#wow typing that brought me right back

[oatmilktruther]

if i make any estimations about how long this fic will be i will end up clowning myself but i will simply say that i should not be surprised that i have so much shit to fucking say about t4t knight stede/crown princess ed.

[clawsdevour]

victory reward

wc: 2.1k content warning: post-time skip, established relationship, ushijima x reader, smut, hinting towards a sex marathon, mention of semen retention, size kink, cream pie, not proofread

び˚ˎ 。

The final sound of the spike that your husband, Ushijima Wakatoshi, landed on the volleyball court secured the win for Japan in the Paris Olympics volleyball game. The cheering after Japan’s winning still rang in your ears when you left to go backstage in order to meet with Ushijima when he step foot off the blazing court.

“Toshi!! Right here!” Screaming against all of the sounds that resonated in the crowded hallway to get his attention. His stone cold eyes meet yours and softened immediately when he made his way to your direction. The closer he stepped towards you, his warm welcoming arms opened for a big hug despite being drenched in sweat.

“Hey love, did you watch me play all day?” Falling into his strong arms that held you closer to him, a faint smile spreading on his lips as you nod into his chest. The crowds’ are walking around you two while you quickly chatted in place about the match that just finished.

Leaving the big and roaring venue, the cold air hits your face once you step foot outside. Your arm clings with his for warmth, walking alongside him trying to not get caught up with the other people who strolled by. You’re praising him for his skills and the last strike he landed on court that brought Japan to it’s next match in the Olympics. He’s smiling to himself, content with the victory and the fact he now knows that you came and watched him play the whole time.

“When we get back to our hotel, are you gonna reward me?” Ushijima peers down to see your awestruck face frozen in surprise due to his silly attempt at hinting you two to do something suggestive. Ushijima’s not the type to ask for intercourse often, you’d have to pounce on him and have a whole build up to get to the tip of it because of how stern and naive he could be. Not to mention, his busy schedule to keep his volleyball skills and physique in check.

“Haha, Toshi would you even take my reward if I gave it to you?” Giggling to play with him a bit, half serious. He’s putting back on his game face as his piercing eyes scream out a simple Yes which was all you needed to know. He was serious, he must’ve been waiting for a long time to be buried in you once more.

The moment you enter and close your hotel door was the moment where his big silhouette carried and dropped you onto the springy and plush king sized bed. Ushijima’s hands are placed by your ears, trapping you in position underneath his heavy and athletic frame.

Wrapping your hands around his head as he leaned into you to share an intimate kiss on the lips. He couldn’t wait and be patient any longer, his tongue pokes through to completely take over the inside of your mouth. Ushijima roughly dominates the kiss by massaging his tongue around yours while you continuously moaned into the heated gesture. At some point he had to pull away to let you both breathe a little. 

Your lips were barely touching while you breathed in each others warm air, a bit dizzy from that intoxicating kiss. His honest and dark olive eyes couldn’t keep off of your slightly swollen reddened lips as he went in for another one. Tracing the shape of your lips with the tip of his tongue, you watched through his long fluttering lashes. Sucking on your bottom lip, eager for your tongue to slip into his mouth as you felt his thick fingers caress the side of your face. 

“I’m so.. Hard right now, it hurts. I haven’t let it out in so long.” Ushijima’s hot and raspy voice whispered in your ear. Tilting your head to meet his vulnerable face, his hand reaches for yours so he could lead you to feel what’s in between his tight shorts. Wow, his bulge was real big and stiff. You haven’t fucked with your husband in a month or two due to his intensive training schedule. Of course, he hasn’t let out any of his steam while being so caught up practicing to play for the Olympics. 

“You could let it all out in me Toshi,” bringing his hand down your waistband to feel the wetness at the bottom of your underwear. His eyes slightly widened at the dampness. Ushijima brings his lips down to your neck to plant a sloppy kiss as his fingers rubbed along your clothed slit.

“I love you.” Ushijima shuffles up on his knees to take off his suffocating shirt that clung to him for dear life to reveal his rippling and muscular figure. Your fingers reached to linger across his sculpted torso trying to reel him in as he leaned back down towards you, placing hands on his broad shoulders.

“I love you too..” Your lustful eyes watched as he makes his way up your shirt, essentially pushing up your bra to reveal your stiff and perky nipples due to being released from their cage. Ushijima’s warm tongue caressing your tit causes you to push your head back into the soft pillow, the more he sucked and licked across your sensitive nip the more your head sank down. His other hand fondled with your unoccupied breast, teasing and playing with it as his eyes remained focused on your reactions. 

Shortly after, his hands bring themselves down towards your hips, gradually bringing his swollen lips down with it. Ushijima’s working down your pants and underwear. You sit up to help him, also taking off your shirt and bra as you sat naked in front of him, with a slightly red hue flushed across your face. 

“You’re so beautiful. I can’t believe my job kept me away from you for so long, I’m sorry..” Ushijima’s parting your legs open like the red sea as you tried to resist out of humiliation. Of course, losing to his powerful and sturdy hands that kept you apart. His dark olive orbs lit up seeing your cunt already wet with your slick from all the kissing and slight nipple play.

Ushijima dives in with his tongue that draws steady circles over your little bundle of nerves, causing you to let out a whimper of shock. The foreign sensation of his tongue on your clit felt so good, your locked legs squirmed despite his grasp on the back of your thighs. The skin like dough seeping out of his hands while he holds you up. Your mouth parting and opening as your moans grew louder, whenever you call out his name in that lewd state he doesn’t hold back. Your hands were buried into his hair, pushing his face closer to your pussy. He’s adding in a thick finger or two inside to curl into your sweet spot to help prep you for his cock. He knows he’s gonna have to use more than two fingers, so he snuck in another one to stretch you out. Your legs are twitching like crazy as you squirmed and forced his head closer. His tongue swirls around in your plush hole once more, driving you to your spinning orgasm as he slurps up all of your remaining juices before his finishing course. 

He unlatches his mouth from your dripping cunt as you lay limpless trying to regain your composure, watching him slide his shorts and boxers down to reveal his massive raging erection that dripped with precum. Your arms help you up as you saw him stroke it a few times as he grunted before laying it on your pussy.

“Toshi, is it gonna fit..?” You’re looking at him with a bit of fear in your eyes at his big and girthy length that’s currently sitting on your clit. He’s guiding his mad red tip to glide around on your slit, collecting the juices you secretated.

“I’ll make it fit.” Ushijima’s determined and believes it’ll all fit in like always even though you’re always a bit worried. Everytime you fuck it ends up like this, but he’s always somehow balls deep inside your plush walls that clung onto him. You knew that and always trusted him during the whole process of just putting it in. You’re laying down flat on your back as he’s towering over you once again. Feeling his tip find and prob at the entrance of your hole, Ushijima’s looking for your approval as you nod at him to stick it in.

There goes the first part, your entrance expands to take in his circumference. He’s slowly pushing it in, trying to not cause any more discomfort than his cock is already putting you in. the pain from stretching you out starts to kick in when you feel the stabbing sensation. Your deathenly grip on his shoulders increases, causing crescent marks to appear on his smooth skin whenever you had to readjust your hand placement. 

“You okay? It’s just about in.” Ushijima’s grunting from the tight heated walls that held his cock, making it feel like it’s about to snap in half at any given moment. The waves of the killer stinging sensation began to increase when he started to slide out. It was like a metal fork scratching a chalkboard inside. Shoving it back was even more painful even though it was slightly starting to mix with pleasure that’ll soon start to wash over and fill your body. 

Your body’s producing tears as a natural reaction towards the affliction, your loving husband’s wiping them off your face with his thumb while peppering you kisses all over. The slow but earth shattering damage that his cock implies on your clenching walls continued its attempt at stimulating you. Throwing your arms over his head, bringing him closer to your tearstained eyes. Your cunt takes the form of his size the more he moved in and out of you, loosening your grip on his cock.

“It feels good Toshi, you can go faster..” sobbing in between whines as waves of pleasure started to take over your body. Nodding his head as he grunted, his pace began to increase from a turtle’s pace to making you arch your back as you held onto him with all your might. His eyes averted to your breasts enjoying each bounce as he started to thrust even more. 

The amount of inaudible sounds coming from your mouth and the squelching from below, he can’t take it anymore it’s been far too long. Ushijima’s uneven breathing came to a pause whenever your gummy walls clenched, eventually he came inside. Filling you to the brim even when he thought he emptied his load in you. Taking it out, his white goo continued to spray onto your breasts and stomach as some of it started to drip out of your cunt.

“Shit, there’s so much ha.” He’s trying to jerk it all out before taking on another round with you. When he thought he was done, it just started to leak out from his tip. Biting his lip as he continues to finish, before putting your legs up into a mating press. 

Your knees pressed against the sticky semen on your chest as he’s pushing your ankles further down, exposing all of your pussy to him. You’re dripping with his cum that keeps trailing out of your cunt. Feeling his girth press against you again, he’s scooping his creamy white substance onto his cock before smoothly attempting to slide back in with a moan of relief. 

Your head tilts back from all the stimulation as you’re grabbing onto the sheets. His cock is able to plummet and destroy your insides even more with his position that made your body more sensitive with how much deeper he can reach. All you can do is let out your loud continuous moans and praises as you take all of his length again and again. His unbreakable stamina turns your head into a groggy mess as you try to keep conscious throughout his heavy, hard poundings. Ushijima notices your change in reaction when as you try to keep up with his momentum and came to a complete stop.

“Hey, you okay? Do you need to take a break or drink some water?” Your eyes focus on him from between your legs. His words melt into your ears now that the sounds of flesh on flesh came to a halt. All you could hear was the heavy breathing ringing in your ears.

You shake your head ‘No,’ knowing you’ll have to at some point. All you could think about what how it’s gonna be a long night to celebrate. 

masterlist here

[moonlit-imagines]

Headcanons for being Johnny Lawrence’s daughter

Johnny Lawrence x daughter!reader

warnings: alcohol, underage drinking, classic johnny sexism <3

a/n: WHAT! ME write a fic thats not gn, i know. im shocked too but its just bc i feel johnny is so gender-stereotypey that doing this gn wouldn’t work very well but very open to a son!r or nb!r if anyone is interested (bc seriously. johnny cannot help but bring up genders). also i just want to say that a lot of this (not all!) honestly reminds me of or are actual things that have happened w my dad bc johnny is literally my dad if my dad was like 8 years older i think also i wrote this all in one sitting ALSO NO COBRA KAI SEASON 6 SPOILERS

prompt:

GIRL DAD!

you always kinda just gravitated toward living with your dad

“y/n, i’m so proud of you. i never have to worry about you. you can take care of yourself. robby on the other hand, i worry about him. i think girls are just more self sufficient” -johnny, a little drunk

“thanks dad” -you, also a little drunk (hes a “cool dad”)

he was the type of parent that “prefers that if you’re gonna do something stupid at least do it while he’s around” aka underage drinking

whenever he stays out late you fall asleep in his bed. and lock him out

“y/n! open the door!” -johnny, banging on the door

“no! your bed is more comfortable” -you

he thought it was sweet honestly but he did want to sleep in his bed

sort of like a lesson not to come home late all drunk and gross

he was VERY against letting you drive his car

“dad, i need my license!” -you

“no woman is getting behind the wheel of my firebird” -johnny

“why do you have to make it about women? i’ll fight you” -you

“you’ll lose that fight” -johnny

“oh, so you’d fight a teenage girl? wow, real classy, dad” -you

“no, but i’d fight my teenage daughter. i brought you into this world and i’ll take you out” -johnny

you honestly had a great sense of humor with johnny, but you’d check him if he said anything too messed up

“dad, it’s not the 80’s anymore, you can’t say that” -you

“dont tell me what i can and cant say! the 80’s were awesome, i wish it was the 80’s again” -johnny

“so i’ve heard” -you

he helped you with your homework as a kid until like, 2nd grade when multiplication and division got involved

he did teach you karate growing up! but mostly the basics, for self defense purposes

“hey, never let any guy try to impress you with his karate skills. he’s probably a douche” -johnny, pausing “i sure was”

late night movie marathons (70s/80s classics for sure)

he took care of you during your first hangover (high school parties, ya know)

“didn’t i teach you better than to mix liquors” -johnny

“ugghhhh” -you

yes, you have heard about daniel larusso. enough said LMAO

robby and you had a kind of sweet but distant relationship

occasional check-in texts

robby: are you doing okay with dad? he’s actually buying food and shit?

you: yeah! he’s fine right now, how’s mom? new stepdad yet? is he rich?

robby: mom’s not going anywhere she’d find a rich guy, but keep dreaming

you wear a lot of your dad’s old t-shirts. usually band tee’s

oh and he made sure you got into the “right music”

he used to drive you around in the firebird when you were a SMALL CHILD (front seat, no car seat!) and blast his old cassettes

for YEARS he’d pull the “who is this” “what song is this” game with the reasoning:

“if you wear a band shirt and some asshole asks you to name three songs, i want you to name ten” -johnny

listen. you were still “daddy’s girl” or whatever used to be a cute little saying and is now ruined but whatever

“dad, can i have twenty bucks?” -you

“for what” -johnny

“for fun. pleaseeee” -you

*johnny pulls out his wallet and gives you $40*

could he afford it? no. can he say no? also no.

the absolute fear he felt when you got your first period

“it’s fine, i can call mom” -you

“no, it’s not fine! i’ve had girlfriends before, i got this. stay here, i’ll be back” -johnny

he went to the store and bought the most random assortment of period products and pain meds and snacks and a heating pad

A for effort

when the diaz family moved in across from you guys, miguel took one look at you and johnny said:

“stay away from my daughter”

when the karate fuss got started you tried to keep your distance but sooner or later you joined the dojo and proved to your dad just how “badass” you could be

“take notes everyone, y/n’s gonna be the next all valley champ!” -johnny

taglist: @ravenmoore14 // @retvenkos // @sweetheartlizzie07 // @an4aaa // @summersimmerus // @xoxobabydolls // @sapphireplums // @petersgroupie // @ravenhood2792 // @evilcr0ne // @thedarkqueenofavalon // @elenavampire21 // @elemental-of-magic //

[spencereidluver]

N is for New Years

january 01, 2009

summary: You and Spencer celebrate your first new years together with the girls at Penelope's apartment, then go back to his to celebrate alone.

word count: 4.3k

warnings: smut, alcohol (a single glass of wine is shared between reader and spencer, they do not get drunk.), somewhat sub!spencer but mostly because he's inexperienced,

“Y/N, you know I’m no good at parties,” Spencer says. He’s sat on the edge of his bed with one leg crossed over the other, both hands working to straighten his tie. 

You’re standing at the counter in Spencer’s bathroom putting your makeup on. “It’s not a party, Spence,” you giggle. 

“Actually, it is. A party is a type of social gathering of invited guests involving eating, drinking, socialization, and entertainment,” he states matter-of-factly. 

“It’s just the girls,” you’re trying to mask the hint of laughter in your voice, but it's becoming challenging.

“Yeah, speaking of which, why am I invited to the girls' night?” You couldn’t see his face, but you knew the look he wore: eyebrows furrowed, lips parted slightly, head cocked slightly to the right, his hand almost certainly brought up to his chin- his ‘confused face.’ You peek out from behind the bathroom door before exiting, a habit you picked up from work. You knew there was no danger in Spencer’s bedroom, but the months of training you’d subdued has overridden your subconscious. You catch sight of Spencer, making the exact face you’d thought he’d be.

He looks over to the door when he registers movement, meeting your eyes. He looks you up and down, mouth falling more agape. “Wow,” he says as he shifts slightly on the bed. “Y/n…” His head is scrambling to find words. “Y-you look beautiful.” 

You’re dressed in a solid black dress that ends slightly above your mid-thigh. Thin spaghetti straps draw attention to your collarbones, and though square around the neck, it’s cut low enough for the smallest amount of cleavage to peek through. A black lace waist corset droops around your waist, the strings hanging low down your back. 

“Will you tie this for me?” You ask as you turn around, revealing the untied strings. 

Spencer rushes to you, spitting out a stuttered “of course.” He stands behind you, wrapping his arms around you to pull the loose corset to its intended position. He tugs on the strings, the tension pulling the fabric into your waist. “How’s that?” He asks, holding the strings in place. 

“A little tighter,” you respond.

“A-are you sure? You need to be able to breathe.” He says, refusing to adjust the strings. 

You chuckle quietly. “It’s not tight at all, Spence.” You’re telling the truth. He had only pulled the strings tight enough for the corset to stay against your waist on its own. 

“You have bones and organs in there!” He pulls the strings ever so slightly tighter, but not enough. He slips his fingers in the side, three of them. “I’ll leave room for one finger, how's that?”

“Okay,” you smile, even though he can’t see it. You find it sweet the way he’s so worried about your health, even though the corset is a thin fabric, not leather, and you’re only wearing it for a few hours one night. 

He tightens the corset to the agreed upon extent then ties a bow at the bottom. He rests his hands on your waist, which has been cinched thinner and tighter, and tilts his head back to admire his delicate work. His fingers explore the front of the corset, feeling the intricacies of the lace as he buries his face in your hair, inhaling your scent.

You turn to the mirror on your left, seeing the finished look for the first time. You reach a hand up to Spencer’s head, still buried in the side of your neck. “It’s gorgeous,” you say as you fluff Spencer’s hair to attract his attention. “Thank you.”

Spencer’s eyes meet yours in the mirror, his hands are still on the small of your waist holding you close. “You’re so so pretty, Y/n. So pretty,” he says, unable to take his eyes away from the mirror. 

You reach your arm behind you, grabbing onto Spencer’s tie from the section of his chest that was visible in the mirror. You’re smooth in your movements, pulling him down to you as you do a 180° turn to face him. Your lips meet his, feeling the desire from his sloppy return. His mouth is open, wet, and his hands gripping tightly on your waist. He moans slightly as you pull harder on his tie, the feeling of want taking over him. 

You battle your own want for him, the feeling growing more as he groans into your mouth with every reposition of your lips. He’s like jell-o in your arms, his bony shoulders awkwardly bumping yours as he’s leaning into your kiss. Your hands grasp aggressively at the loose fabric of his dress shirt around his waist. 

Spencer’s waist was one of your favorite parts of him physically. Especially when you were making out. The way he contorts himself into the kiss, the feeling of his abdomen trembling, it all came from the waist. 

Spencer loved his waist being touched by you as well. He wasn’t sure how to express this to you, but he didn’t have to. The way the octaves of his moans shifted, and how his hips involuntarily jutted toward you as you held him let you know just fine. You feel him hard against your thigh as he presses his hips into yours, his mouth breaking away from yours as a whine moves past his lips. He tries to go back for another kiss, but you move away.

“Spence, we need to go,” you pant. 

He huffs, but nods. “Yeah, yeah, I know.” There’s a hint of sadness in his tone, you feel bad for him. That was the closest he’d ever come to initiating, and you had to deny him. He backs away from you, walking to his closet to get his converse.

“I’m sorry,” you say, worried you made him upset.

“It’s okay, we have plans,” he sits on the corner of the bed again, slipping his shoes on. 

You ruffle his hair as you lean down to plant a kiss on his forehead. He looks up at you with a wide smile; forehead kisses were one of his many weaknesses you’ve found out. 

He finishes tying his shoes, standing once he’s done. You pick up your bag off the nightstand, immediately feeling a hand grab your forearm to stop you. “I’ll take that,” Spencer says with a smile as he takes the bag from your hand. He hooks the bag over his shoulder and gives you a nod. “Ready?”

“I think so,” you say, beginning to walk toward the door. Spencer follows close behind you, shutting the light off as you exit the bedroom and enter the living room. “Actually, wait.” You turn around. Spencer gives you a look of confusion. “Don’t let me get drunk tonight.”

His eyes went soft. “Y/n, I really don’t mind taking care of you, I- I’ve seen dead bodies almost every day for the last five years, a little puke is nothing.” His voice is gentle. You knew he was referring to the Christmas party, the night you got way too drunk and threw up all over his bathroom. But that’s not what you were referring to.

“No, Spencer, I mean I think we should celebrate on our own later,” you correct.

“What? Why would we go to Garcia’s house if we’re going to have a second celebration without them?” His voice is high and crackly, he’s confused. 

You knew better than to try being mysterious with him, but at the same time, you found his rare bouts of confusion adorable. You step closer to him, closing any gaps between the two of you. You reach a hand behind his neck, pulling his head down to yours. Your lips are hovered just off of his; the closest possible distance without touching. His breath is hot and shaky against your mouth. "What I mean is,” you say before giving a quick peck to his perfectly parted lips, “I think we should,” peck, “come home,” peck, “and finish,” peck, “what we started,” peck, “earlier,” peck.

He stares at you blankly for a moment, before his face turns red. “O-oh,” is all he can spit out, an embarrassed smile taking over his crimson face. “Y-yeah, I think I can do that.” 

You smile back at him and give him a kiss on his warm rosy cheek before turning to lead the way out of his apartment for real this time. Spencer’s cheeks somehow get more red from your kiss. He reaches a hand up, touching the place your lips had moments before departed. He follows behind you from his apartment unit, all the way down to his car.

____

“Are you and Spencer gonna kiss at midnight?” Penelope asks, trying to whisper but failing as one too many tequila shots has made her lose control of her voice.

Penelope was your and Spencer’s biggest fangirl. She loved everything about the two of you being together. She’s been impatient in wanting to witness a kiss, practically begging for it to happen any chance she got. You nor Spencer ever gave in though, as, to quote your genius boyfriend, ‘the pressure to kiss takes away from all meanings, and if there’s no meaning behind the action, why share millions of cells of bacteria when you don’t have anything to gain from it?’

While his take was something you’d never really given thought to, it was still a boundary set and you respected that. Spencer was against PDA in the beginning of your relationship, but it didn’t take him all that long to open up to it, his admiration and unconditional love for you taking over the inhibition. While he was more open to holding hands, grabbing your waist, and hugging in public, he’s still yet to kiss you in the presence of others. You figure this was just another stage of him learning to love, and wanted to allow him to do so.

Subconsciously, you told yourself you would not initiate the first public kiss, as you wanted to ensure Spencer was entirely comfortable with the happenings, however when you got drunk at the Christmas Party, you almost broke your internal promise.  Luckily for you though, your drunken loss of coordination had compromised your aim and the only thing to come in contact with the sloppy kiss was his chin.

“I don’t know, we’ll see,” you answer, giving the clearly intoxicated Penelope a smile.  

“Come on, it’s just a kiss,” Emily giggles. “You gotta give us something! You were all over each other at the Christmas party, we're not stupid.” 

They were both clearly intoxicated, you would be too if you hadn’t plans for tonight. Hanging out with the girls while drunk was always fun. It was the closest you were able to come to normal friendship, the subconscious profiling out the door when the alcohol was in your systems. 

“You guys know how he is, he’s weird about that kind of stuff,” you’re trying to answer them as best you can without oversharing, knowing Spencer would kill you if you shared anything about the intimate side of your relationship.

Speaking of Spencer, he was in Penelope's kitchen pouring drinks for the three of you. It was natural for him to take over as host, as he very rarely drank at any gatherings the team had. Luckily for you, he emerges from the corner before the girls start grilling you even harder. He held three clear wine glasses in one hand, all filled ⅔ of the way with a thick red liquid. 

He approaches the three of you who were sitting in a semi-circle on the floor of the living room, such little space between your bodies that your knees were touching. He crouches down, one knee to his chest, the other a support pillar on the floor, between you and Penelope. 

“Aw, would you look at that,” Emily coos, taking a glass from his clawed hand. 

“What a ladies man,” Penelope jokes as she takes the glass Spencer has pushed across the imaginary circle toward her. 

Spencer rolls his eyes, “And for my lady,” he says and hands the final glass to you. 

You scoff at his sorry attempt of a pun. “You’re stupid,” you giggle, shooting a sweet smile in his direction to make sure he knew you were joking. You scoot away from Penelope to the open spot on the ground and signal for Spencer to sit in the vacant area. He does so, situating his lanky figure in a criss-cross position. 

“Welcome to the gir-cle!” Penelope cheers, leaning a head on Spencer’s shoulder briefly.

While Spencer was sometimes weird about physical touch from people other than you, he’s learned to tolerate such from Penelope.

Spencer’s brow furrows, unable to hide his very confused face. “The Gir-cle?” he questions as he looks around the three of you for someone to enlighten him.

You laugh along with the other girls, placing a loving hand on Spencer’s thin thigh. “It means ‘girl-circle.’ We always sit here on girls night.”

Spencer’s gaze stops at your eyeline, a smile forming on his face. “Very clever,” he says. His eyes break from yours, looking to the circle again. “Actually, puns are one of the only form jokes to land among everyone as the punchline is always the incongruity of the subject. People are expecting one thing, but the pun takes away the consistency of a term or phrase and that is inherently humorous.”

Emily and Penelope are looking at you, eyes pleading for you to shut him up. You squeeze his thigh and mumble his name under your breath, though you're sitting in such close proximity to everyone that it’s virtually impossible for them to not have heard it as well. 

“Oh, um, sorry,” he stutters, “I- I’m glad I’m welcome in the gircle.”

“Normally it’s strictly no boys allowed, but you’re special, Dr. Reid,” Emily says, taking a sip of her wine.

Spencer shoots you yet another glance riddled with confusion. This poor boy was SO confused by the world of women, it was sweet. He pressed his lips into a straight line. “How am I special?” he asked.

“Because Y/n here is a near and dear member to our gircle!” Penelope tells him. “And you’re like, basically conjoined twins, so if we want Y/n we get you too!”

“I was going to say because you bring us wine, but that works too,” Emily says.

Spencer looks at you, still confused, but he’s decided to give it up. He takes notice in your wine glass which you’ve yet to sip from. He tips his head toward it, raising his eyebrows. 

“Spencer…” you whisper, squeezing your hand resting on his thigh as you attempt to remind him of your conversation before you’d left his apartment. 

He nods. “I know, it’s okay.”

You lean close to his ear. “Just the one glass, m’kay?” you breathe into his ear. You begin to back away, but return to whisper one more thing. “And you get a few sips too.” You sit up straight, giving him a smile. He rolls his eyes and smirks, a characteristic he’d picked up from spending nearly all his waking (and sleeping) hours with you, before taking the glass from your hand and taking a reactionless sip. 

Emily and Penelope practically cheer at the sight of Spencer drinking, as they’d noted how rare the occasion was for him. 

The clock was quickly approaching midnight. 11:23. Honestly, you were surprised Penelope hadn’t turned the T.V. on to watch the-

“OH MY GOD!” Penelope’s voice rips through the room. “THE BALL!” 

She scrambles to turn on the T.V. flipping through the channels until she reaches the screen filled with a close up of Ryan Seacrest’s face. “I lost track of time, I’m so sorry guys! Don’t worry, we only missed Lionel Richie. Taylor still has her whole segment and the Jonas Brothers have just started.”

“How do you know the entire setlist for the-” Spencer starts, but is interrupted by Emily.

“Don’t even ask,” she says. 

Penelope settles on the couch directly behind you to watch the television program, holding her wine glass out with a limp wrist. “Come on, guys! There’s plenty of room on the couch,” she comments.

Emily joins her on the couch, but Spencer doesn’t budge. “I think Y/n and I will stay on the floor, we’re comfortable,” he says, but scoots back a tad to lean his back against the front panels of the sofa. You move next to him, snuggling into his side and resting your head on his shoulder.

“Suit yourself,” Penelope shrugs and turns the volume on the T.V. up.

_____

You weren’t expecting anything to happen, so when the countdown ended and the ball dropped the feeling of Spencer’s mouth passionately against yours was a complete surprise. And you definitely were not expecting his tongue to break past your lips and enter your mouth. And honestly, you would’ve bet your life savings on his body not tackling you to the ground as he pounced on you, arms darting up to hold your face still from the impact of his kiss, but if you were to have gone through with the bet, you’d be a very poor woman. 

You were too entranced in the kiss to notice the whispers and pointing fingers from the two women on the sofa behind you, but in the back of your mind- like the WAY far back- you knew they were absolutely eating this up. A wolf whistle escapes from one of the girls’ lips, which causes Spencer to snap back into reality. His face turns red as he realizes where he’s at. He sits back up on his own, clearing his throat.

“U-um sorry, Y/n,” he says sheepishly as he extends his hand out to help you up from the floor. You take his hand and sit up next to him again, leaning forward to peck his cheek to let him know it was alright. Actually, it was more than alright. In a way, you were proud of him for mustering the courage to do such an intimate and, what had been, a very private thing for him in the strains of Penelope’s living room. Seeing Spencer gain confidence within your relationship was something beautiful. It was as if he was not only becoming more bold, but becoming himself.

Spencer is uncomfortable, no, more embarrassed. He feels the eyes from the couch behind him burning into the back of his head. It doesn’t take a profiler to sense the tension he’s created for himself. While a kiss in front of friends, even one as passionate as the one you’d just shared, felt acceptable, especially on New Years, to you and the women behind you, Spencer felt as if he’d just exposed himself to his entire workplace. 

From the way he’s shifting in his seated position, unable to hold still, it is apparent to everyone he is wanting to be just about anywhere else right now. You’ll admit, watching Spencer squirm is adorable, but from the way he is desperately grasping at your hand with his, you know he’s trying to signal something to you. 

You fake a yawn. “Well, it is officially four minutes past Spencer’s bedtime,” you say, hinting to everyone, mostly him, that it’s time for you to go home. 

“Spencer’s bedtime was several hours ago, he’s like a grandfather,” Emily jokes, “Go ahead and leave though, you’re not going to miss anything besides when I puke all over Garcia’s bathroom in about four hours.”

“You’re staying?!” Penelope exclaims. She’s clearly excited that, after her countless attempts at begging her, Emily finally decided to have a sleepover at her apartment. 

“Oh, I’m staying.” Emily’s eyes close in on Penelope. “I was promised homemade french toast in the morning, how could I possibly leave?”

“Oh you just wait!” Penelope squeals. “You guys are welcome to stay too!” She motions toward you and Spencer, who has clearly gone non-verbal.

His eyes briefly meet with yours, a fearful look in them, as if he’s begging you to answer for him. You think of an excuse, and while if either of them gave it any thought they’d be able to see right through it, it’s the quickest thing to make it through your brain and past your lips. 

“Not tonight,” you say, a sorrowful tone in your voice. “Someone is very particular about his mattress.” You playfully slap a hand on Spencer’s shoulder as you speak, telling that he’s the someone who has mattress preferences. 

Your answer in itself wasn’t a lie; Spencer did sleep so much better in his own bed than anywhere else. One of the first things he’d tell you in the mornings when you wake up in a hotel bed on a case is how awful the mattress was. But once you got down to it, he didn’t actually mind all that much. You hope for poor poor Spencer’s case that Penelope and Emily are far too intoxicated to piece your lie together, however lying to profilers has never proven to be successful. 

Maybe they were too drunk, or maybe they had their fun with Spencer, sensing his flustered state, and decided to spare him. They walked you to the door, both girls giving you a hug before you left. Spencer of course ran out the door before the goodbyes had even finished leaving his lips.

____

“Y/n I’m really sorry for what I did in there,” Spencer finally says. The walk to the car had been silent, he held your hand so as to tell you he wasn’t upset at you for anything, but the clench of his jaw told you he did not want to speak.

“Hey, you did nothing wrong,” you said, reaching a hand across the center console of the car and resting it on his thigh. He tremors beneath your touch before welcoming it, placing his hand on top of yours.

“Are you sure?” He briefly looks away from the road to meet your eye. 

“I promise.” You gently squeeze his thigh.

He sighs. “Okay,” he says.

“Everyone knows we're together, Spencer. It’s normal for couples to kiss.” You’re trying to explain something to him that you know he knows. It’ll never work.

“I know, it just feels… weird to me.”

“Then we don’t have to kiss in front of people, we can save it for when we’re alo-’

“No.” Spencer’s voice was strangely stern.

“W-what?”

“I want to be able to kiss you in front of people. I want to be normal.”

“You are normal, don’t do something that makes you uncomfortable solely for me to enjoy it.”

“Y/n, there is nothing that could make me uncomfortable with you.” He slows the car to a gentle halt in the parking lot in front of his apartment. He looks over into your eyes. “Nothing.” His tone of voice is reassuring. You smile at him, a small giggle coming out of your nose. 

He’s so cute.

His top lip trembles slightly, not like he’s about to cry, more like he’s trying to hold his smile back from you. A hand comes up to meet your chin, thumb running along the bottom of your jaw to your chin. He lets his thumb trace around your lips, pulling the bottom one down as he finishes his circle. 

He’s slow in his movements, but turns his hips and body to face yours. He uses his hand on your chin to pull you toward him. He closes the gap between you, pressing his chest firmly into yours. His lips hover just off of yours. His breath is hot against yours, yours the same to him. He exhales shakily as his lips barely graze yours.Their touch is so light you don’t think it would even count as a kiss. His soft lips and their exploration have your heart racing.

You press closer into him while moving your lips more eagerly against his. Spencer returns your eagerness, his movements becoming fervent. His hand slides to the back of your neck and fingers tangle in your hair as he pulls you impossibly closer. 

You lift your legs up into the seat of the car, shifting your position to rest on your knees which allows you to lean in at a more comfortable angle. Your hands roam up to Spencer’s face, he allows your fingertips to trace the beautiful contours of his jaw and cheekbones. His skin is warm and soft beneath the pads of your fingers, the finest layer of sweat beginning to surface on his face.

He squeezes his fist in your hair, the gentle pulling of it bringing a small whine past your lips, causing a deep groan to leave Spencer’s throat.

His other hand finds your waist, pulling you onto his lap without breaking the kiss. He whimpers as you settle on him, the inevitable friction of you against his lap causing his hips to rut up toward you so slightly. The confined space of the car amplified every touch, every feeling, every movement, each moment intimate and exhilarating.

Your fingers move to his hair, pulling gently, but insistently. He hums little noises into your mouth with each small tug. Your kisses are heavy, the passion leaving you both breathless. The warm air being exhaled fogs up the windows of the car, blurring the outside world. 

You finally pull back, resting your forehead against his. Your eyes lock with his, a gaze of longing covering the brown of his. You feel his chest rising and falling against yours. His hands are rested on your hips, fingers digging into you a little roughly. 

You smile at him, rubbing your nose into his. “Ready to go in?” you ask as you crawl off his lap, opening the car door and starting the walk to his apartment door.

part 2 HERE

_____

next chapter: P is for Perfect

other parts: Spencer Reid A-Z Masterlist

view the masterlist in a calendar version! 

_____

a/n: i felt like i haven't been writing enough interactions with the team, so these last two parts have kind of been dedicated to them. i also realized i only had one chapter with smut, so i wanted to give my lovely lovely whores (said with love) some content.

i left jj out of this part because in accordance with the timeline, she has a newborn baby at home, and i personally feel as if she wouldn’t leave a two month old henry home to go drink with her coworkers.

_____

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[anaconamor]

home is you - jb blurb.

quick sum: just a small fluffy husband jude blurb!! merry christmas to all those who celebrate!! my present to you 😉😉

“el es mi esposo!” you giggle, side hugging your cousin who stares at jude in disbelief. “el? el es tu esposo? que barbaridad y/n! te lo mereces,” she laughed with you as jude just shook his head slightly understanding what was going on. (he is my husband… him? he is your husband? oh wow! you deserve it…)

“why do people always react like that?” jude asked as he walked with you outside to the small table by the fire place. this year you spent christmas in your family’s home. a few hours away from where jude lived but it was such a dream. everyone was gushing over you and him, since some of your family hadn’t met him and didn’t know you were married.

“some of my family here i haven’t seen or heard of them in years! meaning they didn’t know i was married yet again to who. so when they see you that’s why they react like that,” you explain with a huge grin. “yeah i got that but it’s like they’re almost shocked,” jude said, bringing you to his lap as your head found home on his shoulder. his hands grazing your legs.

“well before you, they always called me or thought of me of someone who would’ve ever settle down,” you shrugged. “i’ve always been dedicated to school and work, so they teased me a lot growing up, but look at me now. i’m getting my masters and married el amor de mi vida,” you whispered in spanish kissing the mole between his neck and collar bone. (the love of my life…)

“i love when you speak spanish you know? it sounds so sexy yet you make it me fall under a spell. whether it’s you yelling at me, just saying some phrases or curses, i love it,” jude pointed your interlocking your left hand with his right, looking down at your wedding rings. “i love your tiny accent, especially that stupid grin you do when people awe you,” you squint your eyes, jude throwing his head back dying.

“they can’t resist me amor, just like you…”

“whatever,” you roll your eyes, cuddling closer to him. enjoying his warmth and scent. during the last few days you guys were so attached, you couldn’t stop introducing him to everyone since someone new always arrived. during dinners you would be seated together, at night in your childhood bedroom you slept close, legs and limbs tangled, on your twin bed. or like right now, away from everyone and just you two being jude and y/n.

“everyone adores you by the way, i don’t know if you noticed but they can’t stop gushing about you to me, which makes me feel sooooo happy and just overwhelmed,” you explained, stroking your thumb against his skin. “i’ve noticed, your mom pulled me aside yesterday after i was bombarded with questions by your tias, they asked who i was and what i did! it was when you were still asleep,” jude said kissing your temple.

“is that a new perfume?” he asked feeling you nod.

“yes i got it a week ago, when i went shopping for your gifts,” you said. “never take it off. it smells so amazing on you,” jude complimented you making your blood warm in sweetness. “did you like your gifts?” you asked curious, you were the type of person of buying they whole list because you were indecisive on what to get, or the type to ask after they opened it if they liked it or not. “i loved them. every. single. one.” jude said while kissing down your cheek to your jaw.

“but this one will forever be my favorite,” jude brought your left hand up and kissed your wedding rings. “you’re my favorite person in this world. not only that but my best friend until death do us part. you know me like no one else does, and are there for not just me but our families and friends. you’re the best gift i could ever ask for… mi bella esposa,” jude said making you pout as your heart beat out of your chest. (my beautiful wife…)

no matter how long you knew him, he never stopped giving you butterflies.

“are you re-saying your vows to me?” you teased, jude chuckled. “not even close. i think during our wedding ceremony i spoke for almost 20 minutes. and i wasn’t even done! the priest cut me off!” jude yelled, still bothered by what he’d done. “you also couldn’t stop crying,” you teased further, you sat up now straddling him, as your arms came behind his head and stoked the nape of his neck.

“literally why do you hate me. i did cry a lot that day, i couldn’t help myself, especially when you walked down the aisle, you were meant to be with me,” jude said, his hands stroking your sides and pushing your body closer to his. “forever and always for me…” he kissed the inner corner of your mouth, one hand coming down your spine.

“till death do us part…” you continued, your lips inching closer to his, teasing the kiss as you moved your head slightly to the side. jude licking his lips as he stared at yours.

“kiss me y/n,” jude stated, and you wasted no time, closing the gap and almost whimpered at the passion and beauty of it. his lips moving with your with delicacy yet with urgency. his sweet taste mixing with yours, the strokes of tongue making your eyes roll back as the kiss went deeper and deeper.

“tu eres mía para siempre.” (you’re mine forever…)

[emsdevs]

Hi ☺️ I've never written like this on any blog before, but recently a thought crossed my mind about Nico and when I saw your post I thought of writing you. What if the reader is studying sports medicine and needs to study for an exam? She would have known Nico Hischier for some time thanks to her father who is a former NHL player and Nico would have helped her with her studies. She has a big crush on him. And She was just learning about muscle injuries and Nico wanted to give her a visual demonstration of his muscles, so he took off his shirt so that Angie can clearly show places where injuries can occur 🤭? If it's stupid, forget it 🙈 But it seemed like an interesting idea for a short blurb, I think. And sorry for my English, it is not my native language 😅 Have a nice day 🩷

Anatomy Lesson

a/n: I'm so sorry for the delay love. I hope you like it!! I don't know much about sports medicine or human anatomy, so a little bit of credit goes to @heartsforjh for telling me about different muscles and where they can be found!! 🩵

masterlist | NHL Masterlists | Nico Hischier Masterlist

You had been knee-deep in anatomy flashcards all evening, and it didn’t seem like it would end any time soon. You had just started looking at the different kinds of muscle injuries for an upcoming exam when you heard a knock at your door. You stood from your couch and made your way to your door, looking through the peephole to find Nico Hischier. Your father introduced the two of you at a Devils event a few years ago, and you have been close friends ever since. You slowly opened the door, confused as to what might have brought him here unannounced, and that’s when Nico smiled brightly and held up the take-out he’d brought.

“You mentioned that you’d been studying most of the day, so I thought you might need a pick-me-up,” he gave you a soft smile before coming in.

“I really appreciate that, Nico,” you return his smile. You lead him into your living room, where you then take a break to eat with Nico. Once the take-out is gone and you’re both full, you settle back in studying, Nico watching with a curious gaze beside you. It doesn’t take him long to pipe up.

“What exactly are you studying? I mean I know it’s like bones and stuff, but what are you struggling with right now?” 

“Right now, I’m looking at the different types of muscles, where they’re located, and how they can be injured, specifically sprained.”

“Oh, wow. That’s… a lot,” Nico grimaces.

“I just can’t quite figure out the abdominal muscles and the ones in that general area. Like I’m almost struggling to picture where exactly they’re located.”

“Oh, well here you go,” Nico stood straight up, slipping his shirt off and tossing it onto the couch beside where you’re sitting. “Now you have a good visual.”

Your mouth runs dry, and you’re not sure when you’ll be able to speak again. Usually, you can keep your crush on the hockey player on the down low, but right now, you’re not sure that’s possible. Just as quickly as your mouth went dry, it started watering, and you had to fight to keep yourself from noticeably drooling. He’s attractive all the time, but with his toned body on display about two feet in front of you, you’ve never been more attracted to him than right now.

“Ummm, yeah. Thanks, Neeks,” you squeak out. Nico pretends not to notice how flustered you are. He had put together a few weeks ago that you returned his feelings, so he’s been trying to subtly step up his game, hoping you would realize he feels the same as you. Being a live model was definitely not in his plan when he showed up today, but he’s thinking this might work out in his favor. “Of course! Feel free to touch too. It might be helpful to feel exactly where the muscle is. You know?”

“Yeah… yep,” your face is bright red. You’re sure of it. 

Before you knew it, you had been naming muscles and pointing them out on Nico’s body for about an hour. You were holding your breath at this point, not used to being this close to him.

“Okay, so obviously these are the pectoralis major muscles,” your hands hover over his pecs, “so this would be the external intercostal muscles.” You move your hands downwards just a few inches, right over where the muscles would be, but something in the air changes when you take a moment to look up at Nico. Your eyes locked, and your hands shifted forward just slightly, now fully lying on his lower chest. You can feel your breathing quicken, and you see Nico’s eyes dart down to your lips. A second later, his lips are on yours, and the moment your brain catches up to what’s happening you’re returning the kiss feverishly. 

His hands move to your waist before one of them slides to your lower back, pulling you as close to him as possible. As much as you love the feel of his firm chest under your hands, you need something to ground you, so you slide them both up his body, leaving one on the back of his neck while the other moves to his hair. You grab his hair lightly, trying to keep him close, but it only causes him to groan into your mouth, pushing into the kiss a little harder. In retaliation, he bites your bottom lip before he pulls away, both of you needing to catch your breath.

The two of you stand there for a moment, not sure what to do now that the line of friendship has been crossed. You watch as a smile slowly breaks out on Nico’s face, and there’s a matching one on yours not long after. You both laugh under your breath, and you hide your face in Nico’s shoulder, hoping he won’t see how red you are.

“How was that for an anatomy lesson?” he giggles like a schoolboy, giving you those perfect doe eyes of his.

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[disgustingtwitches]

A Rose in Harlem

New York is supposed to be the city where people vanish into the chaos, but somehow, Simon Riley has found his way into your life. He’s managed to slip past your defenses, filling a void you didn’t realize was there. But when the closeness starts to feel too real, you pull back, desperate to hide your vulnerability. Simon, however, has already bared his own scars and expects you to do the same. Suddenly, your life feels like a romcom you never signed up for, starring the one man who’s impossible to ignore.

Long live the rose that grew from concrete, when no one else ever cared.

Masterlist

PART 4

The Sweetest Taboo

So, you're sleeping with your neighbor. This is fine. Totally fine. You're two consenting adults; no one needs to know. Except Simon seems to disagree.

You wouldn’t peg him as the "kiss and tell" type, but much to your duress, Simon is unapologetically the "kiss and show" type.

At the grocery store, he casually shows up at the same time, grabbing your bags like it’s second nature and walking you home. The stares from the neighbors make your face burn.

Morning run-ins in the foyer have evolved into something dangerously inappropriate. He refuses to let you leave without a kiss. Sometimes it’s just a fleeting brush of lips; other times, it’s deeper, lingering, and edging into the territory of lewd, making you shove his face away.

Then there’s the hoodie. One of his oversized ones, soft and smelling faintly of him. He bullied you into wearing it. You caved, of course, but it stays hidden in the back of your drawer when Ishta comes around—there’s no way you’re dealing with opening that can of worms.

It’s not just the overt gestures, though. It’s the way he lingers too long at your door after you’ve kissed him goodnight. Watches you through the fire escape, like he has every right to. Sitting there with his legs sprawled, a cigarette lazily dangling between his fingers, he makes no attempt to hide it.

You tried to put an end to that one. Bought curtains on a whim, feeling smug about the newfound privacy they’d grant you. But they mysteriously disappeared the day after you installed them—conveniently after you’d gone to work.

Simon played dumb when you confronted him, leaning casually against his doorframe.

“Dunno what you’re talking about, angel. Someone breaking in while you’re away? Maybe I should stick around your place and keep watch.”

His grin was infuriatingly smug, as it usually is.

It’s all becoming a little too real, a little too… loud. And yet, when you’re pressed up against him in the quiet of your apartment, his hands framing your face like you’re the only thing worth holding onto, you almost forget about his wrongdoings.

***

“Brought out the good shit tonight.”

Ishta grins, popping open a bottle of prosecco—the cheap, overly sweet kind she adores. You hold back the urge to grimace as she pours, passing you a glass.

“What's the occasion?”

“Me and Mr.Scottsman are official!”

She squeals lifting her glass high. You mimic the gesture, the clink of glass on glass ringing lightly through the room.

“Wow, it's so official you still won't tell me his name.”

You quip, rolling your eyes as you take a cautious sip. The sweetness of the wine hits immediately, and you fight the reflex to wince.

“John. Johnny.”

She sighs dreamily, hearts in her eyes.

“I call him Johnny because John is way too serious for my liking.”

You raise a brow at her,

"Sounds like you’ve got it bad, Ishta.”

She doesn’t deny it, swirling the prosecco in her glass like it’s some romantic prop, her grin widening.

"Oh, you have no idea. He’s got this laugh—it’s ridiculous—and he can’t make tea to save his life. But, ugh, he’s perfect."

You shake your head, taking another begrudging sip of the prosecco, already bracing yourself for what’s sure to be a night of gushing anecdotes about Johnny.

“Perfect,”

You echo with a laugh, setting your glass down.

“You’ve been together for how long now? A month?”

“Three weeks,”

Ishta corrects.

“But when you know, you know.”

You snort, leaning back against the arm of the couch.

“Yeah, sure. You’re gonna marry this man, huh?”

“Don’t tempt me,”

She says, her grin widening.

“He’s already invited to meet his family. Can you believe it? His family, and I’m just over here trying to not come off as a complete lunatic.”

“Well, you’re failing spectacularly.”

You tease.

She throws a pillow at you, laughing.

“Says the one who’s been mysteriously glowing these past few weeks. Care to spill why?”

You freeze for half a second, a sip of prosecco poised at your lips.

“Glowing? What are you even talking about?”

“Oh, don’t play coy with me,”

Ishta says, narrowing her eyes.

“You’re hiding something. Someone.”

You feign indifference, shrugging.

“Maybe I’ve just been using better skincare.”

“Bullshit. Spill. Who is it?”

She leans forward, her gaze piercing.

There’s no way you’re telling her. Not about Simon. Not about the fire escape. Not about the way his hands feel against your skin or the things he whispers in the dark.

“No one,”

You say firmly, hoping she buys it.

“And stop projecting your ridiculous love life onto me.”

Ishta squints at you, unconvinced.

“Uh-huh. Sure. For now, you’re off the hook. But mark my words,”

She wags a finger at you.

“I’ll figure it out.”

You laugh nervously, downing the rest of your drink.

You’re grateful for how easily distracted Ishta can be, her attention now fully locked onto the trashy dating show the two of you watch every Thursday. It’s a routine you’d both adopted more for the chance to mock strangers' poor life choices than for any genuine investment in the drama.

Occasionally, she’ll pipe up, her voice dreamy as she recounts the latest romantic gesture from Johnny, her “Mr. Scotsman." She compares him to the guys on TV, and each time, she insists that Johnny does it better. You can almost hear the wistful sigh in her voice as she talks about how much she adores him.

You smile at her, teasing lightly,

“Gonna end up as one of those military wives?”

Ishta laughs, a genuine, carefree sound that rings out in the space between you. She shrugs with mock indifference, but there’s a spark in her eyes.

"Maybe. I mean, he’s a loverboy under all that wildness, but yeah… I’d say I’ve got it bad.”

You smirk at her, shaking your head.

"You’re hopeless."

"And you’re one to talk,”

She fires back, leveling you with a knowing look.

“Sexy British neighbor still got you tied up in knots?”

You scoff, taking a sip of your drink to stall. The wine’s still too sweet, sticking to your tongue, but you focus on the tang that lingers at the edges.

“I’m not ‘tied up’ in anything. Haven't even spoken to him since the noise complaint situation.”

“Riiight.”

She side-eyes you, unconvinced.

“Something tells me that's not entirely true. You get this weird look on your face every time I bring him up.”

You try to keep a straight face.

“Maybe you’re reading too much into things.”

“Uh-huh.”

She leans back, crossing her arms.

“One of these days, I'll catch you slipping.”

You roll your eyes, desperate to redirect her attention.

“I think you’ve had too much wine.”

“Or not enough,”

She shoots back, taking another sip with a knowing smirk. She hums, like she just remembered something important.

“I forgot to tell you, Johnny invited you to come with me to meet his family.”

You make a face of confusion.

“Me? Why?”

“I talk about you a lot, believe it or not you are one of the most important people in my life.”

The statement takes you back a bit, makes you feel a twinge of guilt lying to her.

“But his family?”

“Well…”

She tilts her head, searching for the right words.

“They’re not exactly blood relatives. They’re his squad, I think that’s the term he uses. He trusts them with his life, so he sees them as family—or the closest thing to it. Something like that.”

It’s her turn to hesitate, her fingers absently trailing the stem of her wine glass.

“Anyway, he thought you might want to come along. Besides,” She adds with a grin, peeking up again.

“It'll be fun. Think about it! Drinks, charming military men, and me as your entertainment. What more could you want?”

With Simon in your life, you think to yourself, you find yourself wanting for nothing lately—except maybe a little less suffocating attention.

“Yeah, what more could I want.”

You say aloud, masking the weight of your thoughts with a light laugh.

Ishta beams at your answer,

“That’s the spirit! You’ll see—it’ll be good for you. And hey, if nothing else, you can help me judge Johnny’s friends. Who knows, maybe one of them is a secret disaster like the guys on this show.”

The conversation shifts back to the TV, her playful commentary dragging you out of your head. But even as you nod along, your mind is already working on an escape plan.

You’re just gonna text her some excuse when the day comes. She’ll understand. Probably.

***

“How can you breathe in these?”

You groan, tugging at the waistband of Ishta’s skin-tight leather pants as she twists and wiggles, trying to pull them up.

“Breathing isn’t a priority here.”

She huffs, planting her hands on her hips and giving a final shimmy.

“Looking good is. Besides,”

She admires herself in the mirror.

“Johnny will love it.”

“Yeah, he probably cares more about how easy they’ll be to take off, Ishta.”

She grins, running her hands down the smooth fabric.

“Yeah. My man, the most efficient guy I know.”

You laugh, shaking your head as she strikes a dramatic pose.

“Efficiency—truly the cornerstone of romance.”

“Don’t knock it,”

She quips, spinning around to face you.

“He’s got it down to an art. Makes him a great lover.”

“Ishta.”

“I mean seriously, when I'm running late he knows exactly what to-”

“Ishta!”

“What? Someone has to get laid here, and it sure isn't you!”

You groan in protest, grabbing a throw pillow and launching it at her. She ducks, her laughter ringing out as she returns to inspecting her reflection in the mirror, twisting to check out the back of her pants.

“I think my butt’s getting bigger.”

She declares, completely unfazed.

“Aren’t we running late?”

You ask, exasperated.

“We’re fine. He’s getting us an Uber.”

She replies, adjusting the waistband of her pants with a smug little smile.

“To Brooklyn? Ouuu, big money.”

You tease, rolling your eyes as you grab your bag.

She grins, tossing her hair over her shoulder.

“I just got him trained right. I'll show you how to do it when you get your own man. Or woman. Or anyone.”

Before you get to have your say her phone dings, and she grabs her keys.

"C’mon, Uber’s here."

You give her one last look before following her out the door, ready for whatever insanity lies ahead.

***

The bar you stand outside of is dingy and small, a stark contrast to the sleek black SUV Johnny arranged for Ishta and you. You raise an eyebrow, already feeling out of place.

“Are you sure this is the place?”

You ask, rocking side to side in your heels, feet already hurting.

“Too good for it?”

Ishta teases.

“No, just… aren’t we a little overdressed?”

You reply, glancing down at your outfit. Her red-bottoms are going to get ruined by the sticky floors, and your top is way too low-cut for a place like this.

Ishta smirks, giving you a look.

“You’ll be fine. Besides, if anyone stares for too long, the guys will probably scare them off— if they are anything like Johnny describes.”

And so, you step hesitantly into the grungy spot, thinking of what shitty liquor you need to get you through the night.

The bar is dim, louder than you expected, the scent of stale beer and fried food heavy in the air. Ishta leads the way with her usual confidence, weaving through the mismatched tables and chairs. You follow, heels catching on the sticky floor, your stomach tightening as she heads toward a table in the back.

That’s when you see it: the large black hoodie. The person wearing it is turned away, broad shoulders hunched slightly. Something about the way they hold themselves makes your chest tighten. You tell yourself it can’t possibly be him. The odds are ridiculous, almost laughable.

And yet, your feet falter.

Johnny spots Ishta first, lighting up with a grin so wide it makes his eyes crease at the corners, laughter lines deepening across his face. There’s a boyish enthusiasm in the way he waves her over, unrestrained and unabashed, like a pet spotting its owner after a long day apart.

You remember her mentioning once, in passing, that he was born the year of the dog. It’s funny how fitting that feels now. Loyal, eager, a little too earnest. He all but bounces out of his seat, the movement causing a ripple of attention to shift across the table.

The ridiculously pretty man seated next to him glances up first, his expression brightening with easy charm. Across from him, an older man with a beard you could only describe as unnecessarily dramatic turns and nods politely.

Then, the hoodie moves. Your stomach plummets.

Simon.

His expression is unreadable, but the sight of him freezes you in place, and before you realize it, you’re standing there looking like a deer caught in headlights. The rest of the table follows his gaze, looking at you with various degrees of curiosity.

Ishta grabs your arm.

“Oh my God. Girl, is that your man? What’s wrong? You can’t back away now!”

She says in a low voice, dragging you forward before you can recover.

“That is not my man,”

You hiss back, but it does nothing to stop her relentless pull.

Johnny grins as you both approach, his voice warm and thick with his accent.

“Almost scared her off, Ghost.”

Ghost?

Your eyes flick to Simon. His jaw tightens, but he doesn’t say a word.

Johnny, takes over the introductions.

“This is Simon. Don’t mind him, wasn’t properly socialized as a bairn.”

There’s some shifting around as the group makes room. To your dismay, Simon stays tucked into one side of the booth, leaving Kyle and Price to scoot out. They pull over chairs from a nearby empty table, and you find yourself awkwardly squeezed beside Simon while Ishta takes the seat across from you.

“Finally nice to put a name to the face.”

Ishta beams at Simon, and you can see the faint flicker of amusement in his eyes, though he doesn’t respond. She laughs when Johnny makes a confused face, giving a brief rundown to the table.

“She says you haven't seen each other since that incident.”

Ishta waves her glass in Simon's direction.

Simon leans back in his seat, mask still up.

“Avoids me like the plague, she does. Must’ve left quite the impression.”

Kyle snorts, leaning forward with an amused grin.

“That’s just his thing. Simon’s got a talent for being a nuisance, don’t you, mate? Knows exactly how to make people’s lives hell.”

“Only when they deserve it.”

Simon replies smoothly.

The table chuckles, but you stay quiet. His knee bumps yours under the table and you shoot him a sharp glance. He doesn’t even look your way, focused instead on swirling his drink he hasn't touched. You drink more than you probably should, hoping it’ll dull the awkwardness.

Thankfully, the rest of the table carries on without issue, their conversation flowing easily.

“Military, huh?”

You ask eventually, your voice quieter than intended.

Simon doesn’t look at you, but Johnny leans in with a grin.

“Yeah, we're stationed here for a while, so get used to seeing my handsome face around.”

The ease in his tone does little to settle the tension twisting in your chest. Simon doesn’t so much as flinch, remaining a stoic, unreadable presence. His silence feels deliberate, heavy, but Johnny’s brightness seems determined to lighten the mood.

“Maybe you’ll even get used to this one,”

Johnny adds playfully.

“Though I wouldn’t hold your breath. He’s got the personality of wet cement.”

That makes you laugh a little, along with the rest of the table. Younod toward Simon.

“So… Ghost. That’s a call sign?”

Simon hums, noncommittal, leaving Johnny to fill the silence.

“Wish I got something cool like that,”

Johnny says, shooting Simon a look that’s both teasing and fond.

“Guess he earned it, scary bastard.”

You glance at Simon again. His face gives nothing away.

Ishta leans over and whispers something into Johnny’s ear, her lips brushing against his ear with a playful familiarity. Whatever she says prompts a crooked grin to spread across his face, his blue eyes lighting up with mischief.

The two of them fall into their own little world, lovebirds whispering and laughing softly, entirely lost to anyone else at the table. Their giddy exchange contrasts sharply with the tension simmering between you and Simon.

You shift in your seat, feeling the press of his knee against yours again. It’s subtle, almost imperceptible, but the contact makes your pulse quicken. You glance at him out of the corner of your eye, wondering if it’s intentional. If he notices your reaction, he doesn’t show it.

Across the table, Price and Kyle keep the conversation flowing, their camaraderie effortless. You envy the ease they seem to find in this dynamic, the sense of belonging that eludes you in this moment.

Eventually, you decide to call it a night.

“Think I’ll head out, guys.”

You say, grabbing your bag. You glance toward Ishta, but she’s too busy twirling a strand of Johnny’s hair between her fingers, practically sitting in his lap.

Kyle stands, reaching for his jacket.

“Want me to walk you home, love?”

Before you can answer, Price butts in.

“Think Simon’s closer. Said you're neighbors, right?”

Your mouth goes dry.

“Oh, uh. Yeah.”

“He'll take you home. Don't need Kyle chasing up your dress.”

Simon finally looks at you, dark eyes unreadable. Without another word, he gets up.

***

The train ride back is painfully silent, tension coiling thick between you. Simon doesn’t make small talk, doesn’t fill the awkward space with meaningless words, and you can’t decide if you’re grateful or annoyed.

When you finally reach your apartment, you stop at the door, fumbling with your keys. You unlock it and step inside, turning to offer a polite, “Goodnight.”

Before you can close the door, Simon’s boot wedges into the frame.

“No kiss goodnight?”

He murmurs, pulling down his mask, voice low.

“Do you always have to be like this?”

You mumble, leaning forward and tilting your head up.

“You like it.”

He replies, pressing his scarred lips against your glossed ones.

The kiss lingers in your mind longer than it lasts, the warmth still spreading through your limbs. He pulls away, slipping his hands into the pockets of his hoodie. You stand with the door still open,

“Ok, well, goodnigh-”

“Not gonna invite me in for a drink?”

The way he says it—like he’s giving you the option, but he knows exactly how this game goes—brings a rush of heat to your cheeks.You hesitate for a moment, the weight of the night pressing down on you, but it hits you then—you’ve been waiting for him to make this move. Simon knows exactly how to push just enough, always teetering on the line between being too much and just enough.

You tilt your head, playing the game, your voice teasing.

“I don’t believe in letting strangers into my place, Ghost.”

His jaw tightens at the name, a flash of something flickering behind his eyes, but he recovers quickly, scanning your face with a quiet intensity.

“Hit your head, angel? The name’s Simon, remember?”

“Hmm,”

You cock your head, a playful smirk curling on your lips as you tease,

“Hmm, doesn’t ring a bell, sorry.”

Simon’s expression shifts, eyes narrowing just a fraction as his lips curl into a grin.

“No? Thought you’d remember it with how many times you say it when I’ve got you bent over that couch.”

“Simon!”

You gasp with a smile.

“Glad to see your memories back, love. Had me worried there for a moment.”

His voice drips with smug satisfaction, fingers creeping around your waist as you step backward into your apartment. His movements mirror yours, closing the distance, the same familiar rhythm between you two. Except this time, the dance ends in your bed, bathed in silvery moonlight that filters through the windows, casting shadows and soft glimmers over the room.

What he says to you in that space, the things he says are as depraved as they are tender, sinful words laced with something softer, gentler. And in that moment, you realize they’re the sweetest things Simon is capable of offering.

Lying on his chest, you let your thoughts drift, his sparse chest hair tickling the side of your face. The steady rhythm of his heartbeat drums against your ear as your fingers trace lazy circles on his skin. His hand mirrors yours, gently skimming the small of your back in slow, soothing motions.

You enjoy these moments just aas much as the more heated ones—maybe more. They feel almost domestic, like peeking through the keyhole of something you tell yourself you can’t have. But for now, it’s enough. It fills that quiet loneliness you feel some days.

Simon presses a soft kiss to the crown of your head, his lips lingering there for a beat longer than you expect. It feels like him savoring the closeness he so rarely allows himself.

“Mind if I sleep here tonight?”

His voice low and casual.

Your body goes stiff before you can stop it, and his hand on your back stills.

“Oh,”

You say, forcing a laugh that cracks at the edges.

“Didn’t think you’d grown tired of your bachelor setup. What happened? Mattress on the floor finally giving up on you?”

Simon hums, unbothered, his fingers resuming their lazy path.

“Figured I’d upgrade. You offering?”

Your heart stutters in your chest, and you sit up quickly, putting a small but deliberate distance between you.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

He doesn’t move, watching you with hooded eyes, his expression calm, unreadable.

“Why not? Thought we were comfortable now.”

His tone is deceptively light, but you can hear the challenge beneath it.

“I don’t sleep well with someone else in the bed,” You say, crossing your arms, covering your bare chest.

“It’s just a thing—I’m used to having my space.”

“Space, huh?”

He sits up and leans back against the wall, hands clasped behind his head, looking entirely too at ease.

“Didn’t seem to need space a few minutes ago, angel.”

You frown, heat rising to your face.

“That’s different. Sleeping is… it’s personal.”

He smirks, tilting his head slightly.

“And what we just did isn’t?”

You bite the inside of your cheek, trying to keep your irritation in check.

“You know what I mean, Simon.”

“Not sure I do,”

His tone is playful, but there’s a stubborn edge to it now.

“Seems to me like you’re just makin’ excuses.”

“I’m not.”

The words come out sharper than you intended. You sigh, running a hand through his short hair, an apology of sorts.

“It’s just… I’m not ready for that.”

“A lil sleepover?”

He tilts his head. Before you can respond, he grabs your face with one hand, his fingers pressing against your cheeks to make your lips pout.

You yank your head away, sucking your teeth in frustration.

“You’re impossible.”

He grins, leaning back against the wall like he’s won something.

“Am I? Or are you just makin’ this harder than it needs to be?”

“Simon,”

You snap,

“It’s not about being hard or easy. It’s about boundaries. Respecting them.”

“Boundaries?”

He raises an eyebrow, the smirk slipping just slightly.

“Since when have we had those?”

Never, you think to yourself. It's a little distressing if you think about it too long, letting a man have such sway on you.

He pulls you closer, his thick arms wrapping around you with an ease that feels as natural as it is intrusive. You don’t resist, though. Instead, your fingers trace the inked lines on his forearm, a distraction, an excuse not to look him in the eye.

“Think you got one more in you?”

His voice is low, dipping into something softer, coaxing.

“I’ll be out your hair after that.”

You can’t help the faint smile that tugs at your lips, even though you hate yourself for giving in so easily. It’s always like this with him—pushing, pulling, finding that sliver of space where you’re weak enough to let him in.

“Yeah,”

You murmur, leaning just slightly into his touch,

“Think I do.”

His lips curve into a grin, satisfied, but he doesn’t say anything more. Instead, he pulls you into his lap. And just like always, he gets exactly what he wants.

Prev | Next

[damnfeelings09]

Animals AU - Shadow's version

A.N: This my first time attempting to write smut so let me know it it sucks! Remember RED PARTS ARE STALKER THOUGHTS, GREEN ARE YOURS. Always check behind your back twice, someone might be following you.

NFSW: Stalking, blood, weapons, bad leanguage, smut, dark romance +18

“Look who comes crawling back to me. Nice of you to decide to join us bunny,” he said with a smirk.

“Shut up you idiota. Let's get this over with.” you said standing up on the mat. Shadow walked around you, forming a circle. “Can you stop that? you make me dizzy.”

“Wow, you must really like me bunny.”

“Sorry to burst your bubble but you're not my type hedgehog.”

“Keep telling yourself that bunny. I'm everyone's type.” In one move Shadow had you back against the ground, his hips positioned over you and hands pined above your head. You didn't see that coming. “You're slow.”

Annoyed you tried to roll under him only to have him hold you even tighter this time with both legs hugging your hips. His eyes examined every part of your face, his intense gaze making you flush. Once again your heart was pounding.  “Get off me,” you said, trying to get away.

“You didn't say the magic word bunny.”

“Get off me, you pervert.” You released one of your hands and punched him in the stomach with all your might. Shadow unbalanced freeing one of your legs, you took the opportunity to escape. Once you were on your feet again you got into a defensive stance and prayed that muscle memory was enough. You let out a kick, but before you hit Shadow's leg he grabbed your foot with his hand throwing you to the ground once again.

“You really suck at this bunny. I'll fail this class because of you.”

You snorted in annoyance as you stood up, it had only been a few minutes but you already wanted to kill each other, this wasn't going to work.

“Excuse me for not being an alien hedgehog on steroids.”

“Ouch, you hurt my feelings,” he said placing his hand over his heart. Again he walked in circles around you.

“Please, you don't have feelings,” you replied.

“Right, just for you bunny.” He proceeded to laugh as he attacked you again. You had already lost count of how many times you had ended up on the floor with Shadow on top of you. When class was over, you crawled literally into the shower. Your body aching from every fall, you were grateful for the relief the hot water brought you. Your next class wasn't for another 2hrs so you let yourself soak in the sweet steam. Soaping every part of your body trying to wash away the humiliation you had been through.

You couldn’t spend more time thinking about that idiot. You had bbigger problems, like figuring out what to do with the psycho on the phone. He knew where you lived and had been watching you. You felt stupid. Stupid for finding the number and calling and even more stupid for being naive enough to answer the call later. You didn't want to remember, but your mind traveled there. To that deep, alluring voice that had overpowered you in a few minutes. Your hands instinctively caressing your body as you thought of him.

Who was it, why had he left his number, had it been intentional, what did he look like. The heat building up in your lower belly. Need taken over you and when you noticed your middle finger was already circling your clit. You stifled a moan. You were alone in the showers, alone in the locker room, no one would know what was going on, better yet, no one would know why. Releasing your inhibitions, you moved faster as your other hand searched for your nipples while you imagined his hands... Would they be rough? Soft? Would they be hands or claws? What if it was a Mobian with sharp, thin claws?

“Ah...“ a moan escaped your lips. You wouldn't deny it, mobians were hot. Especially a mobian with dark spikes and red tips... You remembered the touch of Shadow's hands on your body, when he held you against the ground taking you by the hips, he was a prick, but he was a very hot prick. “Ah...“You imagined what it would feel like to have him on you once again, with nothing to prevent contact. His strong arms holding you tight, the friction between his chest fur and your breast, the way your hips would move in a perfect symphony as he fill you in completely. With that image you came, your orgasm had been intense, waves of ecstasy hitting every muscle in your body, almost making you fall on your knees. Between gasps you managed to catch your breath and after a few minutes you stepped out of the shower. As you got dressed you could feel the shudder down your back. Trying to shake off the feeling of shame for having done it while thinking about Shadow.

Surgery was definitely not your best assigment and it was evident, every time you left class frowning, walking fast, almost running past your classmates to leave the room before Professor Brown caught up with you. Victor Brown was the dean of the medical school, head of the surgical department and a pain in the ass. In your first year he had made you retake the exam because he thought you were cheating, the second year he had run you out of the OR 3 times, you had spent more time in his office than in front of the operating table, plus he had hit on you every chance he got. As you walked through the door you let out a breath that you didn't know you were holding. It was 20:30pm, Mailo should’ve already halfway to the University, this time you would have to make the trip back to the city alone.

However, before going home you would have to pick up your laptop from your locker. You quickly made your way across the main garden towards Hall B. The corridors were almost empty, one or two students in sight who were also heading for the exit.

When you got to your locker it was desolate, you checked your cell phone 20:45pm, the last bus would arrive soon and if you missed it you would have to walk through the forest to get to the nearest bus stop. You put the combination of your locker, a shiver creeping through the skin of your neck, an uncomfortable feeling sitting on your stomach, instinctively you turned around but there was nothing, perhaps just your imagination. You grabbed your laptop and put it inside your backpack, once again that feeling as if being watched creeping on the back of your head.

“Hello?” you asked. “Is anyone there?” No one answer, so you turned your attention back to the zipper of your backpack. As you were about to close the locker, you heard banging. You raised your head through the locker door to find a silhouette standing at the end of the hallway, trying to open the door towards you. Fear came over your face, paralyzing you as you watched the figure break through the glass, put his arm through and open the door. In a second your legs came back to life and you started the fastest run of your life out the back door of Hall B.

Maybe you think that you can hide

I can smell your scent from miles…

The night was quiet, the only noise was your footsteps and the footsteps behind you. Fast, strong, constant, following you. You didn't think, you just ran wherever you could, crashing against the walls, almost losing your balance twice. Your body slammed against the front door trying to open it but someone had put a chain n’ lock on it. You took your cell phone it was 21:00pm the last bus with the students had left, you had no escape and there was a psycho chasing you. The footsteps were approaching with speed, soon he would be here.  Your only escape was that door. You crouched down pushing it, leaving a small space,

“If my head goes in, I'll make it.” You thought. First you threw your backpack, then you stuck your head in, brushing your nose against the door. Half of your body was outside when that being found you, running as fast as he could to catch you, fortunately, you had always been good with flexibility and managed to get out before he arrived. For a few seconds he watched you and then ran back the same way. You had gained a little time, it would take him at least 8 minutes to find the exit and get back to where you were, you quickly got up and ran without direction. Your thoughts racing, trying to sort them out while your feet just ran. Distracted, you didn't notice the white lights until they were inches away from you. Overwhelmed by the chase and almost being run over, you tried to focus your eyes, but the lights had momentarily blinded you, the ringing in your ears not allowing you to understand what the other person was saying.

“The fuck bunny?! I almost ran you over.” There was only one person who called you that and at this point you didn't care that he was your savior, Shadow. “Get out of the way.” His raspy voice sounded angry but you were happy to see him as you ran to his side and grabbed his arm.

“Wait!” you begged “Please get me out of here.” Shadow turned up the visor of his helmet, looked at you for a second, his crimson eyes noticing your desperation, but you were too scared to notice the gleam in his eyes.

“Put this on,” he said, placing his helmet over your head, adjusting it. You quickly slipped your leg over and settled onto his bike “Hold on tight.”

Shadow took off. You had heard he liked to ride, but you never imagined he would ride like this. Your arms wrapped around Shadow's waist, pressing your bodies together. Feeling you so close, Shadow accelerated. The motorcycle roared loudly, gold-orange sparks flying from it. You were going so fast, your grip became tighter, feeling the muscles under his clothes, you closed your eyes and when you opened them again you found yourself in the middle of the city lights, far away from the danger.

[yanderemommabean]

Yandere red room idea

The Red rooms. It’s not something He really thought he’d find himself using but here he is, walking up the corridor with a key card in his pocket. It’s definitely a secret society type of deal, code words, secret hand gestures, one use keys, all the security one could imagine. The first time he even heard of such a place like this, he assumed it was dark internet fetish mumbo jumbo. 

But after he found you, well, the right people found him and led him to the right place. Not a room of pain, but one of pleasure, to show his darling all of his intense love and emotion and then some. 

He hasn’t even booked a room yet, he’s here as a sort of consultation visit. To see if he really has the balls to do this and show that yes, he adores you, and that his love outweighs anyone else’s. 

Sliding the card into the door brought him into an empty room besides a desk, a few chairs, and two large filing cabinets. He takes a look around, quickly surveying the area, before stepping inside fully and sitting in the chair facing the large office chair in front of him. Before he can let his shoulders relax, a man follows in behind him, followed by a woman as well, both dressed professionally and seeming very…happy. 

“Ah! It’s good to see you, Mr-” 

“Lee, you can just call me Lee. And you are?” He asks, gesturing to the woman standing beside the man in the suit as he begins to open a manilla envelope, spreading the papers out on the table. 

“Victoria. We can leave it at that. I can tell that you know secrecy and customer privacy are our top priority with this business” She says with a knowing smile, sliding the papers over to face them towards the doctor.

“Now, Lee, What we have here is a very basic outline of what we can do for you and that love bug you’ve found yourself. We celebrate rather than punish our loved ones here, and want them to understand that to their core! We find that the red room experience helps!” The man exclaims with excitement, but has yet to really introduce himself. 

Lee was told to expect that however. The leader behind this all was kind enough to reach out but he wasn’t to expect anything too personal. “All business” was his very aura, and Lee could respect that. He nods along as Victoria took the reigns, explaining some of their core beliefs before getting to what Lee really wanted to know. 

“We can make the room however you please, lease it for up to four days at a time with personnel who checks in every four hours with their own special keys, for the darlings sake. As much as we wish to fully trust our customers, we will not take the risk of them dying or being seriously injured in any way. As stated, this is a way to show love and we give you the tools to do so! “ Victoria then spreads apart the papers, pointing here and there as she explains a bit more, intriguing Lee with every bit. “We have romantic layouts like at a hotel, we have BDSM specialist rooms, we have very highly rated toys and devices that we inspect and clean before each room is ready, and we have a live stream option if you’re the type who thinks everyone should see the pleasure you’re darling is receiving! I personally recommend the tribbing machines with the black rose theme if you prefer the dom and sub type of vibe, but we can personalize however you like!” 

Huh. Wow. They’re very thorough aren’t they? 

The business man nods, sitting back in his seat as he adjusts his tie. “I started many companies in my life, all based on bringing smiles and joy, and it’s my personal belief that there needs to be a company looking out for your lover! Love, adventurous or more mellow, is a beautiful thing that our darlings need to be showered in as much as possible. If you’d like, this can also be set up in a way to just calmly express your love to your darling, but I will clarify that it isn’t guaranteed to go well…I advise getting our crews to pick them up and deliver them for you, with every person being given a  background check of course! Safety and security is what comes first for your darling” 

Lee was a bit flabbergasted to say the least. They talk so professionally, have such a strange ethic to them, and they act as if he’s about to buy a company or large house rather than finally get ahold of the love of his life. It’s…Odd but charming. He can’t say he’s turned away from this, in fact he has a few ideas for his own red room. 

“Are they CPR trained and do they have basic first aid knowledge?” Lee asks as he looks over some more of the photos, liking the array of toys they had up for use to add to the room, each one costing extra of course but for what he had planned…it wouldn’t be too bad. 

Victoria smirks, laughing lightly in amusement “I can see we’ve caught even more of your attention. We can make sure these personnel are trained for the pick up, but our permanent staff are already trained in first aid help and some, even small surgical emergencies. You know, always needing to be prepared and all”. 

They talk  a few more things out, Lee deciding that if these people were serious, then he could trust them. If they crossed him in any way, he’d easily rid at least a handful of them. He didn’t get that gut feeling he usually does when people are lying to him however. This felt thorough and legit and well…Professional. 

“It’s a pleasure doing business with you Mr Lee. We’ll be getting in touch with you shortly! You wont regret setting this up-” the business man says with a firm handshake, smiling in an almost uncanny way. “And remember, when you’re in a bind, one of our smiles will ease your mind"

-Mommabean (This was so silly but I hope you enjoyed nonetheless!)

[covenofagatha]

hello hello! it's been a full day or two since i popped by (i had to study. devastating, truly) and I've been SAVING your fics and making a point to not spoil myself before i read them.

anyway, i just finished them all in one go and.... wow. yes, i understand the influx of asks demanding happy endings because how dare your writing have me in a unrelenting grip of horniness and despair? horrible. it should only be the former /nm

stepmom fic was always one of my favourites and i was ecstatic that it was brought back to life with your incredible talent again ☺️

of course, no ask of mine is complete without a tiny worm. let me know what you think of this miss covenofagatha:

desperate agatha this desperate reader that.... what about desperate rio vidal?

(ft. mommy! agatha, babygirl! reader, g! p rio, choking like once, tiny tiny worm)

inspired by the chronicles of FFF and NNN with you and agatha, it's only right you give rio a shot (or not, ha) at it. after she's gone for particularly long without telling you both (again), the two of you decide it's time for her to get punished in her least favourite way: edging.

she doesn't take you seriously when you tell her, not believing her sweet little girl would be serious, but when agatha backs you up it dawns on her how screwed she is. one of you is... well. one thing. but when you two join forces? it's torture.

in the first week, it's surprisingly worse than she thought it would be. being gone for so long meant rio was already worked up, and she'd been looking forward to being all over you the moment she'd gotten home, but apparently not. for a few days, you and agatha work separately. agatha mumbles a few dirty words in her ear, about how she "must be so pent up, huh, my love?" while you tease her with a few easy flashes of skin here and there. it's astonishingly easy to get her riled up, and more than once rio has to excuse herself because she can't stop imagining the two of you touching her. despite this, she persists, snarking about "can't even do anything about me, huh?" all while having to rush off so she doesn't get hard.

the second week, she settles a little. at the same time, you and agatha team up to tease her. agatha's arms wrapped around rio as she pulls her possessively, you gently pressing kisses along her abdomen. she squirms, but because it's so soft and domestic she feels awfully bad about destroying it with how hard her bulge is straining against her boxers.

the third week is when it all goes downhill. rather than touching her, it's all about you and agatha -- fucking each other. in front of her. she feels like a voyeur, even though you two invite her to join you, but mock her regardless. it, humiliatingly, turns her on. the fact that the two of you fuck like bunnies (sorry señor scratchy) while she's in the bed, hearing you blatantly call her name while agatha coos that you're "mommy's good little girl" and that you're "so obedient, moaning rio's name like i told you to," as your mommy plunges two fingers into you.

rio holds out for a grand total of two (2) more days, each one filled with her having to camp out in the basement to avoid hearing your wet, desperate sounds of skin upon skin. what makes her break, however, isn't even contact with her cock. it's a combination of agatha and you taking one boob each in your mouths, licking and nipping gently, and agatha's hand reaching out to grasp her neck while you dig your fingernails into her back, and she keens loudly before exploding all over the sheets.

you pull back, stunned, while agatha scoffs in amusement. "i knew i'd last longer than you," she declares smugly, and rio growls once before she pounces.

-

short one this time! I've been thinking about bratty rio too but not sure what you think of that.... hmmm.......

unfortunately my workload from both my actual job AND my classes are steadily rising so i don't have the chance to type out my brainworms as much.. but please have heart and know i will always check this blog religiously, haha. all the best dear 💜

-lots of love, worm anon

Omg hey I missed you (but completely understand work and studying ugh gross)! I think we should just all settle in for a lot of horniness and despair which is such a good mix

I am absolutely obsessed with this brainworm oh my god thank you so much for sharing and I would actually be so down to write about this because fuck this is hot

[selineram3421]

Hey? I just found your account and absolutely love it!

When you write with Alastor I always get this vibe from him:

And absolutely love for it 😭🥰

Oh my god.

Matched Search History

Prologue

Alastor X Writer Reader

Warnings⚠

⚠ Human AU, serial killer stuff so expect murder or mentions of it, oh and blood/gore, cussing, all caps for screeching/yelling, italics=thoughts, mentions of death, slight introvert reader ⚠

It wasn't your idea but your friend's.

There was a website that matched you with someone that had similar search history.

Currently, both of you were in the cafe with coffee and snacks, sitting at a two person table and having the usual friend hangout until she brought it up.

"Isn't that...a breach of privacy? How is this allowed?", you asked concerned.

"They only get what you give them! Like a questionnaire thing. You put down what you search and they set you up with someone!", she says and shows you the site on her phone.

"This is shady as fuck.", you say.

"Ok, maybe a little bit but you put what you want shared!", she smiles. "I mean you can meet another writer or someone who is super hot!"

Honestly you didn't know what to think of it, but maybe you could give it a shot.

I mean what's the worse that could happen? Haha..

"Ok..", you sighed and gave her the go to for making your account.

"Yay!", she squealed and started up a new profile. "Ok, so name, age, occupation..", she started typing furiously.

Once the basics were set up, she passed the phone to you to fill out the questionnaire.

At Matched Search History we only share what you give us! Any information you put into the system will be coded to find your Search History Partner, any other information you add in will also be added but stored away privately.

Please be aware that if any home address is added in the BIO or in MESSAGES it will be made public.

Yup. Shady shit right here. You thought and kept reading.

What do you search the most?

Answer: _______

You snort and type out murder techniques and first aid.

I'm definitely on the FBI list. You smile.

After taking care of the first one, you put down recipes, art and art history, science, little things like radio technology and other in depth research. You also make sure to put down cats.

"Here.", you hand the phone back.

"Wow that's a lot.", your friend scrolls down your list.

"What did you expect? I do a lot of searching on my laptop for the littlest things.", you shrug.

"Yeah, should have expected that.", she nods and looks through her photo album in her phone.

Leaning on the table, you look as she scrolls for the perfect photo.

"Which one are you gonna pick?", you ask and take a sip of your coffee.

"That cute one where you're hugging a cat.", your friend replies.

"Nah. Put the Halloween one."

She stops scrolling to look you dead in the eye, only to see your smug grin.

"No."

"Aw what? Come on!", you whine. "It'll be funny!"

"No! You're covered in fake blood!", she rejects the idea.

"But think of it! It would be fucking hilarious.", you nudge her arm.

"No and that's final! I'm putting this one!", she says and adds a photo without looking.

.

You honestly forgot about the account you both made until you got a bunch of emails about the website finding your match. You ignored most of them as they didn't go over 70%, that was until you saw the one you got today.

"What?", you asked with a mouth stuffed with noodles, being in the middle of eating lunch.

Picking up your phone, you check the email and feel your eyes widen.

You immediately called your friend.

"DUDE!"

"What?", she asks.

"THERE'S A HOT GUY WHO MATCHED 98% WITH ME!! WHAT DO I DO!?!?"

"Send me his pic! Duh!", she replies.

You take a screenshot of his profile picture and send it over.

"HOLY SHIT! I KNOW WHO THAT IS!!!"

"Who is it?", you ask.

"Don't you listen to his podcasts!?", your friend screeches. "He's the hot voice talking about murder mysteries and other creepy shit! You always listen to him while writing!"

"Huh, so this is him?", you ask. "How do you know? You hate hearing creepy stuff."

"I got bored one day.", she says.

Understandable. You thought. "Ok but back onto the topic. WHAT DO I DO!?"

"Send that love message to meet up!", she replied.

You deadpanned.

I have to go outside? I mean it wouldn't be bad if we went to a cafe or library. Maybe a bookstore... You thought.

"Fine. Since we already know his face he won't be able to run far if anything happens.", you said, making up your decision.

"Geez, don't talk like you're about to die.", your friend groaned.

"What? It's true.", you say. "Statistically, women are more likely to get killed on a date. Which doesn't rule out males but it does happen."

"UGH! Send me pics of what you're going to wear already!", she demanded.

.

You sat on a bench near a bus stop, messaging your friend. It was the best location for you to wait, there were multiple people around and restaurants with cameras.

Not gonna find out my address~ You sang in your head as you messaged your "match" that you had arrived.

You messaged him a brief description of your features and what you were wearing, so that way he wouldn't go around like a headless chicken trying to look for you.

Just in case things went south, you had a back up outfit to change into.

As you waited, a sudden thought came up.

Why was he on the dating site MSH? You wondered. Maybe his friend also pressured him to make a profile or someone else.

Then another thought.

What if it isn't him and someone just used a random photo they found to put up? You frowned at that. I hope that's not the case. That would be very annoying to deal with.

"Now, I hope that I'm not the reason my date is wearing a frown."

Turning your head to see who had decided to approach you, you saw a familiar face and warm reddish copper eyes. He was dressed very nicely, white button up long sleeve, dark red knit sweater vest, black pants, and black looking dress shoes.

"I'm Alastor.", he smiled. "And you are my date for this evening, yes?"

Damn it. You thought, trying to keep a straight face. He looks like a bookish nerd and that is definitely my type.

You stood up from the bench and gave a smile back.

"Nice to meet you.", you greeted and then introduced yourself.

Thank you for bringing this to me. I have read this post but forgot about it until you brought it back.

~Seline, the person.

Taglist@

@c4rved-pumpk1n @scary-noodlesblog @stolas-thebirb @naelys-the-aster @biromanticboba @lbcreations-blog @ducky-died-inside @kiraisastay @pooplyface1423 @line-viper @117s-girl @spiderlegsling @alastorsgoldie @kcsketches @lofasofabread @kotaleee @im-coolrat @superzombiewho @speckle-meow-meow @jammcookie @dilucragnvindr-my-beloved @trashbin-nie @koioli @fatherlesschild2 @mmik3yy @just-here-reading @nealeart @hudiexiaoying @crystal-multiplefandomlover @glowinggoldfish0 @tiredgamerhere @fluffy-koalala @valenfawkes @willowshadenox @aria-tempest @alastor-simp @nonetheartist @gallantys @i-3at-kidz @luxky-aish @ceafighter @xalygatorx @xangel-8 @big-brother-problems @mistpurpl3 @chewbrry @willowbrookhoot @briethekitsune @alastorthirsty @sir-aadiboii @fuzzyturtlepaws @+?

ML II for Alastor🎙

[kuro4thegays]

- What does freedom look like without you? - What I cannon take.

[Word count: 2k - 1/9] [Aventurine x male!reader] [Content: suggestive, sexual themes, angst, implied sexual abuse(off screen), jealousy(reader), misunderstanding, alcohol, set during the Penacony story]

Penacony, the land of festivities, was truly something to behold. The warm city lights, painting what otherwise might have been cold streets, and the smooth jazz setting the mood were enough to take the hearts of most tourists. Unfortunately, you weren’t here for recreational reasons.

“Aventurine…” You opened the door of your unnecessarily luxurious hotel room only to be greeted by the sight of your work partner weakly leaning against the door frame. If it wasn’t for the way he looked like he could barely stand you might have straight up closed the door on him right then and there, but you still had some bits of sympathy left. “What are you doing here-” Aventurine didn’t give you the grace to finish the sentence, falling into your arms like an unsteady chair missing one of its legs. From this distance you could feel the alcohol oozing out of the other male, making the reason for such an uncharacteristically clumsy fall rather evident. “You reek of alcohol.” You couldn’t hide your thoughts on the matter. “And you smell so nice.” Aventurine on the other hand took the chance to make his appreciation known. He hid his face in the crook of your neck, inhaling the strangely comforting smell as you tried to come up with an appropriate response. You considered pushing him away, yet somehow you could already see him walking up to your door like a lost puppy again.

“Tch” The sound that left your lips wasn’t very reassuring, but regardless you pulled the very drunk Aventurine inside. “Sit down, you need something to drink.” You said, but Aventurine stayed practically attached to you like a koala bear. “Aventurine, are you even listening?” Curse your chest for being so warm because now there was no way of getting out of the other male’s grip. “Aventurine, you’re going to feel very sick in the morning if you don’t drink something right now.” Eventually you managed to push the drunkhead’s face out of your chest, holding his cheek a bit too tenderly as you looked into those intoxicating eyes. 

“Why do I even bother?” You sighed, but frankly, not even common sense was stopping you now. You helped Aventurine sit down on the nearby sofa, gently pushing his wobbly body down onto the steady surface. “Stay here, I’ll be right back.” You ran to get some water, yet as soon as you did so you could hear his wasted whines. “You can’t be leaving me alone in this state! I might die, you know!” You should have seen this coming. You came back as quickly as you went, but it seems like not even that was enough for Aventurine. “I didn’t know -hic- that you were the type to leave your drunk partner all alone.” He slurred, but you have already learnt that such childish teasing should only be met with a dose of cold ignoring. “Drink up.” Your voice left no room for negotiation as you brought the cool glass up to Aventurine’s loose lips.

Aventurine, of course, opened his mouth, readying himself for another complaint, but your hands were clearly faster. You pushed the glass into the drunk male’s mouth and watched cautiously so that he doesn’t choke on anything. “You’ll feel awful in the morning if you don’t.” Still, your voice held that tinge of gentleness. “And I honestly don’t want to have to deal with that.” But you quickly covered its last traces. 

Thank God, Aventurine found it in himself to shut up for at least this fleeting moment, otherwise you might have had to slap the back of his head one time too many. He gulped down everything you gave him, such desperation certainly not expected by someone who was pushing it away just a moment ago. “Wow [name], you -hic- truly are the sweetest.” Aventurine chuckled while you just gave him the usual look of annoyance. “You really are no fun, hmm?” It didn’t take long for him to return to complaining. Meanwhile, you returned the glass onto the counter. “What even brings you here?” You questioned. For God’s sake you were staying in the same hotel. Was it really that hard for him to climb the extra pair of stairs? 

Aventurne’s eyes lingered on your form for a minute more than they should have, but he eventually spoke. “How about we make a game out of it?” Somehow he could predict the expression that would grace your face even just at the suggestion. “Even at this ungodly hour of the night you’re still thinking about gambling? Such a vast character you must have.” But Aventurine only chuckled in response to your harsh words. You eyed the hickeys painting the skin of his neck and shoulders. Something about them makes you mad, unreasonably so. You knew not to pry, but God dammit Aventurine was your exception in many ways. Why were you feeling this way so suddenly? Somewhere inside that head of yours you were aware of Aventurine’s abilities, his unbreakable chain of luck, but the primal, jealous side screamed louder. Ah, yes, jealousy was the name of the curse that had befallen you. “And what’s in it for you?”

“If I win you let me stay the night.” He said it a bit too quickly, almost like he has been waiting for you to ask the question. In his drunken state it seemed almost like he lost all his negotiating skills, cute. “A coin toss?” Before you could even answer he was already preparing the coin, just like the first time you met, though this time you should have known better. “I’ll be heads, if you agree, of course.” You were nodding even before he got to finish his sentence, your eyes fully focused on the coin. “My, I couldn’t predict that you would be so eager -hic- to gamble.” Aventurine’s intoxicated hand was struggling to hold the coin straight. “Ready?” But the coin was already in the air. The gambler waited silently while your eyes were practically glued to the piece of gold, yet a shame that it didn’t change the result of the gamble. Heads. This should have been expected, but you couldn’t help but furrow your eyebrows in frustration. Is this what gambling was all about? “Damn it.” You cursed under your breath. “Oh, was someone getting invested?” Naturally, his teasing would only be getting more prominent after such an easy victory. At this exact moment you would have swore that your face was as neural as it could be, but Aventurine had a keen eye, he could see that small smile decorating your features. “No, I was just…” Words failed you yet again. It was hard arguing with such a pretty face. “I think you were~” You decided to stay quiet this time, hiding your expression under your hand. “No matter.” Aventurine concluded. “Just hope that there is enough space in your bed tonight.” You swore that drunk laughing was getting on your nerves, but maybe it wouldn’t hurt to hear it one more time. “Whatever.”

You both fell silent for a moment, unspoken words still floating somewhere within your minds, yet their exit was blocked off by something called ego. You were the one who gave in first. Your curiosity prevailed. “Where were you?” Your eyes traveled down the drunk man’s neck, those red marks still causing something inside you to burn. “At a bar, duh.” Aventurine dismissed the question. Your heart craved more, but after such an embarrassing loss, reason returned to you. You knew where the line was, or at least you would like to think so. Oh, but Aventurine noticed the hunger that seeped from your eyes. “You’re eying me like a piece of meat, you know?” His speech was still somewhat slurred, but his words were nothing but serious. “If that’s how you feel you should have said so.” Aventurine chuckled, yet this time there was something different about it. His laugh, dark and deep, echoed inside your head, hindering all attempts at forming a coherent thought useless. Before you could even process it Aventurine was already sitting closer to you. Closer and closer, the only thing separating you being the thin layer of hot air flowing between the two of you. “What?” You wanted to move even closer, but that quiet voice of reason at the back of your head was begging you not to. “What is the meaning of th-” But Aventurine shushed you, his intoxicating, almost predatory gaze locked on yours. You were losing control of the situation.

“Is it not clear to you, dear?” His voice would be enough to make anyone weak. “Let me show you.” “Wait! Aven-” You were quickly shut up with a heated wet kiss. You could feel the leftover alcohol on his tongue, just kissing him could make one feel tipsy, but you had to resist. You should have been the responsible one. “What the fuck, Aventurine?!” You pushed him away, for his own safety. “Hmm?” Aventurine still seemed a little lost, licking his lips as his eyes struggled to focus. “You can’t just go around doing… what you just did. Someone could… Someone could do something to you!” Just the thought disgust you, yet you had to stay firm.

“What? Didn’t you like that?” He retorted. “You know, they tell me that I am a great kisser.” His chuckles melted with his words, the alcohol’s effects taking over his sense of rationality. “No, that’s not it!” “So you like it?” “No!” The jealousy plaguing your heart morphed into concern. Who were ‘they’? Were ‘they’ the ones whose kisses covered Aventurine’s body? Were ‘they’ multiple people? You felt paralyzed by all the questions. But this wasn’t the time. “Aventurine, you’re drunk. You don’t know what you want.”

This sentence of yours hit Aventurine harder than it was meant to. Alcohol had its way of altering what people heard and understood. “Do you not trust me?” Aventurine stepped back. “Do you think I’m trying to deceive you?” He averted his gaze, not that it mattered much when his whole world was turning blurry. “That's not it, I just…” “But I’m yours, [name]!” Your words couldn't reach him. “No, you’re not!” You spat the words out quicker than intended, yet again, their meaning lost in intoxication’s hold over Aventurin’s cognitions. Perhaps those words caused something in him to break, or at least one would assume that by the way he wobbled backwards, seemingly lost. “But… I could make you feel so good if you just let me… Why?” He said, his steps getting unsteady. 

You quickly stood up, catching Aventurine before he could fall over. “You’re too drunk for this.” You shushed him, trying the best you could to drag him to the hotel bed. “But… what I feel is real… I promise.” He mumbled, yet his lips succumbed to the alcohol’s effect. His words were barely recognizable at this point as you laid him down on the bed.

“Do you hate m…” But his lips stopped moving before he could finish. You were still leaning over him, trying to figure out what had just happened. Have you failed? What was your partner talking about? Did it even matter at this point? You were the sober one, the responsible one. Yet, you couldn’t stop things from escalating, you couldn’t protect Aventurine. At this point you too could feel the sleepless nights creeping up on you. Though…

You are going to need a cold shower after this.

[Writer’s note: So good to see you again, no I have not been promising this since... um, February. Haha, it's here guys and in multiple parts. When I originally made that post I just had in mind this first chapter, but then I realized oh damn this could be a whole fucking story. Guess what? I made it into a whole story. I hope that I'll be able to cook up the next chapter next month, but for now the only thing I know is that my next work is going to be something for Kaveh's birthday because I love him. That's about it. Hope that you all thoroughly enjoy this. Bye bye.]

[yourfriendlyfanperson]

A Chemical Reaction Called Love

Chapter 2: More than a Coincidence

~Pairing: Steve Harrington x F!reader

~Summary: Being the daughter of Hawkins Middle School Science teacher, Scott Clarke, has its perks. Constantly having to explain things to 'King' Steve Harrington wasn't necessarily one of them but it was something you had gotten used to. He might not be the brightest guy but at least he tried, and you appreciated that. You had big plans for the future, but they might be forced to change thanks to a phone call...

~Warnings: Sensitive topics might be brought up so reader discretion is advised.

~Word Count: 2.8k

~Authors Note: Hey everyone! Here's chapter two! Thank you so much for the love on the first chapter, I'm still getting used to how posting fanfics on tumblr works so I appreciate all the likes and reposts! If you'd like to be tagged in the next chapter let me know! Once again you can find me on Ao3 as Lilpipsqueak and W-tpadd as friendlyfanperson!

If anyone could tell me how to do the number link thing where I can link the second chapter to add to chapter one I would be so so thankful I have no idea how to do it

~Narrator's POV~

"Y/n, Y/n, Y/n, Y/n!"

She stops walking, turning around to look at who was calling her name in the corridor, and she sees Robin rushing towards her, almost falling back but she catches her balance before she falls and continues running towards her.

"You won't believe what I just saw," She says stopping in front of her.

"What?! What happened?" She asked, wondering what exciting information she found out now.

"Steve Harrington is going out with Nancy Wheeler," She told her, eyes wide open, "Can you believe it? I thought he only dated the pretty easy-to hook up with girls"

"I thought that too, but I also guessed something might be going on between them since I saw them hanging out yesterday" She shares with Robin, "I never would've guessed that Nancy would be the type of girl to go out with someone like Steve"

"Right! I mean she's so smart and pretty! She could get any guy in Hawkins and she went for the dumb popular guy of all" Robin said, she had never been able to understand what people saw in Steve, she saw him as a grade A asshole.

Y/n thought Steve was okay, she didn't want to have much of an opinion on him since she didn't talk to him outside of the classroom so technically didn't know the 'real' him, but she didn't hate him or anything like that.

"Maybe there's something about him that they see" She points out.

"Or maybe they just have such a low-self esteem they will settle for someone like him"

"You really don't like him do you?" She asks her, knowing very well her answer.

"I have a right to dislike him alright, he's an asshole to some people, is rich and he gets the chance to date most if not all of my crushes" Robin explains annoyed.

"How is he being rich something that adds to him being an asshole?" Y/n asks confused as to how that comment is relevant to the conversation.

"Because, meanwhile we're both here poor with our part-time jobs" She complains opening her locker as she takes out her books.

"I'm pretty sure he can't help the fact he's rich, and I'm not really poor, so technically you should hate me too," She tells her, partially joking.

"I could never hate you though, and you're economically okay"

"Wow, so you're saying I'm almost poor?" Y/n asks her walking to her next classroom.

"I mean...no, but also yes" Robin explains to her.

"Rude" Y/n adds as she pushes Robin away from her.

They both laugh at each other as they continue walking down the corridor, knowing that this is just one of their usual banters. Yet Steve stayed at the back of Y/n's mind after the conversation ended and she wondered what type of person he really is, whether he's an asshole like many think, or whether there's more to him than meets the eyes.

She had most lessons with Steve actually, but they never really talked outside of science, she guessed it was due to the fact in his other classes he sat next to Tommy or some of his popular friends, so it would be weird for him to speak to Y/n as if they were close friends since they weren't, she wasn't even sure if they were friends, she supposed they were simply acquaintances, or just classmates, anything along those lines.

Sometimes she would catch him staring at her, which she found a bit strange but she guessed he just spaced out those times, it happened to her sometimes as well so she knew not to overthink about it. And there wasn't really a reason for her to overthink about it anyway, she didn't find Steve interesting in that way, sure she thought he was probably hiding more than what he led on, and that his only mystery was more than just him trying to act cool.

Other times he surprised her as well, those times tend to be whenever he asked her about the lesson and if she could help him understand what was actually taught, and today just happened to be one of those days.

"Hey, Einstein," Steve says walking over to Y/n's desk.

She looked back at him surprised by the sudden start of a conversation as she packed her books.

"Yeah?"

"Did you-umm, understand anything that Mr. Drew explained?" He asks, knowing full well that he spent half of the class talking with his friends and the other half trying to comprehend what was coming out of Mr. Drew's mouth.

"You're asking me if I understood the crash of Wall Street in 1929?" She responds, slightly confused on how someone couldn't understand at least the basics about it.

"Yes" Was all Steve was able to say, realising how stupid he must seem now.

"Yes I understood it, did you?" She asks, and he could tell she didn't seem to have any intention to judge him.

"I mean, honestly, no, but I wasn't paying much attention to be fair," He says, feeling okay with the fact he might be a bit of an idiot.

"You gotta start paying more attention in class Steve, we graduate next year," Y/n tells him as she takes one of the books in her bag out again.

"I know, I know, and I will, I swear"

"You better, because I can help you study but I can't get you the grades at the end of the day. Now, here are the notes I took of today's class, they're pretty self-explanatory but if you need help with them just let me know and I'll go over the topic" She explained handing him her notebook.

"I own you big time" He smiles at her taking the notebook and putting it in his bag

"This is like the thirtieth time you've said that, you own me a lot," She tells him, mostly just joking, but also keeping it in mind.

"I know, but I'll pay you back one day," He tells her, actually being serious and wanting to eventually thank her for all her help.

"You don't actually have to, you know? I help you because I want to, not to get something in return" She points out as both of them start walking out of the room.

"I know, but I still need to thank you, you've helped me more than anyone else, even though it must get annoying"

"And there you're very right, it can be annoying at times but it's not so bad" He looks at her confused, unsure whether he should take it as a compliment or be offended.

"Is that supposed to be a good comment?" He asks.

"Well-"

"Hey, Y/n have you seen Barb around? Or do you know anyone that has seen her today?" Nancy asks her clearly worried.

"No sorry, I haven't seen her, I don't think anyone I know has any lessons with her so I doubt they'd know," Y/n tells her, a bit surprised by the question given the fact she never talked to Barb and was a year older than both of them so there was no way she would have any of her classes with her, "Maybe she's off sick"

"Yeah don't worry about it too much Nance I'm sure she's fine," Steve tells her, taking her hand and moving closer to her. Y/n knew it was time for her to go.

"I'll let you know if I hear of her though, I'll see you guys around," She said waving goodbye at them and walking off to her next lesson.

The rest of the day was pretty normal, nothing exciting ever really happened in Hawkins anyway, so aside from school and work there was nothing Y/n had to worry about, except, of course, the fact that Will was still missing and was yet to be found.

She hoped that what they had found last night would at least be a start, but she also knew that maybe what they found meant nothing to the investigation. All she wanted though was for Will to be found and returned safely home.

"Do you have work today?" Robin asks her as they walk down the corridor, the school day finally over.

"Yeah, I'm taking the bus there since my dad has to stay late finishing some things, do you?"

"No, I worked yesterday so I'm free today, but I have to help out my mom with some things" Robin explained to her as she opened the door and they both walked out of the school.

"Sounds fun," Y/n said sarcastically.

"I mean it shouldn't be too bad, but when it comes to my mom there are times when I don't even know what will happen"

~~~~~~

"Do or die, what's done is done" Y/n sings as she skates down the night streets to her house. She had finished her shift for the day and was finally heading home after a long day of serving customers at the cafe, but she got some pretty good tips so she didn't have much to complain about.

Due to the fact she didn't own a car or a bike, she always skated from the cafe to her house, it wasn't too far away and she actually liked skating, it was her way of exercising (since she wasn't in any of the school's teams) and it was fun since she could listen to music while getting home.

Robin had told her that she should just save up for a bike since it was quicker but Y/n would rather save her money on something else that she either needed more or wanted more. 'You'll break your arm or leg one of these days' was what Robin always told her, but in her 7 years of having skates she had only scrapped her legs or arms, she also doubts the fact that tripping on something will make her end with a broken bone, so, for now, it seems she'll just stick to skating.

"Hey dad, I'm home," She says, unlocking the door and taking off her skates, "What's for dinner?"

She closed the door and left her bag next to his, taking off her coat and placing it on top of a chair.

"They gave me some mac and cheese that wasn't sold today so we could eat that if you haven't cooked anything," She told him walking to the living room where he was sitting watching the tv as she waited for his response, but there was none, "Dad? What do you-"

"On today's breaking news the body of Will Byers, who was announced missing just yesterday was found by the police minutes ago in the quarry"

Y/n's face drops as she hears the news, she takes a seat next to her dad as she keeps listening to the news trying to process what's going on, trying to process the fact that Will is dead.

"Chief Hopper believes he got lost after crashing his bike and accidentally fell, resulting in a tragic but hopefully painless death, but as of now it is just a theory, and we don't actually know if it was an accident, or perhaps something more. We give our condolences to the Byers family and we hope that they'll be able to get through these tough times "

Scott stands up and turns off the tv right after, not wanting to listen to any more details about the tragic death of his student and his daughter's friend.

Meanwhile, Y/n is still staring at the screen shocked, frozen in place, trying to understand the news she was just given, Will Byers, the little twelve-year-old boy which she babysat for years now has just been announced dead. She can't understand how such a thing can be possible, how a boy who had his whole life ahead, who was just beginning to live, who was the kindest person she had ever met, was dead just like that.

"Honey, are you okay?" Her dad asks her sitting back down.

"I-no, no I'm not," Y/n says as she starts crying.

Scott immediately pulls Y/n into a hug, her head hiding on his chest as she hugs him back, he patted her back gently moving his head on top of hers as he closed his eyes. He hoped that Will's death had indeed just been an accident, he had to make himself believe it was, because otherwise he might not be able to sleep for a while knowing that there could be someone out there who wants to hurt kids, and that could possibly hurt his daughter, he also couldn't believe that Will was dead, a boy he had been teaching for years and saw almost as his son, to end up with a fate late that. Y/n on the other hand just kept thinking about Will, what his final moments were like, whether he suffered or not, she couldn't even imagine how Joyce or Jonathan must be feeling getting the news that he is dead.

"I can't believe he's really dead" Y/n whispered as she stopped crying.

"I know honey, it'll be okay, how about I heat up the mac and cheese," He says, trying to help things calm down for just a second.

"It wouldn't be right if I tried to talk to them tomorrow would it?" She asks him.

"Talk to who?" Scott asks confused.

"Joyce and Jonathan, they probably need some space and time, so I should wait a bit before talking to them, right?"

"Yeah it would be better for them, they need to process everything first, let's wait a couple of days,"

Y/n nodded at her dad as she moved away from the hug, standing up and grabbing her bag, "So, mac and cheese?"

~~~~~~~~

The next day was exhausting, everyone around the corridors kept talking about Will and what had happened, Y/n was glad Jonathan wasn't in school because it would've made things impossible for him, she hoped he and Joyce were okay. She also kept thinking about Barb, Nancy had told her in the morning that she was missing and no one had seen her since Tuesday night. Two people now had gone missing, one of which had been found dead, and Y/n had a terrible feeling that maybe everything that was happening was more than just an accident.

"Just, don't mention the beers, it's just gonna get us both in trouble, and Barbara's got nothing to do with it, okay?" Y/n faintly heard someone say as she walked out of the school.

"I can't believe you right now... I can't believe you"

"Nancy!" She heard someone shout as she walked towards the middle school, she saw Nancy walking out of the spot between the school and gym, angry, like really angry, she didn't even look up when she passed by Y/n, she just kept walking straight to the school.

"Nancy come on!" She turned around and saw Steve coming out of the same spot, he wasn't trying to catch up to her, he knew she would ignore him anyway, "Einstein, hey" He says, his tone softer now as he turned to look at Y/n.

"Hey, everything okay?" She asks him, partially because it was the normal thing to do and also because she wanted to know what had happened, as nosy as it sounds.

"Yeah, everything's okay," He told her; Y/n knew he was lying, Steve knew she knew he was lying, but in a way, they both knew it would be better to leave it like that, "What about you?"

"Oh I'm fine, just walking to the middle school to help out with the assembly" She explained and he nodded at her.

"Cool"

"Yeah, well, I'll see you later," She said unsure of what to keep talking about, as she started walking away.

"Wait," He said walking closer to her, "How much did you hear?" He asked her.

"Honestly, not that much, only the end of it"

"Did it sound bad?" She looked at him confused.

"The argument?" She asked.

"Yes, the argument, did I sound like an asshole?" Y/n didn't think she could really make much out of what she heard, but it didn't sound great either.

"I mean- I barely heard anything, I don't even know the context of the conversation so I don't think it's right for me to say" She explained to him.

"That was a stupid question," Steve said shaking his head.

"If you think you were an asshole then you should apologise to Nancy, she's already having a rough time given the fact Barb is missing, I'm pretty sure she wouldn't want to deal with an argument at a time like this," She told him, trying to help, in some way at least, she wasn't sure what to say, but this was the best she could think of.

"You're right, I was an asshole. You know you give great advice"

"Thanks, well I'll get going now, I'll see you later Steve," She says waving goodbye at him as she starts to walk away.

"Yeah, I'll see you later Einstein" He adds softly smiling at her as he walks back into the school.

Thank you for reading! Any likes and reposts are appreciated!

[hvaneyflowers]

Family

*******

Fernando Alonso x femreader! family!

Instagram au | Part 3

Fernando and y/n have been married for 10 years, and for the last 9 years, y/n has been fighting against cancer. Because of this, they can't have children on their own, so they decided to adopt.

***************

yourusername

liked by fernandoalo_oficial, f1news, f1wags, and 890.670 more.

tagged: ferandoalo_oficial

yourusername: Matías wanted to know how his mommy and daddy met. So I took out our photo album. What an incredible journey this 12 years! I knew you were the one when I first saw you in that restaurant. Love you forever and looking forward to more years together! ❤️

view all 500 comments.

fernandoalo_oficial: Te amo mi amor! Gracias por todo. Eres el amor de mi vida ❤️ / I love you, my love! Thanks for everything. You're the love of my life!

yourusername: ❤️

username01: My favorite couple!!!

username54: Wow, 12 years together! Time passed so fast!

username67: I love you both so much!! Please never split up!

username2: If they do that, I won't believe in love again 😭 username9: Me neither!! They're so perfect together!

fernandoalonsofans: POWER COUPLE!! For more years to come!!!

username56: Love your wedding dress!!! It's beautiful!

f1wags: The original wag! Love both of you! ❤️

carmenmmundt: I really admire you! You were through hard things in life and still kill it like a queen! Love you, baby! ❤️

yourusername: Love you, too!

charles_leclerc: wait a minute! Did Fernando propose to you in a church? 🤨

fernandoalo_oficial: it wasn't a church, it was a museum! carlossainz55: I thought you were more romantic... lewishamilton: A museum isn't exactly the romantic type, ya know? charles_leclerc: if I were you, I would have asked her in a romantic dinner under the bright stars at the beach! yourusername: awww, Charles, that sounds so romantic! danielricciardo: That sounds really romantic, mate! I would have taken her ice skating and, in the middle of the rink, I would have gotten down on one knee! yourusername: R-O-M-A-N-T-I-C! Dani, you're always so cute! Love you! fernandoalo_oficial: 😒

fernandoalo_oficial

liked by yourusername, kimimatiasraikkonen, and 900.456 more

tagged: yourusername

fernandoalo_oficial: What a beautiful change you brought to our lives, my son! So grateful to have you!

view all 1000 comments.

yourusername: My little angel! Can't be more in love than I am right now! Love you, babe!

fernandoalo_oficial: Couldn't agree more! Love you, nena! ❤️❤️

alex_albon: so little Alonso is a mini chef! So cute!

charles_leclerc: Is he driving a Ferrari?

fernandoalo_oficial: no. It's an Aston Martin. carlossainz55: Doesn't seem like that. yourusername: believe it or not, it is an Aston Martin. charles_leclerc: mmm... I'm not so sure. carlossainz55: me neither. sebastianvettel: me neither. kimimatiasraikkonen: bwoah. fernandoalo_oficial: shut up!

username7: so cute!!!

username12: little Matias is so cute!!

username18: Fernando is training him to be the next World Champion in the Alonso family!

fernandoalonsofans: Baby Matias is so cute! Hoping to see him at the next race!

lilymhe: I want a baby ASAP!

landonorris: @.alex_albon carlossainz55: @.alex_albon danielricciardo: @.alexalbon georgerussell63: @.alex_albon lewishamilton: @.alex_albon pierregasly: @.alex_albon yukitsunoda0511: @.alex_albon alex_albon: 😮

yourusername

liked by fernandoalo_oficial, lewishamilton, and 500.790 more.

tagged: fernandoalo_oficial

yourusername: First vacations as a family of 3! Greece was amazing and Matias had the best time of his life learning how to swim with his daddy! Hoping to come back any time!

view all 400 comments.

fernandoalo_oficial: Best vacations ever! Now I want it to happen again but as a family of 4!

yourusername: Wishing for it too!

usernamme19: WAIT! WHAT?! A FAMILY OF 4?!

username12: Are you telling me they're planning to adopt again?! I HOPE IT IS A GIRL THIS TIME!

lance_stroll: are we having a new addition to the family? Can I be the godfather? 🥺

charles_leclerc: NOOOO! I want to be the godfather! I mean, Kimi is Matias' godfather, so is a Ferrari line! carlossainz55: In that case, I should be the godfather! yourusername: Yes, Lance, if we're having another baby, you can be the godfather, my love! ❣️ charles_leclerc: 💔 carlossainz55: 💔🥺

username2: What?! Kimi is Matias's godfather?! OMG, I'M DYING!

username4: Kimi Matias is the godfather of Matias Fernando. Facts!

kimimatiasraikkonen: loads of love to my godson!

yourusername: ❤️

lewishamilton: Roscoe wants to play with his new friend any time soon!

yourusername: Omg, Matias, too! He loved Roscoe and he asks about him a lot, almost every day! roscoelovescoco: love him!

lilymhe: are having a little girl any time soon?

yourusername: not soon, but in the future! 😉 carmenmmundt: hoping for it to happen! kellypiquet: P would love a little friend! the_crochet_girl: my baby girl, too! logjorup: my baby, too! yourusername: I WANT ONE NOW! I'M CRYING! @.fernandoalo_oficial can we have a baby girl, please?! fernandoalo_oficial: of course, my love! I want to be a girl dad ❤️❤️ yourusername: ❤️

[fairylibe]

between us and the moon.

1415 words. angst with some comfort, highly interpretive. based on jude's past records. features: child! jude jazza & kate, victor.

꒰ summary ꒱ kate gives child! jude a hug. some inspiration was taken from this fanart.

(I)

wherever he went, the moon followed.

the moonlight seemed so bright, jude couldn’t help but look down at the concrete.

today as well, the work was grueling.

but when he saw a familiar figure upon pushing the heavy door open, his heart lightened up just a little, and his features softened a tad.

“big brother, you’re home! what took ya so long?”

“took a detour.” jude collapsed on the floor, letting out a sigh.

the person before him tilted their head. “from where? goin’ through the nooks n’ crannies this time o’ night can be dangerous, ya know.”

jude closed his eyes for a moment — when he did, an image flashed in his mind.

“…today was a full moon.”

“hehe, thinkin’ ‘bout our promise? don’t go thinkin’ ‘bout breakin’ it.”

jude showed a small smile.

“…don’t matter if i gotta use money, magic, ya name it. someday, i’ll make it happen.”

——how could he not, when the image in his mind was engraved in his soul so deeply?

indeed, it was so clear, it could probably last ten thousand years.

(II)

“wow, the moon is so big…” as kate walked down the hallway, she looked out the window.

outside, the moon hung from the sky, so full and large she felt she could touch it.

“they say witchcraft’s at its strongest when the moon is at its largest.”

“eek!” kate jumped and turned around, seeing victor standing right behind her. “v-victor! don’t scare me like that!”

“haha, you must’ve been fairly out of it if you didn’t notice. bewitched by the moon tonight?”

“hm? oh, i guess…” kate’s voice trailed off as she looked back out the window.

victor’s gaze followed, his voice remaining lighthearted. “i have a tickling feeling some magic is going to happen tonight.”

kate chuckled as well at his somewhat theatric words. “what, are you holding another magic show?”

“aw, miss kate, could it be you miss my magic shows? you know i’m always happy to show you my tricks.” victor’s eyes were like crescents as he smiled, but then his expression recomposed. “…but i mean a different type of magic this time.”

“a different type?”

the corner of his lips quirked up as he brought his index finger up.

“be careful when opening doors after the clock strikes midnight. if you open the wrong door at the wrong time, i can’t guarantee you will be able to return safely until the next full moon.”

(III)

“▧▧▧▧, ya doin’ okay?”

they laid on the bed — a far cry from the energetic disposition they had just some time before.

now, coughing was a regular occurrence. sometimes, they would shiver as well.

jude held onto their hand, grasping it as tightly as his coarse fingers could.

it was as though he wanted to capture any sign of warmth.

or before that, he wanted to find a semblance of it.

“i’m…sorry…”

their voice came out as a raspy whisper before more coughing resounded in the room. the hand jude held gently held his back in a silent urge for him to relax.

although it did little to ease his mind.

after all, what they had couldn’t be treated without medicine.

and medicine costed money — more money than what he could currently make in a year, he reckoned.

jude clicked his tongue, more so annoyed at himself than anything else. but this only elicited an amused, albeit weak chuckle from his sibling.

“why so hard on yourself?” ▧▧▧▧ lifted jude’s hand, and he let them guide his hand as though they were the moon. “…you’re already like the moon to me. so that’s why…”

“▧▧▧▧…” jude’s voice trailed off, his amethyst eyes becoming more misty as he heard their voice fade into a whisper.

“that’s why…if i can stay by your side…that is more than enough.”

“then i’ll stay by your side,” jude replied, “it’s a promise ‘til the end.”

they gave jude a smile before turning their head to look up at the moon, high above the sky.

“i wonder how far the moon is,” they murmured.

jude didn’t know the answer then.

he eventually did find out —— but only when their voice faded to nothingness.

(IV)

kate couldn’t get victor’s words out of her head.

maybe he was indeed joking, but also…what if he was not? what would happen, then, were she to open a door she shouldn’t have?

sighing while mulling over her own thoughts, she turned the doorknob to her door, eager to plop onto the soft sheets of her bed, when——

“ahhh?!”

opening the door, she was greeted by a blinding light.

so bright…!

it took her a minute to adjust to her surroundings, her eyes slowly presenting her with a sight that looked somewhat familiar, but was also a far cry from her room.

“w-w-w-wha…”

the first thing she saw was a fight breaking out.

or…it wasn’t so much of a fight as it was a child, a boy who couldn’t have passed his teen years, getting beaten by some adults.

what stood out to kate was the amethyst-colored eyes this child had, which seemed to gleam with an unyielding flame of determination, only kindled by the inevitable pain.

what is going on?!

kate was bewildered, for sure, but also, she wanted to help that child as well.

her body moved on her own then.

“stop right there!!”

the child’s eyes widened, but he quickly recomposed himself. it would appear he was accustomed to such situations.

the attackers tried to retaliate, but they didn’t know that kate had a good mentor named roger when it came to the art of self defense.

when the attackers fled (not without spitting on the ground in contempt though), kate turned toward the child.

it was then she noticed his silver hair with black streaks.

“you…”

is this jude?

kate reached out to him to check to see if he was hurt, but the boy slapped her hand away, shooting kate a glare.

“i never asked for your help, ya goody two shoes.”

well, that was more than enough to answer the question that popped into her mind some mere seconds before.

(V)

who knows how much time had passed.

the first few days, kate ran into (child) jude, and he would swat her hand away, glare at her, and run off somewhere she didn’t know.

he kind of reminded her of a cat.

but as a bit more time went on, the two started making small talk.

“how long are you going to eat stale bread?”

“none o’ ya darn business.”

“actually, i think i have very valid concerns about your health, jude——ah.”

kate put her hands over her mouth, but it was too late.

jude looked at her, his brows raised.

“i didn’t tell ya my name. what does that make ya, a stalker?”

“no way!”

and, as a week passed, kate would sometimes find jude sitting on top of some burlap sacks piled on top of one another, looking up at the sky.

usually, his amethyst eyes had some fire in them, but when they looked at the moon, they seemed so dull in comparison. it was like he was deep in thought, but said thoughts weighed down on him, making him look far from a child.

one day — or one night — for the first time perhaps, jude asked kate a question.

“…how far is the moon?”

“…around 385,000 kilometers.” adult you told me at one point, after all.

jude spared kate a side glance before looking back up. “…i see.” after a pause, his next words came out in a murmur. “maybe if i met ya sooner, things would’ve been different.”

somehow, seeing his profile in the darkness, illuminated only by the silver moonlight, made him seem infinitely lonely…

and kate couldn’t help herself as she wrapped her arms around jude.

at first, he stiffened, but he didn’t push her away; he likely didn’t have much vigor to do so at this point.

no words were exchanged between them, but none were needed.

but then, another question seemingly whispered in kate’s ears.

“then, do ya think it’s possible to go to the moon?”

it seemed like a simple question, and yet at the same time so vulnerable for a reason kate didn’t know of.

“yes,” she replied after a pause, “i do.”

“hah, ya sure know how to be a goody two shoes.”

but for the first time since she came to this mysterious world, she felt arms wrap around her back.

fin.

꒰ tag list . ꒱ @drachonia @weepinglycoris @velisle @candiedcoffeedrops @judesmoonbeauty @.comment to be added or removed!

[deliciousbasementtrash]

Playing Nurse for the Batfam

Artist: Norm Breyfogle

Summary: you are a nurse working for Gotham General Hospital. Batman is working tirelessly to find out who you are. What will you do when he finds you? What will he do?

Pairing: Slowburn Jason Todd x reader, (maybe a why choose with Dick Grayson as well?? Idk tell me what you guys want)

Warning: Adult language, breaking in and entering

Word Count: 1.4k

Note: These characters are not my own they belong to DC. The only character that is 'mine' is the reader. I am going to be as nondescript as possible for the reader as well for physical attributes. This is a continuation series; I’m not sure how long it will be. Also for some reason, my replies to comments are not showing up. I’m not ignoring your comments Tumblr won’t let me respond :( But please, please comment I live for it 

Part One Part Three

Part Two: Job Opportunity

“Master Bruce, do you think there is a possibility that this manhunt of yours may be born out of paranoia? Or perhaps an injury-induced delirium?” Alfred asked, as Bruce manically typed information into the Batcomputer. 

“That’s the problem, Alfred. There are no injuries. None. She healed me. She saw my face.” Bruce’s low voice rumbled. 

“Only you, Master Bruce, would consider a lack of injuries a problem,” Alfred sardonically stated. “Are you quite sure it was a woman?”

Bruce didn’t bother with a verbal response. He merely gave a curt nod. The sound of the elevator pinging and the door opening did not budge Bruce’s concentration from the computer. 

“Bruce, I’m back from Commissioner Gordon’s. The fingerprint is a dud. There are no matches in the criminal database,” Dick said, jumping into a rolly chair and sliding very loudly over toward Bruce. 

“That narrows it down, only about 25% of women in Gotham don’t have any form of criminal record,” Bruce muttered out loud. He didn’t particularly care if anyone heard. It moreso was for his train of thought. Bruce continued typing furiously, “I’ll check it against the other databases.”

Dick spun aggressively in his chair, “You got that fingerprint off your suit, right? What about the mask that was left?”

“The mask had been unused and freshly opened. There were some traces of fingerprints on that but my blood made them nearly impossible to ascertain,” Bruce said flatly. Bruce’s computer flashed with an oncoming message from Barbara. 

[The street cam footage was shaky, but I got a general description. She is about __ tall, with __ hair, and __ skin. It also appears that she is wearing a medical uniform that is issued for Gotham General Hospital. You’re welcome, Babs.]

Dick leaned so close to the computer that his and Bruce’s cheeks touched, “Wow I didn’t realize you brought in the big gun Babs. You want this girl found.”

Bruce tried not to smile at the ridiculous boy, “She saw my identity, Dick.”

Dick inhaled sharply through his teeth, “What are you going to do when you find her?”

A few ideas popped into Bruce’s mind, not all of them were legal. 

“He hasn’t got a clue, Master Dick,” Alfred said, spawning behind the two men, holding a silver tray with a bowl of Lucky Charms on it for Dick and a large black coffee for Bruce. 

“Thank you, Alfred,” Dick said, taking the cereal, “I mean she saved your life, Bruce. She hasn’t told anyone your identity,” Dick said, feeling the odd need to defend this girl he has never met. 

“She could just be selling the information to the highest bidder,” Bruce said, sharply taking a glug of coffee. 

Dick held back from rolling his eyes. He looked at the monitor and stared at the girl. “She saved your life when she didn’t have to. I don’t think she would ruin it on a whim. Not every person is out to get you, Bruce.”

And with that Dick and Alfred left Bruce alone in the Batcave. 

Bruce took another long sip of his coffee and continued his search. A small smile, barely a smirk lifted on his lips. 

It was a good thing that healthcare workers needed to get fingerprinted. 

He found her. Now all he needed was a solid plan. 

************************************************************************

“Y/n please girl. Please, please, please, please, please,” Sam begged jokingly with her hands together. 

“Nope! No! I am not taking another patient with bed bugs! I took the last one for you and I felt itchy for a week. Besides I have my hands full with an IICP and a stabbing,” I said, wagging my finger at my friend. 

“Gah fine! Wish me luck. I’m manifesting that I have rancid energy that repels beg bugs but is very welcoming and kind to patients.”

I laughed at her, “When you figure out that ratio please let me know, babe.”

The rest of the shift went by quickly, and mostly uneventful. I healed the head injury enough that no surgery would be required. I healed that stabbing enough that he could go home stable the next day. I healed a gunshot wound. A sick two-year-old with a fever. And so on. By the time I was walking out the back of my eyes burned and my back throbbed. I needed to do some stretching. Maybe take a long bath with some Epsom salt and a dirty romance novel. 

My walk home was uneventful. I was grateful to see my apartment. I wanted to shower, sleep, and cuddle Hashbrown. 

I turned the key to my apartment and stepped my leg in to block an anticipatory escape plan from Hashbrown. I scrunched my eyebrows in confusion when she did not greet me at the door. A sense of unease flooded my body and I rushed in.

“Hashbrown? Here kitty-kitty!” I yelled in my sing-song voice for her. The hairs on my neck stood up. Something about the energy in my home was different. It was charged. Slowly, I grabbed my pepper spray. With my other hand, I grabbed my phone. 

Out of the darkness, there was a twing of metal and my phone and pepper spray were on the ground. Quickly, I turned to run out the door. 

“I just want to talk,” a gruff voice said from the darkness. I fumbled my hand against the wall and flicked on the light. 

I tried not to laugh. 

Batman was in my living room, with my cat on his lap. Hashbrown, the traitor seemed completely enamored by him. Some guard cat she was. 

I walked casually to my kitchen, to my fridge. “Do you want anything to eat or drink, Batman? I have some leftover Thai food, some diet cherry vanilla coke, water, coffee, tea?” 

“None for me,” he said, his voice seemingly lower by the second. 

After my dinner was assembled I joined him on the couch. I faced across from him. “What do you want to talk about? And why the fuck did you feel like it was okay to break into my apartment?”

“You’re bold. Is it a front to hide your fear of me?” He asked as Hashbrown nuzzled against his sharp chin. 

I looked at him, almost annoyed, “Should I be afraid, Bruce?” 

“I guess that depends on your answer,” Bruce said, intentionally not finishing his statement. 

“If you want an answer you need to ask me a question,” my tone was sharp. My anger was surging. I just got off a thirteen-hour shift of a four-day stretch. I just wanted to eat, shower, and go to bed. But this oversized emo chicken was interrupting that. 

“What would you do if the world knew about your healing powers?” He asked, and my heart stopped. 

“What would you do if the world knew your identity, Bruce Wayne?” I practically hissed the last part. How dare he break into my apartment, pet my cat, and threaten me? 

“It would be the end of the Batman,” Bruce said.

I looked him dead in the eyes. I held no fear. I just showed him my true exhaustion. “If you’re worried about me telling anyone, I won’t. Call it personal morals or call it fucking HIPPA I don’t care. I’m not going to tell because you were my patient and I cared for you. End of story. Now get out of my house.”

“Would you like to work for me and my family?”

The offer caught me so off guard I almost got whiplash from it. “Excuse me?”

“You would be a permanent first responder that lived in the Wayne Manor full time. Full benefits. A salary ten times what you are making now. You will need to sign an employment contract and an NDA. Your cat of course can also live at the manor. Your services will just need to be available 24/7.”

My mind whirled, “Give me a week to think about it. Write a draft proposal and give it to me as soon as possible. To be frank, I do feel like this is a form of manipulation. You want to hold power over me by being my employer and having me sign an NDA. You want to keep a close eye on me so that you know what I’m doing, who I’m talking to, and what I’m saying. You do not trust that I will simply not say anything out of my own morality.” 

I saw a ghost of a smile on his face, “You’re smart. You will fit in well. I will have the draft in your mailbox by tomorrow. Goodnight, Miss Y/l/n.”

Before I could say anything, he was out the window and vanished into the night. 

“What the fuck, Hashbrown?” I yelled, scooping her up. “What am I going to do?”