the moment) or perhaps to gauge your mood. The further away you get from your apartment building the better you feel, and you try to focus on that. Sure—maybe you had a shit day, but Spencer’s here now, and he didn’t leave you after all. In fact, since finding your phone, you’ve seen the series of very sweet and highly concerned messages he sent over the course of a few hours. They almost make your stomach hurt. It would’ve been really nice to have those earlier. 

He doesn’t ask you any more of the hard questions, but you sense an inquisition in the works and getting closer with every curious glance he gives you. It’s like he’s unwrapping you, layer by layer, using his impressive cognitive faculties to drill through your skull into your brain and deeper still into your soul. 

Back in his apartment you sit awkwardly on the bed. Last time you’d been here, things hadn’t gone so well for you. 

The shower starts in the adjoined bathroom, and Spencer comes out a moment later, warm light seeping into the darkened bedroom. Purple and dark blue mixing with yellow, like a bruise. 

“Hey. Water’s warm.”

You hum, smoothing the material of his neatly made bed with your palm and watching the way it flattens. That had been your doing. You may have thought he was on the verge of breaking up with you last time you slept here, but you didn’t want to leave his home a mess. Didn’t want to leave any evidence of your having been here. 

A moment passes. You thumb at a thread and don’t look up. 

Spencer crosses the space without a word and crouches in front of you, hands coming up to cup the back of your legs, running knee to ankle and up again. 

“Can you tell me what’s going on? Please?” He asks softly. His voice wrings your heart out. Now that you’re in a completely different space, and you’re not so alone anymore, you’re struggling to sort out your feelings. It should be fine. You’re with Spencer. Presumably he still loves you. 

And you still feel terrible. 

“I don’t really want to talk about it,” you whisper. 

“I know,” he says, just as quietly. 

Spencer doesn’t say anything else. I know you don’t want to—and yet. Your lips twist to the side. He’s persistent. Even in his kindness. It’s not the kind of care that falters or buckles when you try turning it away. 

“My neighbor said he c—” 

You’re forced to stop, frowning by how overcome you are. It shouldn’t be such a big deal. Worse things have happened to you. 

“He said he could hear us. Last night.”

Spencer’s hands stop on your legs. You can’t meet his eyes. You’re afraid whatever you find there won’t be the right thing. 

“He’s in the unit next to you?”

You nod. “We share a wall.”

There’s a moment’s hesitation and your stomach sinks. He doesn’t understand. 

“What did he say?”

“Just… dumb shit,” you scoff, fiercely wiping away a stray tear. “He said he listened and it sounded like I was putting on quite the show. And then he—and then he told me not to let you… use me up, whatever that means. He called me fresh meat, and said I shouldn’t let you ride me hard and put me away wet, and bad things happen to sluts who can’t keep their legs closed.”

You finish with a sharp inhale, briefly leaning down and covering your face with your hands when you realize how upset you really are. You want to hide it. 

A fraught moment passes. Spencer reaches for your hands, no doubt to try and pull them away from your face. You spare him the trouble, sitting up with a cavalier sniff before he can touch you and brushing your hair behind your ears.  

His voice is uncomfortably quiet. You can’t look at him. “Baby…”

“Don’t. It’s fine. I only told you because you asked.”

It’s not his fault, but you’re mad at him anyway, and so you avoid eye-contact like it’s the plague. Maybe it’s just safe to be mad at him. Maybe he knows that. 

Regardless, you’re not in the mood for coddling. It’s borderline repulsive—like trying to mix oil and water. Anything good slides right off of you because maybe you’re not designed to be able to absorb good things.

Nothing changes for a minute—and then he’s standing, offering you a moment alone as he goes to crank the shower off. 

As soon as he’s gone all the air is vacuumed from your lungs and you crumple, heaving it back in silently as your head spins and your heart races. It’s like your mind is split in two—half is primal, overwhelming panic, and the other a cold observatory eye, full of disdain and scorn for what it deems a severe overreaction to a few nasty comments made hours ago. You’re so tangled up as you curl in on yourself on your side that you can’t even cry. You’re just trying to remember how to breathe, ignoring the crawling feeling up your spine and the tingling heat at the back of your neck. The shower stops on the downbeat of your staggered breath, and then it’s silent. He’ll come back at any minute and see what a mess you’ve become. 

You’ve ruined everything. If only you could’ve kept it to yourself. 

When Spencer reappears in the doorway, and sees you collapsed and curling like paper burnt at the edges, he’s quick to return to you. 

“I’m sorry,” you manage, trying and failing to brush away hair from your cheek, which is wet—so you were crying—and Spencer shushes you, pushing it away for you as he kneels. 

“Why are you apologizing?”

“I’m being dramatic, I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

Of course, at the end of that declaration, a sob wrenches its way from the depths of you, so bright and cleaving you half expect the smell of ozone to follow. You follow it with a blisteringly self-deprecating laugh.

“Don’t—don’t do that. Don’t minimize it.”

His hand is warm where it rests over your cheek, affectionate, but he sounds frustrated. You frown and sniffle. 

“What am I supposed to do?”

“Tell me his name.” 

It’s a quiet request, made as gently as his hand cards through the hair at your temple like it’s woven with fragile threads of gold.

“No, Spencer,” you beg, anxiety pooling in your gut and rising in your throat, “please, I don’t want to make it a thing, I don’t want you to talk to him. You’ll just make it worse, it’s fine.”

You look at him imploringly, eyes wide and still welling, hoping to god the gravity of your plead will sink in. His are a bed of coals—somewhere between furious and sympathetic, and you try to appeal to the sympathy. 

“It is not fine. Saying sluts get what’s coming to them is not fine, that is a threat, and I’m not going to talk to him. I’m going to have him fucking arrested.”

You scoff. 

“For talking to me? Yeah, good luck with that. Cops are really known for being helpful when it comes to sexual harassment.”

“Baby. Men who are comfortable violating your boundaries like that are exponentially more likely to commit an actual violent crime. That is not a safe person for you to be around.”

“He’s not gonna rape me, Spencer! He’s just a gross old man! This is why I didn’t want to tell you, because I knew you’d make it a bigger deal than it is! You did it last night and you’re doing it now—you think everyone is out to get me!”

To his credit, he doesn’t so much as raise his voice. 

“Of course it’s a big deal. You’re upset.”

“Yeah, well, it’s my own fault.”

Maybe it’s the wrong thing to say. Spencer goes silent for a moment. 

“It’s your fault?”

“Yes. It’s my fault because… because now everyone knows that I’m…”

His voice goes impossibly soft again. “Knows that you’re what?”

“I mean, what did I expect?” You sniffle. “It’s an apartment. If I didn’t want to deal with the consequences, I shouldn’t’ve done it.”

He says your name like it’s a ring he twists around his finger as he tries to think—to gather the right words. 

“The consequences for having sex do not involve punishment or sexual harassment.”

“It’s the result of my actions, so—”

“No, it’s the result of your neighbor being disgusting. I don’t care what he heard, he doesn’t get to talk to you like that.”

“He—”

“If you heard something you weren’t supposed to hear would you bring it up to the person the next day?”

“Stop interrupting me,” you plead. Spencer looks like he has something to say to that, too, but he swallows it. You close your eyes and take a deep breath. “I… understand that he shouldn’t have said those things to me. But that doesn’t change the fact that he did, and it was really, really uncomfortable and I don’t wanna—I don’t wanna go back now. Maybe that’s dramatic, but…”

You trail off, studying the ceiling as a fresh wash of tears dampen your cheeks. Spencer’s hand slides down your waist as you wipe your face. “I don’t regret the fact that we slept together. I just regret everything that’s happened since, and if I didn’t do it last night, none of this would’ve happened. I feel like he ruined everything.”

The words end on another cry and you put your hand over your eyes like you could stop it all from coming out. You sniffle. Spencer is quiet for a moment. 

“I’m sorry,” he eventually whispers, his own voice threaded with emotion. “I…”

He sighs. You push your hair back and look at him. 

“What?”

He studies you, chewing on his lip like a nervous tick you’ve never seen before. You sit up again, feet balanced on the edge of the bed frame. Spencer’s eyes remain stuck on you. Again, you ask, “What?”

“I didn’t think about it until you brought it up earlier, but—I did see someone. Him, I think, when I went out to my car to get my bag. He was smoking when I came out, and when I got back into the lobby he was waiting for the elevator. We took it up together, he—he said something to me, so I know he saw me going back to you. I don’t know why he made it sound like I left.”

You frown. “What did he say?”

Spencer hesitates. 

“He asked if I had a long night. He was obviously commenting on the fact that I was basically half-dressed and getting an overnight bag from my car at one in the morning, so he could probably gather from context what was going on, but… my point is, he knew I came back and it seems like he was almost trying to make you think I didn’t. So for whatever reason, maybe he was lying about being able to hear you, too. Maybe he just wanted to make you uncomfortable.”

“That’s a long shot, Spencer.”

“I know, but… it’s not that long. He obviously gets off on it—and besides, he said you were putting on a show, but you weren’t… you weren’t loud, last night.”

Heats blossoms in your cheeks and you look down at your lap. “Thin walls.”

“Have you ever heard your neighbors before?”

You have to seriously think about it. 

“I’ve heard them yelling…”

“Nothing else?”

Again, you consider it. The answer comes as a surprise. 

“No.”

“Okay, so… does that maybe help a little bit? I really, really don’t want you to feel like last night was a mistake in any way, or let anyone ruin it for you.”

You breathe deeply. “I know. It… it kinda helps, yeah.”

His hands come to the top of your legs. There’s so much genuine care and concern in his eyes. “Yeah?”

Only when you nod does he relax some. His hands skim your thighs, and you set yours on top of his own. For a few breaths, it’s quiet. And then you laugh. 

“What?” Spencer asks, a tentative smile curling his own lips like he doesn’t know if he should be concerned or participate in your mirth. 

“I—I don’t know how to say it without being cheesy,” you admit, sniffling the last of your tears away and smiling softly down at him. 

“I think you should say it.”

You link your fingers with his on your lap, watching the way they twine like it’s what they were meant to do. 

“I was just thinking about how I had, like, the worst day ever. And how much worse it would’ve gotten if you didn’t show up when you did—I would’ve completely spiraled. But you did show up. And how easy it is to kind of compartmentalize, because I have you, and when I’m with you… nothing feels as hard. You make the bad things feel smaller, I guess.”

By the end, it got a lot more real than you’d intended, and your face feels warm, and your stomach is sort of floaty—but you don’t look away from Spencer. You hold his gaze, though it makes you a little nervous, because you want him to know you mean it. 

He inhales, like he’s going to say something, but he doesn’t—only looks at you, like you’re beautiful and impossible and a defiance of everything he thought he knew, which was almost everything. To him, you’re expansive. A gorgeous anomaly.

And then he stands, holding his hands out for you. Without question you take them, and he pulls you to your feet, absorbing the momentum that threatens to topple you, and he wraps his arms around you tightly. So tight you have to laugh. 

“I love you,” he says against your shoulder, one hand coming to cradle the back of your head. 

Your humor softens, but doesn’t become inflexible—still tinges your words with the perfect amount of euphoria and relief. “I love you.”

“Thanks,” he mumbles, and your laughter flares again. 

“You don’t have to thank me.”

“But I’m grateful. I… I feel lucky.”

Always so earnest, so vulnerable, when you’re least expecting it—which should be always, you’re learning. You pull back to look up at him. You don’t want that concession to go unrewarded. 

“Me too,” you say softly. He’s doing that fond thing with his eyes, where they’re all soft and it’s like he’s trying to take in every millimeter of your face. This time when he goes to touch your hair, you have the wherewithal to dodge it. 

“You’re really brave for trying to touch my hair right now.”

“Why?” He asks, utterly bewildered, and the softness of the moment falls away easily, but not without leaving everything smudged and fuzzy around the edges. Everything is still okay. It’s still good. 

“Because it’s dirty,” you laugh, dodging him again and eventually ducking from the circle of his arms entirely. 

“Oh, your hair is dirty? Should we breakup?”

“Hm. I don’t really like when you take on that tone with me.” You’re still half-laughing, dipping and weaving past him toward the bathroom as he tries to get you in his arms again. And then you stop, toes just short of the tile. 

“What is it?” He asks after another moment. You blink, looking at the shower head as it drips. 

“Um—would it be okay if I had a five minute headstart in the shower?”

“Sure. Is everything okay?”

“It’s fine. I just… I need a minute.”

His hand skims your waist as he passes by you through the open door. “Okay. Why don’t you grab your stuff and I’ll get the water going again?”

Soon enough, you’re remembering how much better his water pressure is than yours as you stand under the torrent, eyes closed as if in prayer. You definitely could’ve stood to shower earlier in the day. But you had other concerns, earlier, and besides—you were afraid of what you might find. 

And you were right to be. The sex was nice. The aftermath isn’t quite as pretty. 

When Spencer taps on the bathroom door, you’re nervous. 

“You can come in,” you call. 

“You sure? If you want it all to yourself, that’s okay too.”

“No, no. It’s fine.”

The door creaks open, and gently clicks into place again, and fabric rustles as he undresses, and soon the shower curtain is sliding aside and he’s stepping in. Unsurprisingly, the space feels smaller with him in it—but not small in a bad way. It feels warmer. Again you’re awash in that safe feeling, which you didn’t realize you’d been missing so much today. 

“Hi,” he smiles, a teasing sliver of what you know to be the most brilliant light in the world, and stunning like the rest of him as you watch the water begin to darken his hair. 

“Hello.”

His smile flickers briefly wider like you’re his favorite thing and he just can’t contain his joy, and then it’s easing again, giving you a moment to catch your breath. 

“Is it okay if I touch you?”

In this alien context the idea has your heart pounding—you don’t really understand the concept of casual nudity yet, but you know he’ll respect your earlier wishes to keep it chaste and so you nod. 

Spencer doesn’t take you immediately in his arms like you’d expected—instead his hands find a rest at your collarbones and carefully push your wet hair back over your shoulders—but his eyes aren’t cast quite low enough to be indecent. They connect dots over your chest and neck, and he thumbs at one just over your pulse point. 

“Oh, man,” he laughs, and you think you detect a hint of self-deprecation. “That’s… wow, I didn’t realize I… sorry. They don’t hurt, do they?”

It’s your turn to smile as he’s suddenly over-concerned. 

“No, they don’t hurt.”

“Good.” He looks relieved, but it doesn’t last as his eyes trace lower—though you don’t sense any hunger in it. He’s just taking you in. “How about everywhere else?”

“Um… it’s not bad. Kind of, like… I don’t know. Sore. But it’s not bad.”

“Still?” He frowns, clearly unfazed by your evident embarrassment on the subject. You shrug and avert your eyes. 

“It’s fine. it was worse earlier, so.”

That does not have the calming effect you’d intended. 

“Worse? 1-10, how—”

“Spencer, it’s fine, I promise. It’s only when I—when I move certain ways, I notice. Honestly the… blood… was way more disconcerting to me.”

“Yeah, I saw your bed… sorry for ruining your sheets. I’ll buy you new ones.”

You shrug, watching the water run in rivulets down your arm and branch off into tributaries and waterfalls from your fingers. “You don’t have to do that. It was a collaborative effort.”

Normally this conversation would have you melting into an embarrassed puddle, but something about the tile cocoon of the shower, the humid fog, the proximity, feels safe. The white noise of water on porcelain, the warmth. You go to him at the same time as he comes to you—his arms around your waist, yours slung over his shoulders. Your eyes flutter shut. Falling asleep standing up has never seemed so plausible until now. 

He presses a kiss to your head. You sigh. 

“Ugh. I don’t want to deal with washing my hair.”

“I can do it,” Spencer immediately offers. You frown. 

“I was—you don’t have to. I didn’t mean to make it sound like I was asking.”

“I know you didn’t.”

“It’s a process.”

“I understand.”

“You would have to do it exactly how I say.”

“I am willing to learn. I like taking care of you.”

You’re glad for the hot water, then, and as he washes your hair. You’re not sure if you’re crying at the tenderness of his touch, or the way he loves you like you’re easy to love. You’re too tired to explain it. 

He doesn’t push you, because he never pushes you. 

He just washes your hair. 

[spookyscarydemonbabe]

Filthy

Summary- Eddie gets a stomach dropping call from you, asking to pick you up and take you home from the party you were invited to. As soon as he arrives, he can see just how awful your night must’ve been. *i was informed that there’s two definitions for what a ‘Pig Party’ is so for context, a pig party is where guys only invite ‘unattractive’ girls*

Genre- Hurt/Comfort

Warnings- mentions of sa (nothing explicit), awful frat guys doing awful things

Tag List- @thatsthewaythechrissycrumbles @munsonology @esme-viridian @gvf23 @wheels-of-despair @goatsmcgee @flawiette

(if you’d like to be added to the tag list please let me know 🖤)

Word Count- 4.6k

“That’s not fair!” Grant whined from his spot at the lunch table, “Why do you get to go to some big college party and not us?!”

“Because,” You had said once again with an eye roll, “I was the only one that got invited. Besides, it’s supposed to be a date. I think?”

“You think?” Jeff asked after sipping from his can of Pepsi.

“Yeah, i mean the guy didn’t ask officially if i wanted to go as a date, he just said i looked like i’d fit in and he’d love to bring me.”

“Who even is this guy?” Eddie asked with a shrug, his arms crossed over his chest.

“His names Chris, i met him at the mall last weekend. Why, you mad he got to me first?” You said with a grin, noticing the dusting of pink on the apples of Eddie’s cheeks the moment you mentioned your college boys name.

“No, i’m asking because we’ve never met the guy, and to be honest with you… i don’t think he’d walk up to any random girl and ask them to go to some party with him.”

The table went quiet for a moment.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You asked, your tone easily giving away your anger.

“Dude, i’d shut it if i were you.” Gareth said quietly to Eddie.

“No,” You said as you leaned back on your chair, eyebrows furrowed in frustration and your arms crossed over your chest as you waited for a response from Eddie, “I want him to explain himself. What, am i not pretty enough to get approached by college guys?”

“I didn’t say that!” Eddie argued.

“What is it then, are you jealous of him? Or maybe you’re just pissed because i got invited to a college party and you only show up when they need drugs?”

“Hey, quiet down (y/n).” Jeff whispered to you, trying his best to calm the situation down before it got any worse.

“No! I’m tired of you always being such an asshole whenever shit like this happens. You’re supposed to be my friend, you’re supposed to be happy for me when things like this happen but every fucking time you always get so pissy about it.” You stood up quickly, the metal legs of your chair screeching on the linoleum floor as you grabbed your bag, “Talk to me again when you decide to stop being a child.”

You hit his shoulder hard as you walked past, the boys staring as they watched you exit the cafeteria and enter the halls through the double doors. Gareth turned to Eddie with an annoyed look in his eyes,

“Again? Really?”

“What?!” Eddie yelled out, “What did i do?!”

“Eddie, she’s right. Every time something good happens to her, especially when it’s got something to do with some guy, you manage to get yourself bitched at because you’re too much of a pussy to actually tell her you like her.”

“I do not!” Eddie argued back. The raised eyebrows and frustrated stares were enough to tell Eddie that he really did do the same thing every time. Without even noticing. “…Do i?”

“Yes!” The three shouted in unison.

“That’s what happens when you don’t accept that you like her…” Jeff chuckled to himself, teasing Eddie as the other boys joined in a laugh.

“Oh please, like you guys don’t get jealous about stuff like that too.” Eddie rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, but at least we don’t have to see and talk to the girls we like every day. You do. That’s why it’s different.” Grant joked, clearly trying to get a rise out of Eddie.

“Me and (y/n) are just friends. That’s it. Always have been… Always will be.” Eddie sighed.

“You hesitated.” Gareth chuckled.

“Shut the fuck up. You’re wrong, we’re friends. I don’t know why i get like that, i just can’t help it.” Eddie shrugged and slumped in his seat, so unsure of himself.

The thought of you being with him had never crossed his mind, but the signs were there. He thought back on all the other times he’d been an asshole to you over something like this, and the guys were right, it always had something to do with you being involved with some guy.

“Whatever man, if you gotta tell yourself that to be happy then so be it.” Gareth smiled and downed the last of the can of Dr. Pepper in front of him before standing to clear the table. The other boys followed suit, clearing the lunch table before grabbing their things and heading off to class.

Eddie was never the school type, but now he couldn’t keep his thoughts straight. All he could think about was you.

Did he like you?

He couldn’t. Like he had always said, you were just friends. Every guy gets a little irritated when their friend blows them off to hang out with someone else. Every guy gets jealous when hearing about how good a date was the night before. Every guy can’t help but get nervous when their friend asks how they look when trying on a new dress. Every guy gets tense when their arms get grabbed to keep together in the halls.

Didn’t they?

All he could think about was every single interaction the two of you had since you’ve met, and wether he wanted to admit it or not, every single thing was an indication of a crush. And he hated knowing that not only were the guys right to be teasing him about something so childish, but he hated knowing how you must’ve felt whenever he treated you badly.

The rest of the day was a blur.

He managed to finish classes, drive home, and lay in bed staring at the ceiling without any perception of time. He didn’t even notice Wayne calling into his room nearly 30 minutes ago to tell him dinner was ready.

It consumed him.

You. How he treated you. And how he shouldn’t have been stupid enough for even himself to not notice how much he really liked you. All he had hoped was that this was something he could apologize for. It was definitely deserved.

As Eddie sighed and finally sat up on the edge of his bed, he jumped in surprise from the sudden ringing of the phone in the hall. He checked the clock and saw that it was already 7 pm, and at this point Wayne would’ve been gone for work.

He stood and stretched, wandering into the hall and taking the phone off of the handset at its fourth ring.

“Hello?” He groaned out.

“Eddie?…”

His attention was grabbed immediately. As soon as he heard your voice whimper his name on the other end he was filled with a mixture of relief and concern.

“Hey, (y/n), are you ok?”

“No…” He could hear a faint sniffle, and the shakiness of your voice was indication enough for him to tell that tears had been shed, “Can you please come get me?”

“Yeah! Yes, of course, where are you?” Eddie frantically searched for his keys, pulling the spiral cord as far as it could go into his room as he grabbed his jacket.

“I’m at that party… 247 Stewart Street, it’s just past the mall…”

“I’ll be right there! Stay put ok? I’ll be there in less than 15, i promise.”

Eddie hung up the phone and quickly ran outside to the van, shoving the key into the ignition and pulling out as fast as he could onto the gravel road. He didn’t know what happened, but he did know that whatever happened to make you so uncomfortable and worried enough to call him of all people it must’ve been bad.

He sped out onto the road, not even bothering to pay attention to the stop signs unless he knew there was a cop waiting around the corner. He didn’t want to take any chances of anything else happening, or god forbid something else happening to you. Eddie was just thankful that he could tell exactly which house it was on the street.

It was a larger house near the end of the street, cars filled the driveway and out on the lawn he saw a few girls comforting each other as one stood in the middle. Her cheeks were red and her eyes filled with tears. Whatever happened inside, it couldn’t be good.

He parked the van in front of the driveway, blocking in the freshly waxed cars that were parked so neatly with his van. It may have been a shitbox, but it made a damn good barricade.

Eddie couldn’t help the anger bubbling up inside. This was more than just a little tiff happening and you needed him for backup, you gave him a cry for help and there was no way in hell he was going to ignore it. He took one last deep breath to calm himself, or at least to keep him from immediately throwing punches as soon as the front door opened.

His fist pounded on the door and he stood there and waited with his arms crossed over his chest. At least he knew that given his reputation he could be pretty intimidating. The door slowly opened and a college age looking boy opened the door with a smile and a half filled red solo cup in hand,

“Can i help you?” He smirked, looking Eddie up and down.

“Where’s (y/n)?” Eddie said sternly, more like a demand than a question for whoever this boy was and the gaggle of clones behind him.

“Oh!” He laughed, “Yeah, her. She locked herself in the bathroom down the hall,” The boy stepped back and held his arm out to welcome Eddie inside, pointing him in the direction of the door beneath the stairs, “She’s all yours.” He laughed before taking a swig from his cup.

Eddie wandered inside, not before ‘accidentally’ bumping into this stranger and causing whatever drink was left in the cup to spill all down the front of his polo.

The other guys inside were all the same. Drunk, rich, and certainly not paying any attention to any of the girls that they had asked to come to this party. Eddie noticed a few others sitting on the den couch together silently.

He leaned into the bathroom door and rapped his knuckles against it gently,

“(y/n)? It’s Eddie, you in there?”

Without a second to catch his breath the door swung open and your arms wrapped tightly around his torso. He couldn’t get a good look at your face, but your eyes were swollen and your cheeks red. You must’ve been crying in there until he had come to get you.

“Please take me home…” You whispered up to him without even as much as looking at him.

His arm went around your shoulder to guide you out the door, your face looking down at the ground, shielding yourself from the smiling and snickering faces of the boys around you. Eddie could feel your arms grip him tighter as one of them said ‘Bye (y/n)’ in a mocking tone.

To say he was pissed would be the least of it.

Eddie slowly walked you out to the van, opening the passenger side door for you and helping you inside. He had finally noticed how put together you looked, how your makeup had been smeared down your cheeks from the tears, how your dress was bunched up at the end in your hands. He needed to know what the hell happened inside to not only cause you so much despair, but the other girls too.

He walked around to the drivers side and slammed his door, sitting there in silence for a moment before turning over to you,

“What happened in there (y/n)?” You could hear how concerned he was, but having to repeat the events from earlier would’ve made you break down again.

“Nothing… Just please, take me home…” You said quietly.

“No.” Eddie said angrily, grabbing your attention, “Tell me what happened.”

“Eddie please…”

“(y/n), the last time we talked today you stormed off so pissed at me it seemed like you never wanted to breathe the same air as me. You call me, sobbing, telling me to come get you at a place i know you’ve never been to. That house is full of drunk assholes and every other girl here is in the same position you are, meanwhile they’re all inside being buddy-buddy and having the time of their lives. What did they do to you?”

He needed to hear it from you that you were alright, but your silence was only scaring him more. Your eyes shut tight as you took a deep breath, a few stray tears falling down your cheeks as you thought over the last hour once more in your head. It was so difficult to say, but you knew Eddie wouldn’t leave you alone until he knew what the problem was.

“(y/n), please.” He was pleading with you to speak, “Did they hurt you? Did they… touch you?”

“No.” You whimpered.

“Tell me.” Eddie wasn’t asking, he was demanding. Not for your own good, but for those assholes inside.

You took one last deep breath, your head resting in your hand as your arm propped you up against the passenger side door.

“Everything was fine at first. That guy Chris, the one from the mall, picked me up and kept telling me about how it was gonna be such a great night.” You paused for an eye roll and a quick wipe away of the tears starting to pool in your eyes again, “All the guys inside already had their dates there, and they’re all super nice girls, and we all really got along so we were with each other having a good time while the guys were in the other room. They said they were getting the last big thing set up for all of us.” Eddie listened so intently on every word, giving you all the time you needed and as many breaks to sniffle or recollect your thoughts as you needed, “When they called us into that main dining room the table was set up and in the middle of the room…” You paused and shut your eyes tight, shaking your head in disbelief that something like that had actually been thought out and planned by those assholes, “there was a pig that had a crown on it and they tied a name tag to it that said ‘Michelle’. It was a pig party and i guess she was the ‘winner’.” You said with air quotes, looking out Eddie’s window and seeing her crying in the yard, quickly pointing over to her. “That’s her. She’s really nice, she’s a freshman studying Biochem at their college.”

To say Eddie was enraged would be the least of it.

How dare they humiliate not only you, but all those other girls they had invited. Eddie knew how excited you were about this, and he can’t imagine how all those other girls felt when you finally realized the real reason why they were invited. Not one of them deserved to be treated this way, and he was shocked to see how pretty all those girls were. They were people too, and no one deserves to feel that way.

Eddie peered out his window and saw Michelle and her friends start to calm her down. Each one of them was dressed up so nicely, their hair and makeup done. They must’ve been getting ready for hours for this, only to be shot down the moment they set foot through the door.

He’d handle this.

“I’ll be back.” He said through gritted teeth, quickly reaching over and grabbing something from the glovebox before slamming the door behind him.

“Eddie…” You said with concern, not wanting this to turn into another night where the cops were called, “Eddie.” You followed behind him quickly, leaving the van after him.

He turned to you and grabbed your shoulders,

“(y/n). I can handle this.” Eddie looked into your eyes, and you could sense that though he wanted to rip them a new one, he wasn’t going to end up in handcuffs by the end of the night, “Tell the other girls they can wait in the van, there should be enough seats, and just wait for me. Ok?”

You took a slow, deep breath, nodding your head as you glanced over to Michelle and the other girls on the lawn,

“Ok. I’m trusting you to not get yourself in trouble again.”

“I won’t.” Eddie flashed you a smile that told you all you needed to hear. He can take care of this.

You parted ways, you wandering over to the group of girls on the lawn as Eddie walked back up to the front door. Just as he was about to knock, the girls sitting on the sofa inside had gathered and made their way outside, flinching a bit as they saw Eddie at the door. He offered them a sympathetic smile as they walked over to you and the group of girls on the lawn. Eddie put on his game face, and he was thankful his over the top acting from DMing so many sessions would finally pay off.

“Hey!” He said with a smile to the same guy that answered the door for him, “(y/n) just told me all about this party,” He leaned in with a cheeky smile still on his face, “you were really able to pull this off that easily huh?”

“Yeah man!” He replied, obviously drunk, “And it was so easy too! Who are you by the way?”

“Oh, I’m Michael,” Eddie was quick to think up a fake name, “she called me to come pick her up but honestly… It’s too funny to not call up my friends and tell them about it.” Eddie laughed along with Chris, happy that his act was going over so well. “Can i use your phone man? The whole school needs to know about this.”

“Go ahead, in the kitchen,” Chris hiccuped as he pointed down the hall, “should be on the wall. Help yourself go this stuff too man, you’re welcome to stay.” Chris chuckled, “And you know, if you want, i can put in a good word with the head of the frat for you. We definitely could use someone like you here.”

Eddie nodded as a quick ‘thank you’ and wandered through the maze of other sloppy drunks to the kitchen phone. He recognized a few faces from a couple of deals he made over the summer, he was just hoping they didn’t recognize him. As Eddie entered the kitchen he could see the pig still in the dining room, the wooden plank with Michelle’s name on it was still hung around its neck. He was disgusted, but if he got this far, he knew the rest of the plan would work out.

Eddie took the phone off the handset and quickly dialed in Gareths number, hoping he wouldn’t take forever to pick up.

“Hello?” Gareth said, confused as to who could’ve been calling him this late.

“Hey, it’s Eddie. Call up the guys and be at the diner in 20.”

“What? Eddie, it’s like 9 o’clock at night, why?”

“I’ll explain when i get there. Something happened with (y/n) at that party, and now i’ve got a van full of girls that need some knights in shining armor.”

“Done. See you in 20.”

Eddie chuckled quietly to himself as he turned his body to the wall, making sure no one could see him punch in the number of Hawkins’ police station. They picked up on the first ring, and Eddie smiled as he placed his hand into his pocket, palming the baggie he took from the glovebox.

“Hawkins Police,” Eddie recognized the voice from his various encounters and adjusted himself to fix his voice, “what is your emergency?”

“Hi,” Eddie deepened his voice enough to make himself sound more grown up, maybe then they’d take it a little more seriously, “there’s a house just down the street from mine and they’re having some kind of party? They’re loud, they’re obnoxious, and to be frank, i wouldn’t be surprised if they were smoking some funny stuff in there too. There was smoke billowing out the upstairs window like a chimney!”

“Thank you sir, what’s the address?”

Eddie grinned wide and relayed the fraternity address back to the officer on the other end. For someone with a decent amount of run ins with them before, talking to the cops was a lot easier than he thought. Especially when he wasn’t the one in trouble.

He hung up the phone and cleared his throat, holding the baggie tight in his pocket to keep it secure as he glanced around to find the perfect hiding spot for it. As soon as he spotted one of the letterman jackets across the back of a chair he knew it was the perfect obvious spot for one of these idiots to stash a bag of weed. And enough to get them put away, at least for the night.

Eddie made himself seem so comfortable in there he figured they wouldn’t bat an eye if he had been wandering for a bit. He approached the jacket, passing the pig through the dining room as it lay underneath the table snoring away. It was so much easier than he thought it would’ve been.

Just as quickly as he came in, he made sure to get himself out of there quickly. Not before putting on his little act again as he said ‘goodbye’ to the few of them that were able to slur their words out as best as they could. With all the liquor they’ve had combined with that weed stashed in the pocket of whatever poor asshole the jacket belonged to, he was certain justice would be served. Rightfully this time.

Just before Eddie made his way out the door, Chris gave him a wave and called him over, clearly drunk. As badly as he wanted to leave, he had to keep this act up. Eddie wandered over to him with a smile on his face, grabbing Chris’ hand as he stuck it out for Eddie to take,

“Leaving? Already?”

“Yeah, i gotta get home,” Eddie groaned, “thanks for letting me use your phone, this’ll be all over the school by tomorrow.” He said with a laugh.

“Perfect.” Chris said with a smile, doing his best to keep his words clear, “And remember, if you want, i’ll put in a good word for you next year. Make sure they don’t go to hard on you with the hazing.” He said with a wink before patting Eddie on the back and going back to fill his solo cup.

Eddie nodded and swiftly made his way out the door, seeing the girls no longer on the lawn calmed his nerves a little bit. He glanced back to the house as he walked to the van, smiling big to you as he climbed into the drivers seat.

“Let’s get out of here, i called the cops so they should be here any minute.”

“Oh god, what did you do?” You groaned as he started up the van, you and the girls in the back rows of seats quickly buckling in. You made sure to warn them of Eddie driving the moment they stepped inside.

“You know,” Eddie shrugged as he made a quick u-turn to leave the subdivision, “left them a little parting gift hidden in one of their jackets.”

“You didn’t.” You couldn’t help the smile slowly tugging at your lips. Good, they deserved whatever they have coming to them. “Eddie, these are the girls .” You motioned to the group of six girls in the rows behind you, “Girls, this is Eddie. He’s gonna take us all home.” The other girls behind you offered kind smiles and quiet ‘hellos’ as Eddie smiled and nodded his head to them.

“Oh yeah, about that, change of plans.”

You snapped your head back to face him with a look of confusion on yours and the other girls faces,

“What do you mean?” You asked him, and he could hear the slight worry in your voice.

“I called some friends up, they’re gonna meet us at the diner. I know it’s not the fanciest place,” He glanced up in the rear view mirror to look at the girls in the back of the van, “but i feel bad for how those guys treated you back there. Besides, you all got dressed up and you look good, i didn’t want that to go to waste.”

The girls smiled to themselves, and even you were blushing at how sweet it was of Eddie to still make sure you had the best night that you could. Especially under the earlier circumstances.

The drive to the diner was short, and as Eddie pulled the van in you saw Gareth, Jeff and Grant leaned up against Jeff’s car in the parking lot. They had seen you from the passenger side and gave their usual smiles and waves, and you knew from the way they had looked more put together than normal that Eddie had to have mentioned there would be girls involved. They approached the van as Eddie put it into park and he quickly stepped out, rushing over to the other side to slide open the back door for the girls before opening the passenger door for you.

“Thank you.” You said with a smile as Eddie held his arm out to assist. You turned to the girls as they started to slowly make their way out of the van, “Girls, this is Jeff, Gareth and Grant,” You said as the boys approached the van with smiles on their faces as each one of the girls made their way out, “they’re friends of mine, they’re very nice.”

Each of the boys gave them a kind smile and the girls gave them one back, trying their best to make sure that they still looked good after being at that party. But they were excited to know that there were at least a few more nice guys out there, and with you vouching for them they knew that it would be so much better being around them than with those frat boys.

As you all slowly made your way inside, each of the boys with a girl on either side of them, you trailed back with Eddie as they all got more acquainted with one another.

“Hey,” You grabbed Eddie’s forearm and gently pulled him back, “thank you, for everything tonight. I know i was kind of bitchy at school today…”

“No, don’t apologize! I’m sorry for always being so pissy, i guess i just don’t know what comes over me whenever you mention stuff like that.” He shrugged, and though he knew exactly why he always acted that way, he didn’t want to drop it all on you at once. After the night you’d had, you needed something else on your mind.

“You know,” You say teasingly, taking a step closer, “i think it might be jealousy.”

“Jealous?” Eddie laughed, “(y/n), i’m not jealous.” You stared him down for a moment with a smile on your face, your arms crossing over your chest. Eddie knew when he was found out. “Ok, fine. Maybe i might be just a little bit jealous. Happy?” He smiled.

“Very.” You shrugged, taking one last step to close the gap between you two, planting a quick kiss onto his cheek, “Come on,” You grasped his arm and tugged it as you made your way to the door, “You can make it up to me with a milkshake.”

[illubean]

Could I get headcanons for Feitan, Illumi, Leorio, and Chrollo falling for gn!reader who by all means seems like a strong, nuturing, emotionally stable individual but every once in awhile casually says or does smthin that makes people go "Oh you're a little fuckin nuts, actually"

(e.x.: Most of their D.I.Y. furniture is made of different kinds of bone, morbidly interested in the more gorey parts of their jobs, probably works in a field that allows them to be around the dead often like a taxidermist or a mortitian, highkey just unabashashedly a morbid little freak™️ whenever it comes up naturally in conversation but otherwise comes across as just an attentive lil guy you could bring home the average parents would love.)

HXH Men with a Morbid!S/o

Characters: Leorio Paladaknight, Illumi Zoldyck, Chrollo Lucilfer, Feitan Portor Type: Headcanons, Gn!reader

this is so me

Warnings: dead things and body parts and stuff

Leorio Paladaknight

being an aspiring doctor, Leorio thought that your knowledge on both human and animal anatomy was pretty useful

at first he didn't think much about your job and just assumed you were some type of doctor or biologist or something

he often asks you questions as he studies and you're a pretty good tutor

the first time Leorio realized you were kinda weird is when one day you were walking down the street and saw some roadkill

and you were like "aww too bad, the skin and bones are too damaged to harvest"

and you kept walking like it was normal while he was like ?!!??!?

or you guys were having a normal conversation and you say something like

"if you died i'd taxidermy you and re-articulate your skeleton so you'd be with me forever <3"

1 taxidermizing humans is illegal and 2 WHAT

he is cold sweating wtf did he get himself into

when he comes to your house for the first time and sees a bunch of bones, animal skins and wet specimens he damn near passes the fuck out

how do you just casually have dead things and remains around your house!?

AND WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU MADE YOUR COFFEE TABLE OUT OF CAMEL BONES?

he is freaking the fuck out and you're just like "dw everything is ethically sourced :D"

yeah he thinks you're a freak and he is too fearful to break up with you ever (not like he was planning to anyways)

Illumi Zoldyck

whatever drew Illumi to you had to have been some type of power

aside from that power, to Illumi you were relatively normal and had a good grip on your emotions which made you a perfect candidate

that being said he could care less what your job was, you'd just end up working for or with him eventually

when he started bringing you around the estate, you often sought out their guard dog Mike and Illumi couldn't think of why

that is until you came back one day with a human femur and bright smile on your face

"... where did you even get that?" "From one of Mike's victims. If I collect enough I could make a whole set of bar stools!"

he blinked at you and chose to ignore your statement

i mean, to each their own am i right?

so you have ah hobby, big deal

Illumi just thinks you're pretty normal personality wise until you randomly but casually drop information about what you do in your free time or have in your home

so now whenever he has a job Illumi calls you in for cleanup

you get to do.... whatever it is you do and there's no evidence of a dead body left behind, it's a win win

Chrollo Lucilfer

he couldn't care less what your job is because it's probably not worse than his 😭

he didn't really notice anything "morbid" about you until he asked about your jewlery

you wore things like resin caster bug pendants or bird skull earrings and stuff

he just assumed they were fake and you bought them because they looked badass

but then you told him you make it all YOURSELF

he is intrigued

he doesn't really question you past that because you were probably buying the bones and stuff somewhere (spoiler alert you're not)

what really caused him to think was when you casually just picked up a dead rat off the floor in some abandoned building you were exploring and suck it in your pocket

bro was so confused

"What do you need that for?" "To make a new necklace :3"

yeah now he knows that your odd taste in jewelry goes deeper than just that

he won't judge you though, if anything you're a better person than he is considering you don't kill things yourself

he is literally a murderer and a thief and has committed like 3467633788 crimes so he couldn't judge even if he wanted to

so now when he sees dead animals and what not he bags them up and brings them to you

he likes to sit in on your cleaning and making process

you seem like a perfectly normal and sweet person to everyone else but Chrollo knows about your freaky little hobby and it just makes him like you even more

Feitan Portor

I feel like for you and Feitan to even be acquainted you have to be part of the troupe

whatever you do outside of it is your business

buttttttt since you are his s/o and Feitan is probably homeless he crashes wherever you are

thus him finding out about your hobby and other job

out of everyone on this list he is the most interested

he too is a morbid little freak

he goes with you to find things and will help you with the cleaning/taxidermy or whatever process if you let him

what he doesn't understand though is why you don't just kill the things you want instead of hunting for already dead things

sometimes he will go catch like a squirrel or something and bring it back to you like a cat and tell you he found it like that

Fei baby. No the fuck you didn't

after doing what you're doing for so long you can tell what caused an animal to die but you wouldn't tell him that

he's just so cute and wants to be supportive of your hobby <3