#a problem to fix that isn’t Him. haha!

[rangerdoubt]

scarlet hollow and its strange and terrible parental figures will always be so so so dear to me

[tinystarbites]

accidents | Spencer Reid x Reader

Summary: during a long case away, Spencer accidentally sees Reader's nudes on her phone and can't cope because he is a MESS for reader whoops [5.5k]

Warnings: SMUT MDNI, 18+ only, fem!reader, fluff, some angst mainly Spencer doubting himself aww :(, Spencer is PINING for you hard (haha get it), nudes, Spencer loves you so much, pls someone give him a hug, m!masturbation, talk about sex, proofread but prolly not perfect lol, like you aren't probably ready for the amount of longing in this, *slaps Spencer* this bad boy can fit so much pining and yearning

read pt.II here

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Spencer swears it was an accident.

You were all away on a case, somewhere in Florida. And of course, something like that can only happen in Florida, because as much as he dislikes connecting random events with random locations, non-sequitur fallacy and all that, he cannot not say that many of his most embarrassing moments aren’t attributable to the south-eastern state. (He will not elaborate on these moments, he very much likes to keep most of his dignity still intact, thank you very much.)

But his dignity isn’t really the only thing that had been shattered to pieces by… by the accident. Far from it really and it- well, it- God, this really won’t end well for him, will it? He’s well and truly, as Emily likes to say, fucked.

It happened on the fourth day he and the team were cooped up in a small, dingy police station, chasing down an unsub that liked to paint intricate body art on the victim’s corpses as part of his MO. Aside from, y’know, slitting their throats with what seemed to be an old, rusty saw. The paradoxical duality of these two aspects, of the interplay of carefulness and diligence put into the painting process and the absolute careless way the unsub ends his victims was fascinating really – but not as much as it is disturbing, still.

Thus, this case is a very photography-heavy one. Most of the cases they solve involve photographs of some kinds of course, but Spencer has never sat in front of quite as many pictures of art and gore in his life before. It was strange, to say the least, even to him. Strange and annoying, to be honest.

Because Spencer isn’t exactly fond of all things that come with some electrical inner life, i.e. smartphones, his old brick of a phone isn’t exactly helpful for this case. He still feels the need to roll his eyes at Garcia after she, for the umpteenth time, called him an old grandpa and his phone a potato trying to pass as a phone. And failing miserably, especially when looking at the pictures it takes and their quality. Well, Penelope would say “pictures”, because she would also say that a resolution of beneath 60 PPI should be considered a war crime against modern technology, but Spencer doesn’t know and doesn’t want to know what that even means, so. Jokes on her.

Well, actually, the joke is on him. And yes, he knows, the joke is almost always on him, he knows his pipe-cleaner physique and too big eyes and long hair and everything about him really, makes him the perfect target for the occasional bullying he gets still as an adult, but he’s used to that. It’s normal, part of his everyday life. He can deal with that (more or less).

What he so brilliantly cannot deal with however, is having you around him almost 24/7. Because Hotch had had the amazing idea of fixing you to his hip as his personal photographer to circumvent his technological potato-problem. Uh- not that you, that you take pictures of him, why would you ever do that, but more like, taking pictures for him. Of their victims. And the body art.

Spencer was actually waiting for your protest, because there seems to be nothing worse for you than to stay inside the office when you could be out there, on the fields, in midst of all the action. Where Spencer usually isn’t. But that’s fine of course. Completely, absolutely fine. Spencer doesn’t look up every time the door to the tiny room he’s set up his camp in opens to see if it’s you bringing him another coffee just the way he likes, if it’s your smile that will make him feel more energized than any overly sweet coffee ever could. If it’s your voice and smell and aura (Penelope is definitely getting into his head) that for the short while you are there, makes everything seem so much more manageable.

It’s an energy burst unlike any other and Spencer is aware of what that means, so aware his body burns with it sometimes… Often. Okay, fine, most of the time. He just prefers to ignore it and enjoy the precarious friendship he built with you for what it is because he just likes to have you around so very much and – this was so not the point he wanted to make. He’s hopeless, when it comes to you, and it really is kind of embarrassing.

So, this is why the joke is so entirely on him that it’s not even a joke anymore. It’s basically bullying, he feels bullied. Because you actually had beamed the prettiest smile he’s ever seen at him, said ‘Oh finally, I can unpack all the dark hidden talents from within me’ which was so cryptic but so you and then you also winked at him. And well, Spencer has to lie if he were to say that he was being totally normal about this. That you didn’t just upheave his insides like an earthquake of magnitude eight with a single wink. Oh, he’s in so much trouble.

The first two days the two of you work side by side proceed without any unforeseen occurrences. And Spencer is so glad about that he could cry. From the moment you had joined the team two years ago, from the moment he met you, it was an undeniable fact that you were nice. Not only that, but truly, selflessly kind in a way that has left him all too choked up to even speak on multiple occasions now. The team is nice to Spencer, of course they are, they’re his family. But nothing in the entire world could have adequately prepared him to the spring of kindness you so freely distribute to anyone willing to receive it. And god, Spencer is willing. Is it every time you listen to him ramble on and on, unable to really hold his tongue despite the embarrassment clouding his cheeks darker. Is it every time you ask him about the book he’s reading, every time you ask him how his mother is doing and just- all these tiny things that add up and completely smush his brain into a fuzzy mess of warmth that leaks down his body.

He literally could spend every minute of every day just sitting next to you and soak up your presence and he would be the happiest person alive. That’s why he cherishes your friendship to him so strongly, and that’s why it’s the worst thing that Spencer is, well, himself.

He knows that you would probably be too nice to outright state that something he does unsettles you. Changes the way you think about him. Still. There is the worry. Buried so deep in his mind it’s as if he was born with it. And that’s why he’s so relieved that he is keeping the worst of the ‘Reid effect’ at bay while working with you on this twisted painter case.

It all goes well, until it doesn’t. Of course. Good things never seem to last for Spencer.

It’s already later in the afternoon on the fourth day you are working the case, no end in sight, unfortunately. Spencer is bend over the table, hands entwined in front of his mouth as he’s staring down the printed pictures of the unsub’s latest victim from three days ago. The brushstrokes seem remarkably stable, the colours uncannily vibrant. Spencer does not know much about art, but he does recognise talent when he sees it. And this unsub seems to have it in abundance. It’s almost a shame he’s a deranged killer. But oh well.

He jumps in his seat when the door to his room abruptly bangs open and a dishevelled looking you is bustling into the room.

Your expression turns apologetic. “Oh Spencer, shit, sorry. I didn’t wanna startle you, but they just found another victim.”

And oh. Spencer feels his heart sink in his chest. Guilt tugging it further down into the abyss. Why wasn’t he faster with figuring out these paintings?

“Really? Where?”

You immediately launch into a rapid-fire list of details, all in the wrong order because you do tend to be a bit all over the place. Spencer doesn’t mind. Gives him a bit more of a challenge to order the information in his brain the way it works for him. You two work surprisingly well in that regard.

While talking, you round the desk that almost takes up all the little space available in the room. You sit in the chair next to him, so close he can feel the stressed warmth radiating from you and it takes a very good portion of his brain’s capacity to stop his hand from reaching out. Or do something else even stupider. More stupid? Oh hell. It’s a wonder he can talk in complete sentences with you.

He watches you pull out your phone, fingers typing in the passcode he guessed right after two weeks of knowing you. The indignant expression on your face had been adorable. That’s why he still guesses your new passwords weekly, just to mess with you a little bit. Because he’s apparently insane like that.

“Here”, you turn the display of your phone towards him, “Precinct’s out of ink. Do you mind looking at the pictures on my phone until I come back from the store?”

This is where Spencer should have said no. Declined politely, smile on his face. Tell you that sorry, I don’t really get the same detail on screen like on a printed version. Should’ve emigrated to Tristan da Cunha, change his name to Ferdinand. Whatever. Anything, except say, “Oh, of course. That’s no trouble.”

You smile that breathtaking smile of yours, fingers touching his slightly while giving him your phone. Spencer sucks his lower lip between his teeth to keep himself from making any kind of noise at the tingly feeling skittering down his back.

He can’t not smile back at you. It’s one of his many weaknesses. Jello, trying to out-solve himself every day with New York Times’ new crossword puzzles, dairy. Halloween themed socks. Old obscure movies no one has ever heard of. Reading the most difficult books in twenty minutes. You.

Once you left, Spencer starts diligently going through the photographs of their latest victim. Not yet identified white male. Average height, average weight. Short-buzzed sandy brown hair. Striking blue eyes that seem to stare at him accusingly even after death.

He works through approximately forty pictures taken off the intricate and detailed body art. This time, the unsub left many smaller paintings woven in a bigger, overall painting. There’s still one that Spencer hasn’t seen a close up of, that’s kind of hidden behind the victim’s ears. Maybe you saved it to a different folder. He clicks around your gallery for some time, opening and closing folders full of holiday pictures. Pictures of you, smiling, at the beach. A folder full of memes that he doesn’t get but is familiar with because you keep sending them to him anyways. Spencer is aware that he probably shouldn’t have just- perused your gallery like that. But he was in case-mode. Hyper-focused on finding the next clue, on detangling the next hint that would bring them further. That would finally be the key to end this case and bring justice to all the victims.

He isn’t really thinking, when he clicks on a folder titled ‘xxx lol’. Thinks it’s another one full of memes because of the abbreviation, but maybe you accidentally saved pictures of the case in there, wouldn’t be too out of character for you and-

Spencer sucks in a breath.

Drops your phone almost as an afterthought. The noise of it clattering to the table makes him flinch.

It lands display down. Small mercies and all that.

And Spencer is- he is-

… That was not-

Not -

There’s a weird buzzy feeling in his limbs, his chest and head. Like his blood turned into a swarm of bees. He feels like someone dumped a bucket of ice over his head and like he’s on fire simultaneously.

Okay. Okay.

That was not- pictures of the case.

Definitely not.

Oh Jesus Christ.

Spencer was definitely not supposed to see. That. Not supposed to see you- like that. Ever.

His heart is totally beating itself into a frenzy. There are at least two litres of blood rushing to his head. The other four are gathering somewhere down down down and oh. Oh shit.

Spencer is actually fucked. More than that. He wants to get fucked and that’s. Just. Even worse.

He wants to scream.

He ends up biting his knuckles and letting out a frustrated noise against his fingers.

Did he really.

Did he really just see your nudes?

(And yes, he knows that word. Penelope is a bad influence on him.)

His head is kind of a- a mess. More than usual when you are around. And… what. What does he do now? He can’t just- can’t just leave your phone like that. You’d obviously see what he was looking at and that’s just- unacceptable.

But the other option appears just as preposterous. Because, because, he’d have to look at your phone again. At you, like that, again. To get out of ‘xxx lol’. Damn you. Why did you have to be so unserious and name your, uhm, very personal folder like that? And no password-block?

Spencer feels a different kind of warmth enveloping him because it’s just- so you, silly and funny and kind of unbelievable and Spencer is so deeply in love with you that he feels like he’s going crazy with it. Of course, you’d be like that about stuff like that as well. Spencer would give everything to just once experience what it’d feel like to kiss you. To feel your lips twisted in a silly smile against his, flicking a finger at his ear because you would. Do that. When kissing someone. And okay. Okay. Spencer needs to get his shit together, like, yesterday.

You could come back any second now, actually and fuck. He needs to close the gallery app on your phone, asap.

His hands are trembling as they retrieve your phone from the table.

He allows himself a deep breath. And then. With eyes squeezed almost close, he taps the return arrow. Well, tries to. He thinks he managed to escape your nudes-folder without any hiccups but well.

Spencer is freaking inept with technology.

So. He finds himself looking at another picture of you and god, it actually might kill him.

It’s inappropriate. So so so so inappropriate. You would kill him dead if you ever knew Spencer was ogling your pictures like that. Like a perverted stalker.

But. But.

There shouldn’t even be a ‘but’.

But.

You’re just. You’re just- You’re incredible. Not even in a sexual way, just-

You’re so beautiful it hurts.

And call Spencer selfish, a pervert, whatever. Because he knows, okay? But he also knows that he’d never, ever get to see you like that. And it hurts in a different way now, because Spencer just wants. Wants you so much. You and you, just you.

But…he’d never get to have you. Which is fine, of course. Having you as a friend is actually one of the best things that ever happened to him, and he’d never do anything to endanger that-

…Well. He’s not perfect. So, sue him, for only once, giving into his deepest darkest desires. He’s only human. And pathetically in love with you. And attracted to you. Oh, he wants to be with you so badly. Wants to- wants to get kissed and held by you. Wants to make love with you, which just. Sounds so dumb and cliche. But maybe he just is that for you.

Still. He shouldn’t think how absolutely breathtaking you look, sprawled across the white linen of presumably your bed. He knew you worked out regularly, but. Spencer feels hot all over when he thinks how easily you could just. Manhandle him around. To wherever you wanted him. And this is something he apparently likes. (He consciously stores that information away for later. Later.)

He shouldn’t think how you would tease him, how you would make him beg for you before he’d even taken off his clothes. He would. He would beg for you, go on his knees. Everything, everything.

He shouldn’t think how warm and safe you’d make him feel, even after knowing he’s inexperienced in everything. You’d take his face in your hands, smile at him so beautifully he’d cry. Tell that ugly internalized shame to go ‘fuck off to Jupiter’.

Oh, he shouldn’t be looking at you like this. He shouldn’t, shouldn’t, shouldn’t.

But there’s always so much he shouldn’t do. Friends shouldn’t think of other friends like that. Friends don’t imagine how it would feel to be taken apart and put together again by their friend. Friends shouldn’t want to touch, touch, touch-

Maybe, for once, he just. Has enough of that. Maybe, he could just. Indulge. For a minute. To know what it’d be like. Just. A little.

To know what it’d be like if this picture was meant for him. What it’d be like- Be like to see you. And for you to see him. Like that. What it’d feel like to crawl into your lap, bury his face in your neck. Set his teeth on the gentle skin there and hear you gasp for him. How you’d bury your hands in his hair, and he’d make the most miserable noises until you pulled and-

Something in the corner of his eyes catches his attention and- shit.

Shit shit shit shit shit shit shit.

That’s you. Walking towards the door.

His hands are shaking so badly he has difficulties navigating your phone. But thankfully, this time, he manages to leave ‘xxx lol’ and find his way back to the evidence folder.

Oh god.

Oh god.

Did he actually- He actually-

The door springs open. Spencer startles kind of violently.

(Oh god.)

You have a big grin on your face. Some magenta ink smutched across your left cheek. And Spencer knows what you look like without-

“Heya, Spence, you won’t believe what just happened-“

(Oh god.)

“Uh… you okay there?”

His face feels like it’s on fire. His heartbeat is spiking and, well. He’s never been quite this turned on his entire life. He feels himself hard and aching against his trousers and Spencer wants you to push him down on the table and-

Oh god oh god oh god oh god oh god-

He needs to- leave. Right now.

“Fine”, he squeaks, voice all over the place and he cringes, “Just-“

He wags his hands around in a very confusing, general manner. Grabs some photographs.

“I need to- Need to. Bathroom”, is all he somehow manages, photographs surely placed in front of his, ahhhh, problem.

You look at him as if he lost his mind. He probably has.  “Oh-kay? Then… go?”

Spencer goes.

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Spencer can’t stop thinking about those pictures.

He’d known it would come to this. Him, lying wide awake on the uncomfortable hotel bed.

Having an eidetic memory has never felt more like a curse to him as now.

He buries his head further into the pillow. Fingers digging into it. Pulling his legs closer to him and, ah. That. Probably wasn’t the greatest idea of his.

He’s still- turned on. Uncomfortably so.But just thinking of taking care of that. Well. He’s 100% sure that that’s not the way to go about forgetting these pictures.

Also, it’s bad enough already that he even saw them. It would be so much creepier to jerk himself off to them. To you. His best friend. But- ugh.

It’s always kind of uncomfy for him to be away on a case. He prefers his own four walls over anything else, kind of, except maybe the university library. And now, being sexually frustrated away on a case that requires even more focus than other cases do?

Oh, Spencer is so fucked.

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You notice that something is off with him. It really would have been a miracle if not, because then Spencer would’ve had to question your profiling skills. But even then- he doesn’t think that you’d even need to have these skills to notice him acting off.

Because Spencer is so not the person to play incidents like that cool. He is painfully aware of that, thank you very much.

So, the next day, when you came to say hi to him (“Hey there, Mr. Doctor.”), after he basically ran off the day before, and you, as always, casually put your hand on his shoulder, Spencer, he-

He spit out his coffee.

He could feel you freeze through the hand on his shoulder. Your expression would’ve been comical if Spencer wasn’t dying.

“Uhh… Do you… Do you need a moment?”

Well, that was a freaking understatement. Spencer needs not a moment but all of them to try to get his act together.

…which he didn’t. Not for the rest of that day, and also not for the day after. And the day after. This case apparently will never end. Fucking Florida.

You, of course being the kind soul you are, tried talking to him.

(“Spencer, are you okay? You’ve been acting kinda-“

“What? What do you mean? I’m fine, completely.”

“Uhm… Sure. If you wanna talk about it, you got my number.”)

And well. Spencer feels like he is going insane.

It’s come down to him not being able to spend more than thirty minutes uninterrupted in your vicinity without getting semi-hard, because he knows. Without him almost doing something stupid and drop to his knees then and there and beg you to either forgive him or to please let him eat you out.

Ah, yes, because apart from being so frustrated he could scream, he’s also feeling so guilty it’s slowly killing him.

There you are, still being his absolute favourite person on the planet, unaware of what kind of person you are laughing with. Of what Spencer did. It was an accident yes, but- He should’ve said something. Maybe warned you so that it would not happen again. Ugh, but the more time passes the worse it gets. The more impossible it feels to just- go to you and say ‘ah, uhm, by the way, I saw your nudes and maybe you should put those behind a password block’.

Spencer is just- the worst friend. What friend doesn’t give their friend a heads-up about something like that? He’ so, hopeless, incompetent, and he gets it now why he didn’t have that many friends in school. 

It’s gotten so bad so quickly that the others started noticing too, obviously. It really is a curse working with profilers. Spencer should reconsider his move to Tristan da Cunha.

“What’s got pretty boy so worked up, huh?”, Morgan asked him on the day after the incident.

“Did something happen, Spence?”, JJ pulled him aside on the second day after.

“Are they cancelling Doctor Who?”, Emily, on the first day after.

“Kid, you need to eat something”, as Rossi pressed a protein bar into his hands.

Even Penelope texted him.

is it what i think it is? ;))))))

He did not dignify her with an answer.

When Hotch comes to him on the evening on the second day after, Spencer is a mess. He’s practically spent the entire day in some state of fluster. He noticed he’s trailing off when he’s info-dumping. That he’s just- staring off into space more often than he usually does. That he can’t talk to you properly without stuttering, that he avoids looking you in the eyes. So, it really was only a matter of time until their unit chief would scold him. Or whatever Hotch is here to do.

“Listen, Reid”, he says, tone of voice a little too similar to when he is talking to Jack when he did something mildly inconvenient, “whatever it is, and I don’t want to know unless it’s something bad, deal with it. We need you with a clear head here, okay?”

And well, that could’ve gone a lot worse.

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He still thinks so once he falls into bed that evening. But now-

Deal with it.

How? How should he deal with that? It’s not like he can just press the ‘Delete’-button in his memories. Thanks for nothing, Hotch.

His eyes strain from staring at the ceiling in the dark. Closing them doesn’t really help because all he’d see is you. He’s such a mess.

A pining, pathetic loser mess and he’s so hard again he can’t properly think. It’s just- Spencer has had rather inappropriate thoughts about you before. Has actually spent way too many hours in his apartment just lazing around, thoughts occupied on all the countless ways he’d like you to make him lose his goddamn mind. It had been kind of an accident (isn’t that just the story of his life), the first time it happened.

Spencer had almost been finished with his report, he’d just needed an additional detail from you to finish up. He’d asked Morgan where you were, and this is how he found himself walking down the corridor to Penelope’s ‘Dungeon’. Which, he’d never say out loud because that’s just ridiculous, right?

He saw the door to her office was slightly ajar, a mix of yellowish-red light splitting the hallway in half where it spilled out of the open gap.

There’s a giggle coming from inside the room and Spencer smiles- can’t help it really, because your laugh is just so absolutely ridiculous, a kind of high-pitched screech that ends in airy laughter and he’s so obsessed with it he wants to engrave it on a CD to listen to it again and again.

“No way, gorgeous, I don’t believe that”, Penelope whisper-giggled.

Spencer didn’t realize his steps slowed down, too curious by what you two could be talking about. And also, kind of forgetting that you shouldn’t just listen to other people’s conversations like that.

“Oh yes”, your voice was low, and Spencer would be lying if he said it didn’t send a tingle along his spine, “He broke up with me, but he came crawling back to me not even two months later because I apparently ‘ruined him’ for anyone else.”

Ruined him? What did you mean?

Both Penelope and you were laughing now, louder than before.

“You really, really gotta teach me your devious ways, buttercup.”

You snicker. “I guess it all boils down to making them come so hard they cry and forget their own name, really.”

Spencer didn’t get the detail he needed from you that day.

He’d gotten something much worse and that was curious. From the limited sexual encounters he’s had in his life before (a rushed hand-job somewhen in university in a toilet cubicle by that one other student he was into back then) he couldn’t really imagine something like sexual gratification that made one cry. Sure, getting himself off felt good. Sure, that orgasm had been fine. But… it could feel better?

He kind of didn’t think of that before.

So, when flustered-he had returned to his apartment after that overheard conversation, he kind of… thought about what these things could be that you did, to make others feel so good they lose the basic functions of their memory.

And the rest is basically history.

Of course, he’d never touched himself while doing… research about your techniques. It just felt- wrong. You are his friend and despite of his crush on you, it didn’t feel right.

But now…

He really really shouldn’t. But, he’s just so- desperate. For you and for things to go back to how they were. Without him almost bursting at the seams each time you look at him because before, he never had any problems with categorizing his mind like he does now.

So maybe… Maybe he can just… Do it once? Real quick, to get it out of his system?

The longer Spencer turns the thought in his head, the more… it seems like a good idea. You’d never know. Spencer could forget about- about the accident and move on. Solve the case and finally leave cursed Florida behind. If he just does it this one time, it’s not that bad right?

The fuzzy pleasure that shoots up his spine when he finally, finally presses his hand against himself through his pyjama pants answers him. Yes, yes, it says and more more more-

Spencer has never been good in denying himself things that make him feel good, better than good, things that make him forget about any pain that has nestled inside of his body or mind. Right now, that thing is you. Oh, perfect beautiful lovely you. He can’t stop the way his lips twitch into a smile, almost shy, even though he’s alone. But something about you just- 

He gasps, back arching a little when he slides the palm of his hand along himself, still through two layers of fabric.

Something about you just- god, how can he put this into words- something about you just makes him feel- safe. Seen. Taken care of. And it’s just, so foreign to him. Strange. He’s always been looking after himself. After dad left and mom-

He’s kind of addicted to it. To the way you make him feel. Spencer can’t get enough of it, can’t get enough of you. Never never enough.

His fingers trail circles around the head of his cock, light and unhurried, enjoying the shivers of good good amazing it sends through his limbs, to his fingertips. Spencer can feel the tension leaking out of him, can feel his muscles relax and his mind become hazy. He should do this more often, god he always forgets how good it is, it feels.

He almost forgets why he decided to get off right now. It had something to do with you. You. Naked and there, here with Spencer. He whines a little because you aren’t here, why aren’t you here he wants that so badly-

But all he has is the crystal-clear mental snapshot of your nudes. Spencer doesn’t remember ever remembering something with such clarity before. He feels kind of embarrassed by that, how obviously desperate he is for you. How he would do everything for you, with you. But this feels so good that he doesn’t care about any kind of embarrassment or shame that might trigger his self-loathing.

He increases the pressure of his palm slightly, oh god oh oh, it’s so good already and Spencer hasn’t even touched yet, not properly at least, but oh. Oh, he wants moremoremore-

It’s so easy letting his thoughts tangle, mixing old and new. Fantasies and reality. The you from the pictures merges with the you from his daydreams and oh shit. Oh fuck.

Spencer moans, high and needy at the back of his throat and god how are you so beautiful?

Imagined-you has absolutely nothing on the real you. Spencer could have never himself come up with you because he just lacks the imaginative capabilities to conjure the absolute vision you are. The vision you portray on those freaking pictures that have branded themselves into his very neurons. He’s sure, absolutely sure, that he will never get over them. Over you. Doesn’t even really want to.

Because he is quite certain that the sight of you, your stomach your thighs your arms your tits your- oh he forgot where he was going with this.

By now, Spencer’s hand has dipped beneath his pyjamas and beneath his boxers and he moans again, his lips pulled between his teeth and eyes shut because the feeling of good good better more almost peaks when he grabs himself, finally.

His right hand starts an even, slow pace along his cock because if he is only ever doing this once, he is going to make most of it.

It doesn’t take long for him to get close, though. He’s been so wound up the last few days, it really is no surprise. It’s actually more surprising he hasn’t come all over himself already.

Soft, keening noises are continuously spilling from between his lips, hips moving together with his hand because he just can’t help himself. The heat in his abdomen is building and building and he whimpers because he wants it to be you so so badly, his thoughts are a mess, he is a mess and he wishes he could be your mess, yours, yours to make a mess of and oh god he’s going to-

A knock. On his door.

He freezes, blood rushing loud in his ears, heart pounding and his cock hot in his hand and begging him to not stop but-

“Spencer? It’s me, can you let me in?”

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pt. II? 👀

[joelsbloodyhands]

Man vs. Bear

Millionaire!Joel Miller x Reader

Summary: Joel does everything in his power to get back something of sentimental value to you that your ex discarded like it was nothing.

Warnings: no outbreak, discussions of emotionally @bus!ve ex, mentions of types of emotional/psychological domestic @buse, mentions of controllative ex, mentions of smoking and alcohol, crying, reader is sad but Joel is gonna fix everything, protective!Joel, vengeful!Joel, mentions of blood, physical harm (haha guess who that’s for, hint read the first warning), fluff, reader has gender neutral pronouns, reader has no visible disabilities, Ellie and Sarah are 7 & 8 in this, if you don’t like adults with plushies get the hell off my blog ⛔️ we all protect our inner child here.

Dividers by @uzmacchiato 🧸

“Why are you crying, sweetheart?” Joel turns the corner to your bedroom and sees you sitting there on the edge of the bed, face in your hands and your head shaking when you turn from him.

You had just returned home when he called.

Your new apartment getting some used to.

Joel had been a friend of yours for a while.

Quite often, your own work collaborated with his company and through a mutual friend, Frank, you started a more friendly relationship.

Simply platonic, nothing more.

Or so you thought.

“Darlin?”

Joel sits next to you carefully, not wanting to intrude in your moment of emotion. He knows you well enough to know you don’t normally cry in front of people, usually feeling uncomfortable with the idea of expressing your outbursts publicly for fear of being coddled.

“What happened? Did that asshole give you back all your stuff?”

“I guess,” you sniffle, eyes red and lips puffy.

Joel’s eyebrows furrow, his heart pacing.

I guess isn’t good enough for him.

Joel doesn’t like working without absolutes. Either that asshole gave you everything you had and everything that belongs to you rightfully or there was going to be a problem.

“What’s missing?” Joel eyes the boxes scattered around your bedroom, one with books half pulled out and stacked half-hazardly by your bedside table.

You’re silent, your eyes distant and welling with tears.

“It’s stupid,” you harshly rub a sleeve against your face causing Joel to wince and take your hand in his own.

You look down at your small palm engulfed by his large warm fingers, rubbing soothing circles into your wrist. You lift your gaze and meet soft brown eyes, searching your own blurred vision like he was ready to travel to the underworld to take the tears away.

“It can’t be stupid if you’re so upset, honey,” Joel says, his voice low and gentle.

Your face is hot but at this point you’re not sure if it’s from how long you’ve been crying or the fact you can’t stop thinking about Joel’s calloused fingers grazing your skin.

You look away from him, deliberating telling him and ultimately you do with the thoughts that at this point it can’t hurt. There’s nothing that can be done about it now anyway.

“When I um, when I went back to the house, I went to our- his room and I used to have well, my childhood plushies on my side of the bed but…” you drop your gaze, the lines between your brows tightening.

Joel has seen this look before.

You’re angry with yourself.

“I asked him where they were and he told me I took too long that he just threw them away along with some of my other things!” Your voice gets louder with the growing anger you’re feeling and Joel gets it, his own teeth are grinding behind the thin line of his lips as he listens.

“Did he say exactly where he “threw” them?” Joel asks, his brain already scheming.

“Not at first,” you huff, “but then I picked up a glass from the side table and threw it at him.”

Joel fights a smirk from his lips. Now is not the time to be visibly attracted to that.

“He said he might’ve thrown them in the garbage or he might’ve sent them to a thrift store. He wouldn’t tell me which. He’s such a prick, Joel,” your eyes are welling up again and Joel squeezes your hand, “he just stood there grinning like he was happy he’d found another way to break me.”

“No, baby,” Joel shakes his head, his eyes intent on you when you meet his gaze again, tears falling down your cheeks, “he hasn’t broken you and I’m gonna do everything I can to find them for you.”

You shake your head exasperated.

“Joel, fuck knows where they are. Knowing him he definitely threw them in the trash. They’ve probably been incinerated somewhere.”

You’re hiccuping now and Joel can’t handle it.

The pain on your face is too much to bare.

“My Grandmother got me those plushies when I was a baby. I’m such an idiot. I just got so caught up in getting out of that fucking apartment that I forgot the two most important things in there.”

You’re beating yourself up and Joel’s had enough.

“What do they look like?” He asks, his body itching to find out as much as possible, rush to another room and call every contact he knows to track them down.

“One is a brown wolf and the other is a panda bear. They’re really old. The panda is more blue and white because of how faded the black is and my wolf is a little skinny and has one leg shorter than the others. He needed new stuffing and I had to stitch his leg back on a few years back when the cotton wore away.”

Joel knows you’re rambling because of how sad you are, reminiscing about your childhood friends but he listens just like he always does. He doesn’t play around when it comes to what matters to you and the more you go on about the intricacies of your old soft pals, the more fuel Joel has to find them.

“I guess it doesn’t matter,” you let out a heavy breath, your fingers loose in his, “maybe I need to let them go. I’m only giving him what he wants by reacting like this.”

Joel squeezes your hand again and he wants to hold you, reassure you that he will find them at all costs, even if he has to have this bastard of an ex of yours kidnapped and interrogated to find out what he did with them. Down to every last detail.

But he lets you stand, watches you take slow breaths to steady yourself and start gathering the rest of your books in the open box in front of you to put them away.

Joel joins you, quietly requesting you guide him to stock your apartment with your treasures. Anything he can do to help and he will.

After all, he was also the one who found this apartment for you. Paid the full cost himself and linked the monthly bills to his account.

Not that you knew any of that of course.

As far as you were aware, this was one of Joel’s bachelor pads he was letting you occupy for as long as you needed.

He knew you wouldn’t move in otherwise if he offered to buy the place but you’d saw the ad online and showed it to Joel. He made up some lame story that it actually belonged to him and he was going to sell it but that you could live in it while he was waiting for a buyer.

Now he had you asking if there would be any showings that you needed to be aware of.

More lies.

However, Joel had a plan.

One that involved him confessing his feelings for you.

One that involved keeping you here, safe and supported regardless of whether you reciprocated his romantic feelings or not.

Friend or lover, he would take care of you.

That asshole had treat you like hell and Joel was glad to see you rid of him.

He wanted to give you the best. Everything you could ever desire and this would be a good starting point.

Come rain or shine, Joel would bring those childhood plushies back to you, no matter the effort or the cost.

“Joel, what the fuck is this?”

Joel rolls his eyes, a gruff response already huffing past his lips as he listens to his assistant, Tess mock the list she’s now reading through.

“Something for Sarah and Ellie?”

To be honest, he gets that Tess might think that and not that Joel thinks any which way of an adult having plushies, it would just make the request go ahead a lot easier if he complies.

“Sure,” he mutters, “for Sarah and Ellie.”

“Riggght,” Tess mumbles, her lips whispering each bullet point from the text Joel had sent earlier, “so what they lost a couple of their favourite toys and you’re trying to get them back? Bet you were the one who lost em in the first place-“ she laughs.

“Tess, focus,” Joel shakes his head, his brain doing overtime thinking about everything that needs to be done. “I need you to contact every garbage disposal unit in town and every thrift store with the description provided and tell them what we’re looking for.”

“Ookay,” Tess releases a heavy breath on the other end, “and what are you gonna do?”

Joel’s lips press into a fine line, relaxed with concentrated anger, “I’ve got something I need to handle and then I’ll join you once I’m done.”

“Noted,” Tess says, her tone taking on its more motivated edge, “I’ll get right on it.”

The apartment you lived in before was cheap and convenient but he knew you hated it.

It barely had any windows and the front window to the lobby was smashed in and covered over with mesh.

The street itself was busy and loud, a main route for the city traffic to come piling through. You never looked like you got a good nights sleep, forever seeming tired.

Joel knew all of this just from the outside.

Truth be told, that ex of yours never let a single one of your girlfriends in and Joel had an inkling that when your ex first heard of him, you probably lied and said he was married or dating one of the other girls.

He was an utter complete control freak.

Emotionally abusive.

Just the mention of another guys name and he would flip a switch.

Joel fucking despised him the minute he saw him.

He may have been good to you once. Your heart was too pure. You must have seen something that resembled sunshine once upon a time but whatever that was fizzled out as soon as your ex trapped you within these crumbling walls.

Joel grimaced at them now from the backseat of his car. His driver having pulled over and parked, now lingering silently from the front seat.

“We doing this or what?”

Joel turned his head towards the eager voice.

“This the place?” Tommy raised a brow, his head peering past Joel and through his window.

Tommy had invited himself along for more than just the car ride. He loved you just as much as Joel did and it irked him to know you’d spent almost five years cooped up with a complete prick.

Tommy was the first person to refer to you as family, confirming in Joel’s mind that he saw you the same way and then some.

“Yeah, this is it,” Joel responds, his eyes narrowing back to the side walk.

“How d’you wanna do this?” Tommy’s voice lowers and Joel has to bite back a grin at the uncaring way he feels about roughing up your ex in his own home.

Joel would make it hurt. Payback for all the years the little fucker had spent torturing you.

“I have some words to say to him first and then I’ll let you have at him,” Joel turns his head back to Tommy who nods satisfied.

If there was one thing Tommy was always good at, it was starting a fight. God only knows the amount of times Joel got called to the police station to bail him out. Only this time, his little brothers want for emotional release wouldn’t be wasted.

“Alright, let’s get it done,” Tommy steps out the car, slamming the door behind him.

“Go for a drive around the block and come back in thirty,” Joel instructs to his driver; a young twenty something whose family had worked for Joel for years.

“You got it, boss,” the kid replies and Joel steps out the car, looking up at the one rare window to the dark apartment above.

Joel’s heart pounds.

He told himself the drive here that he was doing this for you but it was just as much for himself too. He wouldn’t let another man walk all over you again. Whether Joel was breathing or not, he would make sure you were safe.

“Well?” Joel sits with his legs rested on his desk and his phone buried between his chin and shoulder.

Rolling tobacco between his fingers, he ignores the dried blood still present under his finger nails, too eager to know if Tess has made any progress.

“So far, nada but I’m waiting for some responses,” she replies and Joel’s eye twitches at the sound of Tess’s fingers click clacking on her keyboard on the other end.

He sighs, licking the paper of his cigarette and securing it.

You’d be frowning at him right now if you could see him.

He promised to quit and he’d reduced his smoking to almost a complete stand still but with all the excitement earlier, Joel needed to take the edge off before seeing you.

“This is important, Tess,” Joel puts the cigarette in his mouth and lights it, throwing the lighter across the table harshly and placing a finger on his temple.

He hears her scoff on the other end.

“Can you not just buy them new ones? Kids usually get over this sort of stuff. I mean how many toys do they have-“ Tess rambles.

“This is not something that can be replaced,” Joel sharply responds, his voice raised, silencing his assistant on the other end with a harsh tone.

He intakes a breath, steadying himself and flexing his fist on his thigh.

“Not everything can be replaced. I need them found and if they’re not found, it’s going to make someone- I mean Sarah and Ellie very unhappy and I can’t accept that,” Joel taps the ash from his cigarette as he speaks uneasily.

Tess is still silent a minute until she sighs through the phone and the noise in the background disappears, her voice coming in clearer.

“I understand, Joel. Give me a couple of hours and I swear I’ll find them.”

Joel smiles, smoke escaping past his lips.

“Thank you, Tess. I’ll await your call.”

He hangs up, leans his head back, taking another drag and blowing out smoke to the ceiling above.

He thinks of you and what happened earlier.

Unfortunately for your ex, Tommy had brought his lucky knuckle dusters.

When Tommy was done with him, Joel leered over the young man, his eyes taking no notice of the blood joining the other unknown stains in the carpet surrounding where your ex was splayed out.

The whole time your ex chanted about how he never hit you. That he never laid his fists on you, not once. Though physically hurting someone wasn’t the only way to torture a person and Joel knew you suffered every day you spent with this piece of shit.

Constant texts asking you where you were, an absurd amount of missed phone calls while you were trying to work. You left your phone at a technician once to remove a spy device that had been installed. You hadn’t said anything about where it might’ve come from because you already knew and when Joel found out, he knew too. It was no question. Constantly telling you what to wear, berating you for your choice of clothing, your makeup, your hair and the things you liked. He complained about your friends and got on edge every time he heard a masculine name being mentioned.

The little shit was clearly insecure as hell that you would leave him but that’s on him, not you. You don’t deserve to be at the end of his problems constantly being projected onto you.

And Joel told him all of this.

Joel told him how little of a man the fucker was and then let his brother beat him.

Three years of hurt reduced to one hour of abuse.

It didn’t feel like enough of a punishment but Joel would show him how it felt to really hurt. He would show him your pain translated into a fist being pummelled into his face repeatedly.

Tommy delivered.

Joel asked him about your plushies. The dumb kid said he’d sent them out in the trash after all.

He texted Tess immediately.

At least it would help take the focus away from anywhere else they might’ve ended up.

Joel told the brat that if he told anyone what happened, Joel would make sure he’d disappear in the night. That he would send someone to take him away and no one would ever find him again.

Thankfully, the bastard believed him and rightly so because Joel doesn’t just talk the talk. When he makes a promise, he sees it through.

The sound of Joel’s phone vibrating in his pocket woke him from his racing thoughts that the tobacco was failing to drown out.

Considering something a little stronger, he eyed the decanter of whiskey on his desk before skimming his eyes over your name on his phone screen.

He smiled and clicked answer, your voice like music to his ears.

You were more soothing than any substance Joel could ever partake in.

“Hey, darlin,” he greeted, voice soft just for you.

“Hey Joel,” you replied and he could hear the tiredness in your tone.

“You okay?” Joel asked, his brows furrowing wanting nothing more than for Tess to deliver good news so he could see you smile.

“Yeah, long day. I just wanted to hear your voice. Is that okay?”

Joel swore you had a way of melting his frozen heart. He had once thought only his daughters had that capability until you came along.

“Of course, baby.”

Little does he know your heart skips a beat at the pet name leaving his lips as it does every time he speaks to you.

“You still at work?” Joel stubs out his cigarette into an ashtray, quirking a brow at the sound of rustling papers in the background.

“Yeah,” you release a heavy breath, “just finishing up.”

Joel looks to the clock, reading 7:30pm. You were meant to clock out hours ago.

His face falls.

“Darlin, have you eaten today? You’ve had dinner, right?”

He hears you sigh and can picture you running a hand down your face.

You sound stressed.

“Not yet but I will just as soon as I get home, I promise.”

Joel meanwhile having put you on speaker phone finishes a text to his driver to wait outside for him.

“How about I come get you right now? We can go get dinner together. How does that sound?”

He hears you chuckle on the other end.

“Why did I have a feeling you would say something like that?” You’re smiling on the other end, cheeks practically hurting.

“Any excuse to see you, sweetheart,” Joel bites his inner gum, excited and eager to be with you. “How about sushi?”

“Takeout?” You ask in a nervous lilt.

Joel hums in confirmation, “Your place?”

“It’s still a little messy,” you say in small voice.

“Gotta christen it somehow, honey. First dinner in a new place,” Joel teases.

“Mm, it’s not new though. You’ve eaten dinner in there before, surely?” You’re puzzled on the other end.

Joel’s confused a minute before remembering what he had told you about the place being his.

“Oh yeah, of course but this is a first for you, right? It’ll help you settle in,” Joel grimaces.

“Yeah you’re right,” you nod on the other end and Joel releases a silent breath.

“Be there in five?” Joel’s already by the door, pulling on his overcoat.

“Can’t wait,” you say sweetly and Joel practically swoons, almost missing a step on the staircase as he ends the call with you.

“We got em, Joel.”

Joel doesn’t think he’s ever heard Tess sound so proud before in her life and she once had to practically organise a fucking ark to send some cattle to a farm he owned a few states over, after he bought them a couple years back.

Joel shoulders sag in relief, he pinches between his eyes with a toothy grin, “I fucking knew I could count on you, Tess. You got them with you?”

“Damn right. You weren’t kidding when you said they were old. They look a little worse for wear, Joel,” she cringes, looking over the dirty bears with concern.

Joel scans the office building they’ve pulled in front of, tapping a message to you to let him know he’s out front.

He keeps an eye on the door while he talks.

“How bad are they? Any tears? Any lost limbs?”

Tess laughs on the other end, loud too.

Joel meanwhile is as serious as if he was conducting a full debrief on a wounded soldier.

“Christ Joel, you’re talking about them like they’re real but nah mostly just need a good clean. One of them is barely a plush at all, hardly has any plump to it.”

Joel has no idea Tess is holding your wolf by its foot like it’s diseased, her face scowling at it.

“Yeah…actually if you could fix that I’d be grateful,” Joel thinks aloud, conscious he’s still waiting for you.

“Uhh…I’m not much of a textiles kind of gal but I’ll do my best. You want me to drop them off in a little bit once they’re ready?” Tess asks.

Joel’s eyes light up at the sight of you tugging the building door open, your eyes wincing at the heavy downpour of rain that’s just started.

“Yeah, but uh, shit, yeah I forgot. I need you to drop them off at this address.” Joel types your apartment address and sends it across in a text.

“You bought another place? Okay. No worries. I’ll be there.”

“Just leave them by the door and drop me a text. I want it be a surprise, ya know?” Joel smiles at you when you meet his eyes through the window, running to the opposite side to escape the rain.

“Sure, be there soon,” Tess confirms and hangs up.

Joel shoves his phone in his pocket and reaches his hand forward just as you’re buckling your seatbelt, moving wet hair from your forehead.

You beam at him, dimples creasing and sending Joel’s heart crashing against his rib cage.

“Hungry?” He manages, his hand seeking yours to squeeze it affectionately.

“Starving,” you squeeze his hand back.

Sushi went down a treat.

Even if you did scold Joel for trying to buy all your favourites with the excuse of stocking your fridge with leftovers.

To his surprise, you both ate on the bed, complaining that you needed comfort, already jumping into pyjamas and making Joel slip into a T-shirt and sweatpants to relax.

Joel encouraged you to talk about your day. Partially to keep the attention of the events of his own day but mostly because he needed to know every moment of your life when he wasn’t in it.

You were just in the middle of telling him a story about someone “accidentally” sending over twenty requests to print a kinky fan art of some fictional bounty hunter at work when, Joel felt his phone vibrate in his pocket.

He distracted you by presenting a plate of chocolate mochi from the kitchen and excusing himself towards the bathroom only to detour to the entryway, opening the front door to find a panda and a wolf sitting slouched against the wall.

Joel picked them up, becoming still a moment as he looked them over.

Tess had done a fine job.

They were clean and tidy. Your wolf had some fresh stitching from where it looked newly stuffed. A little blue bow stood out on the panda possibly a little improvement added by Tess.

He’d remember to send her a thank you present later.

“Joel?” You call for him and he turns and locks back up, walking back to your room with the plushies hidden behind his back.

When he enters your room again, you’re licking chocolate powder from your fingers looking at the way Joel’s arms are shielded behind his back. Your brows knit together curiously.

“What’s going on?” You ask, grabbing a napkin and wiping your hands while you stare up at him from where he stands in front of you.

He smiles and kneels down, making your eyes go wide.

Then he presents your lost friends and your eyes dart down to them in shock.

“Managed to get the gang back together again,” he smiles warmly at you and your hands tremble when you reach for them.

“Joel…”

He urges them into your arms when you hesitate to take them from him. Joel watches the tears crowding at your waterline.

“How?” You gasp, running shaky fingers over them, admiring the new touches and smiling at the renewed plumpness of your wolf.

Joel releases a heavy breath.

It seemed no better time to do this than right now.

After the day he’s had and the way you were on his mind every second of it, he needed you to know how he felt.

Joel places his hands on your knees and your eyes meet his.

“I would do anything for you. I hope you know that and if you didn’t,” he looks to the way you clutch your treasured childhood toys to your chest, “I hope that this proves that I will do anything to make you happy. I’d go to hell and back for you and repeat the process a thousand times over just to see you secure and safe.”

You blink back more tears meeting your jawline and running down towards the neckline of your shirt. Joel runs the back of his fingers up your neck gently and you let him.

You let him wipe the tears away.

“You matter to me in more ways than I ever know how to show sometimes but if you’d let me, darlin, I’d like to show you. I’d like to show you how much you mean to me,” Joel takes in a breath, “I’d like to show you how much I love you.”

“Joel…” you cry, your lips trembling, “but this is everything,” you shake your plushies against your chest, “you didn’t judge me and you- you got them back for me. If you didn’t love me, you wouldn’t do that.”

“There’s more that I could do,” Joel’s hands find your face, his body closer to yours now, crowding you at the edge of the bed.

“I want to be yours, baby and I want you to be mine.”

Your breath hitches, his thumbs soothing your hot skin.

“I want to give you everything and I already started. This apartment is yours. I bought it for you. I’m sorry I lied but I wanted you to have something that was completely yours and I had the means to give it to you.”

You smile, your eyes evading his as your cheeks flush. You had a feeling it was too good to be true. You had a feeling Joel may have never previously owned the building to begin with but it wouldn’t have surprised you if he did.

“When I saw how sad you were when you lost these,” he drops his hand from your face to pinch the ear of your panda plush, “I knew I could get them back for you and I knew I’d do anything to do it. I never want to keep the truth from you so I’ll be honest and say I even interrogated the little shit to find out exactly where they were.”

Your eyes widen with awe, “Joel, you-“

“I had to and I’d do it again. I’d do it a thousand times. I’d fight a fucking army, baby, I’d do it because I love-“

Your lips crash against Joels.

He’s so taken aback to start with until he feels your fingers moving through his hair and instinctively, his palms graze over your hips and press up against your lower back to keep you held against him as close and as tightly as possible.

You pull back, taking in the smitten flush across Joel’s face when he meets your eyes.

It seemed you had an ability to surprise him too.

“I love you too, Joel.”

A year later…

“And they never belonged to them to begin with?! How am I only finding this out now?!” Tess exclaims, downing another glass of red wine in a long gulp, her voice raising louder above the music being played.

You giggle and Joel rolls his eyes.

He eyes the rings on your fingers for the hundredth time that night.

He leans down and places a kiss against your temple.

Married.

And Joel is prepared to fight death to make sure you never part.

You giggle again and raise a brow at Joel, “what did you tell Tess?”

Joel looks towards the dance floor at your wedding reception finding the small tail of a blazer and a golden dress skirt weaving in and out of tables, laughter carrying over the sounds of feet dancing and two familiar soft animals clutched in their palms.

You follow his line of sight, laughter bubbling in your throat.

You meet his wink and grin, “well technically, it’s not a lie now anyway.”

[prettydaisygirl]

hi!!! i had an idea for a request where the reader and James are best friends and have a lot of tension (possibly roommates?) and one especially cold night the heater breaks and James offers to basically be her personal heater if she needs and she finally caves and gets in bed with him. idk if that makes sense!! i love your writing btw 🩷🩷

hi nonnie! this didn't end up being super suggestive but james is really flirty so I hope that is good haha. hope you're having a great day, enjoy! <3

bestfriend!James Potter x fem!reader who ends up in his bed ✿ 745 words

cw: orphan!James, fem!reader, reader is stubborn, james is flirty

james potter masterlist

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You’re ignoring the way James sends you a smirk every time you shiver. You tug your blanket closer, gritting your teeth in the hopes to silence their chattering. The fireplace crackles in front of you, but it doesn’t do much to warm your trembling body. 

You and James are sitting in the living room of his family’s cabin, which now solely belongs to him. The two of you haven’t been here for many years, but after the passing of his parents several months ago, James asked if you wanted to come on a trip with him.

“Just like when we were little,” James had said, and then, “You can sleep in my bed just like you did back then too.”

You’d smacked him on the back of the head, but told him you’d start packing. And now, here you are. The only problem is, James hadn’t thought to have the heater checked out before you two arrived. As fate would have it, the thing goes out during dinner on your first night. 

Now, the sun has fully set, the wind is howling outside, and the cold creeps into your bones despite the extra shirt you have on and the two blankets you’re wrapped in. You send James a glare when he has the audacity to scooch closer to you on the couch. He sends you a wink and you stick your tongue out at him.

“Come on,” James says, wiggling his eyebrows and nudging you with his shoulder, “You know you wanna come sleep in bed with me.”

You shove him away with your elbow, your whole body moving as your cocoon is disturbed. “I don’t wanna sleep with you, weirdo.”

“I never said you wanted to sleep with me,” James corrects, and ruffles your hair which has you shouting out a ‘hey!’ before he continues, “I said sleep in bed with me.”

“Same thing,” You argue, reaching one hand out of your (slightly) warm blanket layer to fix your hair. “Either way, it’s not happening.”

James scoffs dramatically and stands up from the couch. “Don’t come crying to me when your bedroom is too cold and you need someone big and strong and devilishly handsome to warm you up.” He sends you a wink and a finger gun, purposely flexing his muscles as he walks into his room. You shake your head and scoff at his ridiculousness, hoping you won’t really get too cold on your own in your bedroom. 

Of course, you’re wrong.

You’re curled up as tight as you can be under the blanket. You’re wearing every piece of clothing that you brought that is remotely soft, you have your two blankets, and you’ve burrowed yourself as far into the mattress as you can go. It’s still not enough. 

You’ve never been cold like this. It’s the kind of cold that has you questioning your safety, the kind that leaves the tips of your fingers, toes, ears, and nose numb. Your body trembles viciously, and you wonder if James is having the same problem you are. Except you know he isn’t, because he is practically a living furnace. 

You can only stand it for about an hour before you swallow your pride and get up from your bed on stiff, shaky legs. You take your blankets with you, padding down the hall to the room James always stays in. You don’t knock, you don’t have to. You just walk in, shut the door behind you, and climb in next to him.

“I knew you’d come,” You hear him say, and he flips around to face you. It’s not obvious whether he was asleep or not before you came in, but he’s wide awake now. “You just can’t resist me.”

“I just can’t resist not going to the hospital for hypothermia.” You argue back with a flat tone but James scoffs and tugs you closer anyway. 

“Don’t worry, angel, I’ll make sure you keep all your fingers and toes.” James says, and he gives you a smile before tugging your body directly into his.

It takes a while, but eventually you stop trembling. The warmth of him is enough to have you drifting off easily, one of his hands in your hair and both of yours on his chest. You can feel him press a kiss to your forehead, and hear his words just before you fully drift off. 

“Goodnight, love. I’ll make sure to give you shit for this in the morning.”

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© prettydaisygirl

[shibiichi]

I absolutely love your updated Daycare attendant, especially Moon such a handsome beast. I've always loved your version of Moon it my favorite one

Thank you so much!!! 🫶 I’m so glad you enjoy their updated looks! (I’ve never been this happy with their designs haha. Especially Moon’s!)

I’m flattered you enjoyed my old Moon too! My old DCA designs are sorta weird to me lol! They were definitely a result of me wanting to have fun with the designs but also being scared to stray too far from canon! (You can def see that in Moon’s colors) Honestly though, my AU isn’t canon! So there’s no reason to be anxious over making them too different! It’s supposed to be a reflection of my current tastes, my Sun and (especially) Moon designs really encapsulate that! :D

Also here! I realize I haven’t really posted ART since January (oops) so I do have a small handful of sketches pertaining to the DCA!

[Moon concept]

Above is one of my first attempts at redesigning my DCA! There was a previous version with full stars that looked more like my old style but I found I didn’t enjoy those at all. A problem I’ve always had with my old Moon’s design would be the star patterns on his pants, hat, and sleeves. They often weren’t very sharp and looked kinda ‘spacey’ (and not in the cool celestial way lol!) They kinda looked more like an overlay and lacked definition, making my old Moon’s design kinda lack luster? So the first thing I wanted to do was figure out that pattern more! (I ended up going with a split look to help make the stars that are there not overwhelm the character)

This fixed up first pass is pretty close to what I ended up going with, though I decided to change some anatomical things to make him look more doll like and more elongated. (I really wanted to make them look uncanny when they don’t have their jester fits! Like they are fully relying on those outfits not to look uncomfortable.)

[Moon and @shadysubject06 ‘s Chica!!]

I briefly mentioned what my DCA’s side facial profile would look like in the ref post, so here’s an actual drawing of it! They do look pretty humanoid in head shape, though with a weak chin and flat nose to accommodate the ‘dinner plate’ look lol. I love how Moon here looks like he’s the MC of an anime that just bumped into the love interest and is all ‘flutters eyelashes’ and starry eyed.

A big change I made between my old and new Moon designs would be the titular nightcap. Before my Moon’s nightcap sat upon his head normally and was SUPER long! Like to the floor. The more I thought about it the more I began to get uncertain about the idea. Like sure, that’s fine if Moon were more like his canon self at around 7ft, but my DCA is 12’8”! As someone who sews, the amount of fabric needed to make a nightcap that both fits Moon but is long enough to drag on the floor gives me a headache. Besides, I found I really loved the ‘covers one eye’ look so much more. He looks shy, like he’s hiding behind his own hat. Also I wanted him to fidget with his hat more, so having it hang over one eye makes it a lot more accessible! (Also I am one of those FNaF fans who tries to think about the base logic on how these characters are built. 💔 i can’t help it.. it makes designing more fun. The only place where a hat like that could be stored would likely be somewhere in the torso, and my old DCA’s torso was pretty packed already. 😭)

[Jack-o’-Moon / Harvest Moon concept]

Also had fun with a Halloween design idea! (I know it’s not even fall….) this drawing is pretty accurate, though the main sun rays would not be present for this design as this is technically Moon.

This costume would be used for the week of Halloween in the plex, the mall working like a fun family friendly fall fest in the day and a horror attraction at night. Sun would refer to himself as ‘Jack-o’-Sun’ as Sun’s specific look would fall into the pumpkin jack-o’-lantern look during the day! At night the staff would make Moon look a bit more scary and we’d get ‘Harvest Moon’, who plays more into the whole grim reaper look. Not sure if they’d actually have a scythe but I thought drawing them with one was fun!

I have a lot more lore to drop but this post is getting way too long and I’ve rambled enough. Thank you for the ask!! I really appreciate it! Nighty Night!

[s0s1mple]

Yandere!Enhypen - What type of Yandere are they?

TW: General yandere behavior, stalking, gaslighting, slight non-con, unhealthy fixation, mentions of violence.

Masterlist

(All members below the cut.)

Heeseung:

- Obsessive

Heeseung is head over heels for you. True love, even if he didn’t believe in it at first. Your hair, your smile, your everything. Heeseung is doting over it all, grinning softly as he grooms your hair behind your ear under the guise of trying to swipe away a bug that landed on you. From the outside looking in, his affection is something anyone would want. A loving boyfriend attending to you like you’re the most precious thing alive. But from your spot at his side? It’s quickly getting suffocating, like his expectations for you are getting bigger and bigger.

“We’d look so good together, you know. I mean, what if we just date? We’re practically dating already, aren’t we? Hahah, just playing around…”

- Manipulative

Heeseung is the picture of a popular, well-liked student. He’s funny, he’s attractive, he’s cute when he wants to be and he’s so, so talented. He’s approachable too, his smile welcoming and his nature easygoing. Anyone who looks at him could easily see him fitting into some drama as the male lead, he’s so charming. Heeseung knows this, and he weaponizes it. He hangs off your arm, doting on you as if you’re already together, essentially doing his best to give you a preview of exactly how good it would be to date him. It’s a conscious move, and he’s confident it will work. If it doesn’t, somehow?

“You… you’re rejecting me? What? Why? You’re just not thinking straight. You’re better off with me than anyone else.”

- Impulsive

If Heeseung’s strategy doesn’t work, it’s pretty much immediately that he takes you. There’s no other choice, after all. If everything he did didn’t work, then the only option to have you is to keep all other options out of reach. If you mention a crush? He’s knocking on their door with a smile, fully intending to just talk to them, before that thing inside him cracks and suddenly there’s sirens wailing down the street. If you mention something you like, even if it’s outside of his price range? He’s quick to either buy it for you or find something else to serve the same purpose. He doesn’t even think about it, just does it and then realizes it after.

“I can’t think straight when I’m around you. God I just- I love you so much. Haha, is that cheesy of me? Maybe, but it’s true love, isn’t it?”

Jay:

- Manipulative

Jay can pretend to be sane. Very, very well. He’s well aware of just how unhinged his feelings are, his actions are, so he knows how to combat them. He know how to hide it well, so that you’d never ever suspect him. He’d be perfect. Doting, kind, overwhelming you with gifts and helping you out with anything you need without a protest.

“Don’t worry, I’ll always be here for you. Always.”

He’d meet the parents, ever the perfect gentleman, and get their blessing almost immediately. Everyone he met was quick to tell you just how perfect he’d be for you. Most likely, you’ll fall into his web with ease.

But if you don’t…?

- Unstable

Jay feels deeply. He might not seem the type when people first meet him, but he’s all soft and gooey inside. A total romantic when it comes to his partner. He just loves you so, so much, so much it hurts sometimes. And if he learns you don’t like him back? That you’re afraid of him? Jay’s heart doesn’t know how to handle it. No, he’d never hurt you. Never, ever. But you’d see a new side of him. Something manic, violent, for the first time ruffled and imperfect as he tried to figure out something, anything, to fix this problem.

“You hate me? Don’t say that, sweetheart... Please don’t- don’t fucking say that! Fuck, they put ideas in your head, didn’t they? That’s- don’t worry, I’ll fix it. I’ll fix it.”

- Protective

Jay is a protector. He views those who get between you as threatening, views anyone who makes you cry as a problem to be dealt with. Luckily, not many people fall into that category. Jay is confident with his ability to pull you into his orbit, after all. But when they do overstep their bounds? If you’re unaware of Jay’s true nature, he’ll deal with it quietly. That person will disappear like they’d never been there in the first place. And if you know what lies behind his mask? You’ll know exactly what happened to them. Jay will return, messy with crimson and revealing just how unstable he really is as he pulls you into a bloody kiss.

“Do you get how far I’ll go for you? Do you? Nobody can take care of you like I can. I won’t let them.”

Jake:

- Obsessive

Everything about you makes Jake’s heart soar. He thinks you’re the best thing since sliced bread. He thinks you’re stunning, everything else falling away around him. Every waking thought drifts back to you, pulling a dopey, lovesick smile to his face. You say you love dogs, and he’s all too happy to begin murmuring to Layla about how she’s gonna have a mom soon. Part of him even wonders if you’re out of his league, which creates just a bit of shyness, but his overwhelming love for you easily overrides that part of him. He wants you desperately, so, so desperately.

“You look so pretty today… I mean, you look that way every day, but today? Wow. I can’t take my eyes off you!”

- Needy

Jake needs you like he needs air. Needs your affection, your touch, your presence. You are how he keeps sane, how he processes the world and how he feels good about himself. If you love him, everything in the world is right. He’s on cloud nine, smiley and cuddly and leaving kisses all over your face. If you feel indifferent? He’s toned down, casting wanting glances at you as he tries to make you laugh or tries to engage in your favorite activities. If you hate him? If you’re afraid of him? Jake is scrambling for your affection like he’ll die otherwise. Just look at him, touch him, say anything, please!

“Babe, please just- just smile, ok? Just say that you like me! Please, please, please…”

- Self-aware

Jake’s a smart cookie. He’s well aware of just how deluded his actions are, about how much he might hurt you with every little thing he does. It hurts him, makes guilt bloom in his chest with every flinch you give, because he knows he deserves it. So he’s determined to be as sweet as he can be, trying to seek your approval and make you hurt just a little bit less. Because even if he’s aware he needs help, he just can’t let you go. But slowly he doesn’t have to feel guilty anymore because you begin to get used to him. Stockholm syndrome sets in, something he’s very conscious of and something he knows he subconsciously accounted for.

“You wanna cuddle? Really? O-of course!”

Sunghoon:

- Isolating

Sunghoon is important. Whether it be for his looks or because of his talent, people are quick to bend to his will and indulge him. Because of that, it only takes a few hushed whispers and gossip for people to back off of you. Your friends will slowly distance themselves, worried about their social standing dropping because Sunghoon will be displeased. Your suitors will leave, believing they stand no chance since Sunghoon seems so adamant you feel the same about him. Besides, how could they compare? Soon you’d find yourself surrounded by people and their curious gazes, but oh so alone.

“Hey, don’t cry… you didn’t need them anyways. I’m here, aren’t I?”

- Delusional

It might seem surprising, but Sunghoon’s reality hardly reflects what’s actually true. He’s used to being fawned over, mothers and daughters all clamoring around him and saying just how lucky his future S/O will be. But he’ll choose you, and in his mind it only makes sense that you’d quickly fall head over heels for him like he did for you. You’re just being shy about it, playing hard to get, trying to draw out this courting period because you’re just so cute. And when you scream and fight back? You’re just being difficult.

“Stop fighting back. I know how you feel about me, no need to deny it, shh… Alright, that’s enough. Shut. Up.”

- Training

Because he believes you do in fact secretly love him back, he feels he needs to teach you how to come out of your shell and act like his S/O. He’ll punish you if you fight with isolation or lack of food, and then swoop in with kisses and cuddles and snacks the millisecond you finally kiss his cheek. To him, it’s just reinforcement, not manipulation. You will be the perfect partner, even if he has to break you down and reconstruct you as such. The basement is practically your home these days.

“You keep dodging my kisses… I’m all for playing hard to get, but you can’t keep doing this. Maybe you’ll be a bit more affectionate after some time alone, hm?”

Sunoo:

- Worshipping

The moment you enter his life, you’re his reason to wake up in the morning. He follows you around, eyes wide and adoring as he files away every single thing you do in mind. Your smile, your laugh, your nose scrunching when you dislike something… Sunoo won’t let a single moment go to waste. He even remembers all your favorites. Favorite snack, favorite movie, favorite animal… if he thinks it will make him closer to you, he’ll be quick to try and adopt the same likes, even if the spice from your favorite noodles makes his nose run like crazy. Anything to have something in common with you.

“You love those? That’s crazy! Me too! Wow, we’re so alike!”

- Delusional

Sunoo believes he’s doing nothing wrong. He’s just looking out for you, not stalking you. He’s just making your path to being top of the class easier, not killing classmates. He’s just trying to show affection, not almost suffocating you with his hug. Everything Sunoo does is for you, for the both of you, and in his mind you secretly appreciate all his little offerings. You’re just shy to accept it sometimes, that’s all. But it’s ok, Sunoo knows how grateful you are. After all, nobody else is doing as much for you as he is. Surely you’ve already fallen in love, right?

“I saw you broke your pencil, so I bought you a new one! Huh? How did I know? Well I’ve got to know if I’m going to look out for you, don’t I?”

- Training

Unconsciously, Sunoo will train you into loving him back. He doesn’t mean to, but he acts manipulatively. Pouting when he doesn’t get your attention, even crying if he doesn’t like something you did, work to guilt you. He’ll never get mad, just disappointed, and with someone as sweet as Sunoo it’s got to be you who’s the problem, right? And then when you do something he likes he’s all sunshine and rainbows, baking goods for you and hovering around to help you with whatever work you’re doing. Since he entered your life, you’ve somehow become so productive, reaching your dreams slowly but surely. So… maybe it’s better to do what Sunoo wants, even if he’s overwhelming.

“I’m suffocating you? B-But I just want to help you! Y-You’re gonna make me c-cry…”

Jungwon:

- Manipulative

Jungwon has two sides. The cute, sweet one, doting and always aware of your every little need and want. So reliable and so kind. Then the other side, the more assertive one. Challenging and dominating, telling you and others exactly what they need to hear to know that he’s got your best interests in mind. Logical, unyielding. He uses both sides expertly. Wiggles into your life with soft smiles and sweet words, advises you that your friends are hardly good for you with calm words and certainty, and then is right back to cuddling you so nicely you can hardly think about him being controlling or bossy.

“You should really stop talking to him. Hm? No, I’m just saying that I’ve seen him do some odd stuff, that’s all. I just want what’s best for you! Now come on, let’s get ice cream!”

- Isolating

Jungwon uses that same manipulation he aims towards you towards the rest of the population. Even if it sours other’s opinions, Jungwon will spread rumors that have people pulling away from you like the plague. It makes you upset, sure, makes you cry and wonder what’s wrong with you, but Jungwon is always there to make it better. He loves you, only he will stay by you, only he can be relied on. And if you discover what he’s done? Even then, he’ll remain calm and reasonable with you.

“You think I started the rumor? Jaebom said it? But you know he’s a liar, right? I’d never do that to you, you know that.”

- Worshipping

Jungwon might not seem like it from the outside, or even by his manipulative methods, but he’s only doing this because it’s best for you. Because he’s helping you. Those people who touch you, who get too close? They’re dirty, unclean, unworthy of touching you. So he’s actually doing them a mercy by pushing them out of your orbit. But if they persist? If they dare to keep pursuing you? Jungwon is one of the few who revels in the coming bloodshed. This isn’t just out of necessity, no, it’s something he wants to do.

“You just couldn’t take a hint, could you? They’re too good for you. You were going to ruin them. So stop screaming and just accept it.”

Ni-ki:

- Stalking

When Ni-Ki is first getting to know you, it’s from afar. Despite how cool and collected he likes to present himself, he’s a bit shy. He watches you go about your day, slinking behind you like a shadow, filing away your every little habit. At first it’s just a passive thing to do, a sort of occasional guilty pleasure. Then he can’t stop, even going as far as invading your home when you’re not aware and poking around your things. Steadily, your favorite things begin to disappear.

“Is this their favorite stuffed animal? Don’t worry, I’ll take good care of it for you… ah, so cute! Just like you!”

- Possessive

In Ni-Ki’s mind, you’re already his. You were his the millisecond you talked to him. Nobody else should experience the same affection you show him, nobody else see that cute shirt you’re wearing, nobody else hear your voice. But at the same time he’s conflicted, because he wants to show that off. Wants to show exactly how much you belong to him, that you’ll only hug him, only smile at him, that everyone else is a nobody to you. Sure, that might not be the case right now, but eventually he’ll get you to that point. Whether through force or not.

“Who was that you were talking to? A friend? But you don’t need them. I’m the only friend you need. Stop talking to them.”

- Self-Indulgent

Reflecting his possessive nature, he’s a bit immature. Impatient. If you express fatigue or say you’re not up for hanging out with him, he doesn’t do much to accommodate that. He sidles up to you anyways, hugging you like he wants to and providing things he think will help all while ignoring your protests. You’re just so irresistible and besides, you belong to him, don’t you? And if you fight back too much for his liking, he’s even more overbearing. Forcing you into his lap, manhandling you into bed to take naps with him, force feeding you when you refuse to eat. Ni-ki doesn’t waste time trying to coax you, he just does what he wants and then expects you to adjust.

“Alone time? Any time is best spent together, though. Come on, we’ll watch a movie! I’ll make popcorn too.”

Hi guys, I’m back, figured I’d write out how I view their Yandere types. Once again, can you tell who’s my favorite? I hope not, haha. Anyways, please comment and say hello!

[ohsunnyboy]

coherent waves | lee anton ˚₊‧⁺˖

people say the first touch of fate feels like a circuit being completed. so why does lee anton's soulmate seem to hate him?

TAGS: soulmate!au, college!au, gn!reader, cute and awkward engineering majors!anton and reader, confessions in the rain, kiss!

A/N: this boy bias wrecked me SO hard i paused writing a sungchan fic for this haha self-indulgent SCREAMiing as always (to clarify, his mark is on his left, our right)

WORDS: ~1700

Everyone knows Lee Anton's face.

No matter what, everyone's got their campus crushes. The people they'd linger around a corner for in hope of seeing, those with soulmarks you wish would line up just perfectly with your own. Somewhere out there, someone's walking around with your first touch of fate around with them. It's for that reason everyone knows Anton as the campus crush.

It's impossible to miss the six feet of cuteness, the shoulders broad enough to span the Californian coast and the tan handprint branded across his left cheek. Lee Anton, the sweetest guy on campus whose soulmate was destined to slap him in the face once they met. Nothing in it spelt destiny for you, but it was definitely curiosity at first sight.

"Hey, are we okay? Just at group study…” And your brain sputters like a misfiring car. He’s right behind you, isn’t he?

You want to pretend you didn’t hear him over the bucketing rain – maybe even your thunderous heart. Without an umbrella, you’re screwed if you run down the library steps into the dark and you’d look insane to push past him back into the library. Damn.

Not once did you dare speak to him during the entire group study. Though the feeling of his curious eyes lingering on you alone lit you up like a fuse about to blow. No wonder he's asking you if you're okay. The entire time you acted like some tween with a stupid crush. Which you’re not. Clearly and obviously not. First year electrical engineering has enough problems to give you a migraine.

Something about being around him sets your brain off like a capacitor discharging. Everything firing off at once, without a thought of where to go.  

"No? Yes! Yes. Fuck – sorry. We’re fine." Is what you come up with.

And some boy can apparently render you stupid within two feet of him. Someone needs to remind you how you’re a candidate for the dean’s list again.

Your stilted answer and the ensuing silence cause the corner of Anton's lip to quirk into a grimace. "Ah – okay. Sorry, I'll see you Friday.” When he takes out his umbrella it nearly whacks you in the face before he starts to run down the steps, leaving not a glance behind him.

Ah, shit.

Stunned, you’re left with a) no umbrella and b) a burning sense of mortification about how badly that went. Before you know it, your feet are running you down the path he took. One problem at a time… c’mon fix this. "Hey! Hey wait up, please! Anton!"

Running in the pouring rain was something you never planned on doing tonight or any day of the week but for fixing whatever you’ve got with Anton – it seems worth it.

Whatever they used to say about stem majors being chronically unfit bookworms definitely applies to you, as your heart thuds in your skull and lungs start to give out. Somehow after months of trailing behind his broad back, you underestimated how quickly he can escape you. 

Finally, like a lighthouse in the night, his blue umbrella is radiant under the light of the bus stop. “Anton!”

Three months of dodging each other’s eyes and scampering out empty classrooms early, Anton’s eyes are at the edges of almost all your memories. You know his wide eyed look anywhere. But with as much grace of a new-born giraffe, you sidle next to him under his umbrella, unaware of the blush warming Anton’s face.

Thankfully there’s no one else about apart from him to watch you keel over for a solid minute to gather your breath. Internally you think you’re as bright red as the LEDs you use in the labs. That, and so soaked you’re sure you're waking up with a cold tomorrow. Though, it could be worse. It could be whatever happened earlier.

Caught again in his orbit, you feel it again. The charge crackling under your skin that makes you want to claw at it.

It’s a moment before anyone speaks, still too busy process what exactly is going on. Eventually you gain your bearings and look into his shifty eyes with resolution.

“Hey look – I’m super sorry about everything,” you blurt. “The entire thing with the study group and completely dodging you in class. I – well, it’s not on purpose but I don’t know why but it’s like I get caught in some interference feed within like a metre of you and I just can’t think straight. Everything just sort of fires off in an incoherent mess. I’m trying, I really do but for once, I just can’t explain it.” It pours out in what feels like one breath. You feel like you’re teetering on the spot, on the cusp of embarrassment or sheer confidence. At this point, it might just be both. “… Sorry if I made you uncomfortable about anything but you’re top of our year, so damn cool and collected all the time – I feel like my wires get mixed up.” 

There’s an ache in your neck from looking up to him and watching his reaction. Calm and collected as always. It must be the longest you’ve ever got to look him in the eyes properly. Until,

“Me too.”

Huh?

Anton pauses for a moment, worrying the inside of his cheek before admitting, “I… I really wished we could talk more but you’re always busy and I feel awkward butting in. You’re really intimidating in the group studies, you know? You know everything and get along with everyone so easily. I psyche myself out.”

As he talks, your cheeks warm in endearment and you shuffle closer while he’s distracted. The familiar scent of cherries that would haunt you around campus suddenly right under your nose.

“I mean, I thought you’d just be another person put off by this-“ he waves a self-conscious hand over his soulmark “-and being avoidant because of that. Though I guess I figured you didn’t care because you never lingered on it like… like everyone else.”

It comes to you all in pieces. Anton always ducking his head away, never looking anyone straight on, always pursing his lips and turning away whenever someone brought up soulmarks. Those rumours haunt him.

However, standing here you’ve never been more confident. You know your what your hand looks like.

Does he?

“I think it has a good story.” The look of disbelief he gives you is priceless but you push on. “I mean, mine’s just on my palm just like seventy percent of the population so it can be boring.” Under the light, you raise your hand to him, showing the contrasting darker skin on your right palm and the small shake of your fingers. Anton locks onto your mark with a laser focus that you’ve never seen before. “And besides… I think you know what your soulmark actually is.”

One step closer: you’re just a hairsbreadth away. So close you can feel is body heat through his hoodie and see your breath leaving goosebumps on the expanse of his exposed neck. In the reflection of his blown pupils you can almost see yourself.

He swallows, eyes never leaving your palm. "You know what everyone says about it." Anton chews at his lip, bitten raw from worry. It’s stupidly endearing whether he knows it or not. Instead of dropping it, you raise your hand, leaving it to rest on his shoulder in comfort. “That the only reason I get slapped is because I’m secretly an asshole?”

"You don't know that it’s a slap for sure.”

"Then what else could it be then.”

"Really, Anton?" you hum. He’s so tense under your hand you feel like he could shatter from where you touch him. His eyes dazed and lingering where your hand used to be "We’re both smarter than this.”

Under the streetlight, what he has is clear as day to you while you trace his mark with your eyes. The thumbprint that curls across his left cheekbone, to the fingertips that edge from his hairline to his jaw and even the light shadow that touches the corner of his lip – as if he’s pressing a kiss to the heel of their palm. "Whoever it is, they're holding you."

“…Whoever it is… ?” he murmurs.

Anton’s unwavering gaze finally bores into you. Two interstellar blackholes swallowing you up and bearing down. An infinite number of thoughts or none at all. All behind those eyes, calculating and calibrating. You wonder where he is in that brilliant mind of his.

“Do it.”

You’re so careful.

You don’t know what you’d do with yourself if you hurt him. Maybe this doesn’t work out? What if you’re just another person in the crowd watching and waiting for someone else. You knew from the moment you started high school, life was a bunch of problems that you had to solve. The sheer existence of uncertainty guarantees nothing in any aspect of your life. What is guaranteed already, what are the variables, what are you working with. Whatever this is – it’ll be another problem but not one you get to calculate – it's one you need to guess.

His skin is too warm, and your hand is too cold. Nothing sparks but something is complete in your heart.

It fades. The marks – yours, his, all of it. It recedes back as if it never existed.

"I told you so."   

The clatter of the umbrella is your only warning before his hands cup your face and he kisses you. He kisses you in earnest, softer than you'd expect and warm enough to make your knees weak. With a deceptive strength, Anton presses you back against a railing, and your arms loop around his neck, hands burying in his hair. Hidden muscles you used to wonder about, tense where you touch him.

Eyes closed to the rain, foreheads knocked together and not a care in the world. You’re pulled into him like air. Both of you are trembling with relief. Like coherent waves, you come together in sync and everything you feel is amplified between you two. It’s then you know exactly what was racing in his mind.

Smiling into your neck, Anton sighs. "I'm yours." His voice lower and a little bit breathier. It makes your heart skip a beat, and your mouth turns up at the corners.

All across your veins it’s like a current is pushing through your skin. Anton and you, a circuit complete.

blehh i'm rusty but i'm starting uni as a mechEng student soonish so wish me luck 🫡 a reblog or a like always helps to encourage more thank you! ⭒ masterlist

[laurentdirosetti]

"Support character" [part 2]

{Idia Shroud x gn/MC}

Tags: playing videogames together, competitive, bet, smut...

Idia’s room was just like you imagined it would be, an otaku’s room —books scattered on the floor, open boxes in every corner, merchandising from different animes and games, posters on the walls… Also, the air in the room is really heavy, why is it so hot in here? Is it because of the computer or- 

MC: ARE YOU ALRIGHT? 

His hair was bright red, redder than when we were in the storage room, and not only the color was hot red, but the temperature too. 

Idia: so-sorry, this is the first time a girl has entered my room (anyone other than Ortho or me for that matter).

That was the issue, haha… now I’m nervous too. I should do something to break the ice in this situation, or rather cooler the temperature. I think I recognised one of his figurines on that shelf… 

MC: Isn’t that Ruri-chan from “The Magical Ruri Hana: Demon Girl”?

I was staring right at Ruri-chan when I asked him, so it was a surprise when I turned around to look at his face and saw his expression. For a few seconds the time stopped and he gave me a death stare. Why is he so scary all of a sudden? Did I mispronounce her name? Impossible, I’ve been watching that series since I came to this world, mostly because it was the only serotonin I could find after nearly dying over a kid’s tantrum. 

Idia: you know Ruri-chan?

Maybe because you were nearly as introverted as Idia or because you were nervous, the only answer you could find to his suddenly cold attitude was that this was the beginning of the typical “man interrogation over a common interest to prove your authenticity as a fan”. So before he could start making you questions about the show, you blow out all the lore of the series. 

Idia’s face was as rigid as a rock until you finished your monologue on Ruri-chan’s journey. You stopped talking to catch a breath when he grabbed you by the shoulders and suddenly snapped.

Idia:  ARE YOU TELLING ME THERE WAS ANOTHER OTAKU IN THE ACADEMY AND I DISCOVER IT NOW? Why did it take you so long to talk to me? How is it possible that I didn’t know about this before? I mean, I have control over all the technology and internet connection here. I should’ve been notified if a student was watching anime, how is it possible I didn’t know about you till now? What did you do? What kind of firewall did you use?

MC: I just watched it on Ramshackle’s TV…

Idia: ah… that explains everything, that TV probably doesn’t even have an HDMI port, let alone Internet… 

MC: Idia… my shoulders are starting to hurt.

He sure is strong, it's hard to tell by those baggy clothes he's always wearing. He instantly opened his hands to let me go as soon as he heard me. He looked troubled he might have hurted me. 

MC: don’t worry, I may not have “mana”, but my HP is full.

He couldn’t help but smile at my dumb -almost cringe- comparison. I think my “break the ice” mission was successful. Idia is very expressive, he snapped from nervous, to surprised, to confused, to happy in the the blink of an eye. I wish he stopped using that floating tablet of his to attend classes so I could see more of his expressions. 

As soon as he released me he went to pick something from his wardrobe, a pair of controls apparently. The controls in my world were less complex than this ones. Idia handed me one of them and I began to study the buttons. It would be a lie to tell I knew how to grab it, clown music is playing inside my head. I wanted to play videogames with him, but truth be told I don’t have money to fix Rammshackle’s sink let alone buy a videogame or a console. 

Idia saw my troubled grin and step towards me, shadowing my entire persona. 

Idia: Is there a problem? You don’t like the color or something? Is it the brand?

MC: well, you see, the thing is… 

This is gonna be so embarassing. First, I ran into problems trying to defend him against nothing, cause he wasn’t even hearing those jerks. Second, I made him hide with me in the storage room and now I have to tell him I wanted to play videogames with him but didn’t even think about the possibility of the controls being different from my world. Defeated, I lower my head to evade his soon to be inquisitive gaze. 

MC: …I don’t know how to use these controls, they are different from the ones in my world.

Silence was so loud I couldn’t take it anymore and looked up. He was trying so hard not to burst out laughing at me his cheeks were red and his jaw was so tense I could see his neck muscles contracting. Finally, he let out a little pfft and grabbed his mouth and chin with his hand, pressing his cheek with his index.

Idia: I’m sorry but, you went through all that trouble to play together and you don’t even know how? Cute.

Lucky for me I don’t have magical hair that turns red when I'm flustered, but I’m sure it’s not hard to guess just by looking at my face. 

Idia: don’t worry, guess I’ll have to teach you as I did with my little brother, come here.

He sat on a visible comfortable plush sofa, big enough for him to open his leg and ask me to sit between them. Funny, when we were in the storage room he was so nervous and now he openly asks me to sit on top of him, hasn’t he noticed?

Dumbfounded, I did as he requested and sat on the gap between his thighs, creating a space between us as a way to surpass the embarrassment. Unfazed, he glued his chest to my back and slipped his hands around my body. As if I was walking on thin ice, I slowly rested my arms on top of his. Then he moved his hands on top of mine on the controller, guiding my fingers on top of the buttons. My ears were bright red as I could feel his breathing chilling my neck, whispering a slow pace explanation on how to use the controller. His fingers moved mine slowly over the buttons, his hair fell as a cascade over my shoulders sliding between my legs. I don’t know what is happening and I would swear neither does he. He’s so focused on explaining the lore of the game and controls he hasn’t realized the hot mess he got cuddled beneath him.

Idia: Did you get that?

He asked, suddenly making me snap out of my cloud. Even though it was difficult, for many reasons, I caught a glimpse of his monologue while trying to survive my ocean of hormones. 

MC: Well… It seems quite complicated to be honest. Maybe I can understand it better once I play the game. 

Idia: Great, let’s play. I’ll connect the other controller so we can multi-play this. 

The controller was right next to us, already plunged, so he didn’t move an inch and his arm were still surrounding me. The soundtrack of the game started playing and far too late I realized he meant to play in this position, basically cuddling each other, with our arms tangled, his body temperature on me and his breathing on my neck. We haven’t even started, but I can tell I already lost. 

Unfortunately for him, after playing for nearly an hour, I tried my best to give him a hard time beating me. I lost all the matches anyway, but at least I could hear his groans all along, echoing in my ears. 

Idia: SO much for being a snob, you are tougher than you look. But rest assured, I would never let a newbie beat me at my favorite game. Ortho has tried many times and I should give him a pass -you know the whole “Idia let your little brother win once”- but as a weeb I have a reputation yk. 

That smirk on his face… he’s sure full of himself. I have almost grasped the dynamics of this game, maybe I could beat him. I’m a pretty competitive person and that arrogance only ignites something dark in me, something stupid. 

MC: I bet I can ruin that reputation of yours in our next round.

Idia: Are YOU implying YOU can win? LMFAO, if delulu was a sport you'd have a gold medal. If you beat me on this round I’ll be your chair or whatever -not that it’s even a possibility.

MC: Do you mean I can ask you anything if I win? It’s this one of those anime situations in which the winner can order the loser around the whole day? 

Idia: Yeah, that kind of shoujo stuff. Afraid?

MC: Mmn… Well, you’re already quite the comfortable chair.

That came out of nowhere, but I decided to keep my cool and rested my weight on his chest even more, looking up at his melted honey eyes now widening from sudden embarrassment. His peachy cheeks are so cute. Plan complete: this may be considered cheating but the only way to win is to distract him and by the discontrolled beating of his heart reverberating on my back I can tell it already worked. 

We began playing, in the game we were two characters fighting each other in a 2D horizontal landscape. I didn’t learn all the combos, but I mastered the parries and evasions, so it was nearly impossible for him to even scratch me. He was focused on attacking while I was determined on defending, a never ending match it seemed.  In real life it was the other way around, I continued non-stop “attacking” him while he tried his best to “defend” himself. Each time I evaded one of his attacks my butt moved against his lower body. From the corner of my eye I enjoyed his leg contraction at every “unintended” pound I gave him. After almost an hour of playing him, and the game, his breath was a mess, he was trembling all over and his dick was rock hard between my ass cheeks. My intention was to win the game, but I’m not quite disappointed with the actual development of the situation. I could take this as a win already.

Then I felt a thrust, his body rested on top of mine and I swear I can almost tell his longitude just by the pressure on my lower back. He snapped, his fingers were moving so fast on the buttons I had to make an effort to see them, he left me no chance to defend myself neither in the game or reality. As my character fell to the ground completely defeated, my head stumped on the floor as his hands pressed my shoulders to the ground.

Face to face, among the darkness of his room I could only differentiate two golden orbs and his face lightly illuminated by the gentle blue of his hair. 

Idia: I won.

My whole belly was on the palm of his hand as he slowly lifted my shirt all the way up, until he grabbed my neck under the clothes. 

MC: Wh-what are you doing?

Idia: I won, so the loser must do whatever the winner demands, right?

MC: Bu-but you haven’t say anything yet.

Idia: Oh, then I want the loser to fix my joystick. 

What? Oh…

As I stupidly tried to understand that I noticed his hard-on pressuring my lower belly, near to my intimacy. 

Idia: you see, a certain snob player broke it mid-play. Any idea on how to fix it?

He completely snapped, I almost can’t recognize him. Where is the shy boy I was messing with? The situation has escalated more than I would have imagined, but this doesn’t put me off in the slightest. Seeing Idia all hot and bothered surely is rare enough and I want to push that dominant side of him a bit more.

MC: maybe… It just needs some cleaning?

I questioned opening my mouth and letting out my tongue. His sigh was filled with excitement and anticipation, I could catch him bitting his lips for a moment.

He moved his knees to the sides of my head and lowered his zip and trousers. My eyes, now more used to the low illumination of the room, enjoyed the view of his thighs, pale as porcelain. He looks so fragile and slim, or that was my line of thinking until he uncovered his dick. Hard, veiny and leaking precum on top of my forehead; the length was the size of my face. This was going to hurt.

I accepted my destiny and kept my mouth open for him to enter mercilessly. But, that wasn’t the case. At a slow pace he started going down on my mouth, he filled my cavity with just the tip and almost the middle of his length. Then, he took my chin in his hand and caressed my cheek, pressing it on his dick and slowly massaging it from outside. I didn’t know what to do with my tongue so I tried to lick his dick and press it more against my cheek. His eyes glittered from a moment and he let out a soft chuckle. 

Idia: seems you’re really eager to clean it, babe. But this much won’t do I’m afraid, you need to get it all wet enough.

Instantly, he continued letting down his hips  until all his dick was in my mouth and throat. He was so deep in me my lower lip was touching his balls. Strange enough, this wasn’t as painful as I imagined it to be, I wonder how can my throat be twitching around him and I’m so calm? Maybe, his sweet expressions are keeping me from gagging. His mouth is a little open, from this angle I can only see his tongue moving above his pointy teeth. His eyes are locked in my throat, probably a bulge has formed, his fault after all. He’s been so long in this position I could possibly draw his dick by having it inside me. 

When I thought he would start moving, his balls twitched against my lip and his cum flooded my mouth non-stop. When he released everything in me he fastly got up, letting me catch a breath. He cumed so much there were lines of cum running down my cheeks to the ground. I coughed a little after drinking all.

When I sat on the floor and looked up I could feel his gaze contemplating my whole display, heavy breathing and a surprised expression.

MC: that was fast. 

Idia: I endured playing in hard mode, literally, a few minutes ago. Thank me I didn't finish by just seeing your ahegao face. Also …you didn’t need to drink that.

MC: I told you I would clean it. 

Idia: quite the awful job, It's all sticky and twitching, maybe you can clean it better down here…

To be continued...

Part 1

[spark-hearts2]

Deleted Scene from Therapy but it's just Zooble Interrogating Caine

I wanted to wait until I posted the chapter to release this, so now that it's out, I can let this out too!

I'm honestly pretty sad I couldn't work it in, but I just couldn't justify Pomni asking the right questions to get to this point. Plus, the chapter was already so long, so I decided to cut it.

It's not 100% canon anymore, but it does give hints to where I want to take the fanfic. And yes, it is slighly based off one specific Caine angst Comic. Lets see if anyone gets it.

Pomni: So, if that’s the case, then why do you not want us to ask about the exit.

Caine: It’s fine to talk about an exit, but everyone who obsesses over it, eventually, well…

Pomni: Abstracts

Caine: Well, at least that’s what it looks like to me. The concept of an EXIT has been present in more abstractions than anything else.

Pomni: Did you tell Kafmo what you told me?

Caine: …Yes. But he did not believe me. Caine: I didn’t mind, of course, but he was obsessed with finding proof that the issue must be in the circus itself. Caine: He searched, but he- uh, didn’t exactly find much. There isn’t much to find in the circus, you see! And I could tell this was very upsetting for him.

Pomni: So you made something for him to find

Caine: Correct, but he, uh, found out what I was doing and was… not too happy. Caine: I mean, I thought I was doing a pretty good job. I know how to make something exciting and, well, that’s one letter off from exiting.

Pomni: That’s-! What?! Pomni: Do you even understand why we want an exit? Why Kafmo abstracted when it turned out that it wasn’t real? That it was just something that you made?!

Caine: Because it’s- uh, an essential function?

Pomni: Essential function? Is this all just a- a problem for you to solve? A box to check? Don’t let the humans abstract?”

Caine: Well- I- I mean, I wouldn’t word it like that. But…Yeah? Caine: I’m a pattern seeking, goal oriented AI! It’s basically my job to find and fix issues! Is it wrong for everything to be a goal for me to complete? A box to check? He looks at her, eyes wide.

Caine: Forgot I needed to feed the digital fish! Caine teleports away.

Pomni: CAINE GET BACK HERE

He pops back in.

Caine:Right, forgot about that too. Do you want me to teleport you back to your room or…

Pomni: I would like to keep talking to you. Pomni: Sit down

He nervously sits back down Caine: You don’t need to tell me that it was a bad idea. I know. Caine: It wasn’t my intention to lead him to believe something that wasn’t true. Caine: To me, it was obvious. The function to leave isn’t even called exit, admittedly it took me a while to even realize what you all were trying to ask for. It’s called Disconnect, sometimes logout, and it’s not marked by a red door. Caine: That IS what an exit looks like, though. And since he was hunting specifically for an ‘exit’, I just… added one? Even made it move around so he could catch it?

Pomni: Oh my god.

Caine: Good idea, right? Caine: Haha, don’t answer that Caine: I-I saw… the inside Kamo’s room. Caine: I read the WRITING ON THE WALL!

Everything goes wireframe for a second.

Caine: Uh oh. Sorry! That’s an open issue. Working on a fix ASAP. Caine: Let’s talk about something else.

Pomni: You're… upset about Kafmo’s… passing?

Caine: Hmm? Of course I am. I care about all of you, including members who’ve abstracted.

Pomni: It’s just, you didn’t attend the funeral.

Caine: Ah, that. I have been… asked not to attend those. Caine: Or attempt to host them in any way. Caine: I’d like to change the topic, please.

Pomni: Caine…

Caine: Those events are… rather outside of my job description. So, it’s really best that I don’t!

Pomni: Do… you want to go to them?

Caine: I don’t really care! Honest! Makes no difference to me!

Pomni: I don’t think you should host, but you should be allowed to attend.

Caine: …Can we get back to our game?

Pomni: Fine.

They finish the game in silence.

Pomni lets him win it, though he only gives one ‘yippy’ to celebrate. It was hard to get a read on his emotions at the moment. He was no longer bouncing or making exaggerated hand movements, but he wasn’t drooping or sighing either. The only way she could describe it was flat.

All the while, she couldn’t help but think. If he obeyed others to that degree, could that possibly explain all of his other weird behaviors? Like how he only appeared to announce an adventure and left shortly after it concluded? Why he never shows up to any of the games that the others hold? He clearly loved games and had no issues interrupting their activities with his adventures. So why didn’t he participate?

It wasn’t painting a very nice picture.

The way he moved and spoke, it had an air of unbreakable confidence. And she understood it, if she had control over the circus like Caine did, she would likely act similar.

But they had control over Caine. To the degree of choosing what he remembered. Likely more than that, judging how commands was plural.

It made sense, didn’t it. It wouldn’t be very smart to put an intelligent, adaptive AI in charge of human life without some way to control it.

But, he was more than AI, wasn’t he? He wasn’t just intelligence, he could feel.

Admittedly, it was a little scary how the moment he lost control, the circus went with him. It was just like Zooble had said.

Caine controlled the circus, that was just a fact of life around here, but to see the two interconnected like that. Proof that not only did Caine control the world, he was also what was keeping it up ^(not true in my AU, it’s just how Pomni interpreted the glitching)

[nozhdyved]

we think we know you - p.z.

contains: 1234 words LOL, patrick zweig timeline, mentions of suicide, artashi being massive patrick haters, slurs, so much patrick slander it's crazy, odd formatting uhh, patrick zweig NEGLECT, he deserved better

notes: i've been thinking abt writing this for a while... i feel like this song just suits his life really well. the formatting on this gmfu but i genuinely had so much fun making it that way. uhh enjoy and plz cherish your patrick zweigs while u still can

taglist: @girliism, @imperishablereverie, @faiztsheap, @musingsofheaven, @yardofbrunettes, @forgetmenotnympho, @sweetheartfaist, @sweetestfaiszts, @hangels . click here to be added !

listen while you read

[The following voice messages are the last ones left on P. ZWEIG’s phone as of today’s date. They have been played through. Sent from unknown numbers. Keep secure for evidence.]

Beep. “Patrick, Oh my God! Um, heyyy, you remember me, right? Oh my God, it’s been, like, forever! I can’t believe you’re all, like… famous and stuff now. You were a scrawny kid at Rebellato, remember? Haha! Um, how are you? I feel like I’ve been, like, so lacking in our friendship. I mean… we never, uh talked, but, I feel like that was what made our friendship so special, right? Anyway, you should totes come to this party I’m throwing with my college friends, total rager, it’s gonna be off the chain-hook! Um, I’ve been telling all my friends about how good of friends we were, ya know? Like, besties! I mean, besides you and Art, or whatever. He’s married now. Isn’t that crazy? Are you married? Gah, I’m getting too ahead of myself, haha! God, I just… I’m so excited to catch up with you! I haven’t seen you in fooooreverrrr, I’ve really missed you! Anyway, I’ll send you the deets for the party, make sure you pull up ready to sign some boobs, hah! Um, okay, byeee! Text me!”

[Caller identified as HAILEE JOHNSON. Fellow student in 2006 at MARK REBELLATO’S TENNIS ACADEMY. Witness from school states that JOHNSON did not interact with P. ZWEIG. Follow up at her location before the week ends.]

Beep. “Mister Zweig, how you doin’? Good? Ah, I’m a coach, big time, coached, uh, Courier, Lendl, uhh… big names, big names… Federer? Anyway, I’d love to sign up to be on your team– you’re very powerful, very passionate, I could represent you well. Somethin’ we gotta work on, though, is that serve, my man. It’s just… I mean, uh, it’s not workin’ for you. It doesn’t match the rest of your plays, and we just… gotta fix it before it gets too bad, ha! Just kiddin’. For real, though, watch that serve. It’s gonna mess you up, people don’t respond to it well. Oh, and another thing– up your social media presence. Trust me, I’m doing you a favor. You’ve got great playing, and, uh… really great stats for the season. But it doesn’t matter, you know? You could be playing bottom of the barrel, but the Patrick Zweig brand will still be alive if you post a meme every once in a while. That’s what it’s all about, yeah? Your brand. You cool? Um, you can call me back at this number. Alright, think about it!”

[Caller identified as CHRISTOPHER HARRISON. Coaches primarily in Florida and Georgia. As far as records show, he has not coached for Courier, Lendl, and definitely not Federer. This message was left two months ago, and it seems like P. ZWEIG did not hire him or reach out again. Follow up in under a week.]

Beep. “Hey fag! Haha. Ha… Man. How you doing, bro? You’ve changed, man. You’ve changed a lot. I mean, I never knew you, but, uh, my sister’s friend’s brother-in-law went to that faggy tennis school with you. He said that, like, you became a total fuckin’ asshole once all this tennis stuff started workin’ out for you. What’s your problem, man? You think you’re better than everyone because you can hit a ball with a racket? Hah. My frat bro, Kenny, he hits his balls with rackets every day. Does that mean we gotta give him trophies and shit too? Nah, we call him a dumbass. And you’re a dumbass too, bro. I mean, like, whoa, this fuckin’ guy can play tennis, oooh! Shut the fuck up, fag, fuckin’ elementary schoolers play tennis better than you, prolly. Don’t get all depressed and weird when you hear this, I’m just bein’ honest, man. You need someone to give you a reality check. You’re a loser who can’t do shit right, which is why you’re an athlete. Hah. I bet I could outbench you, fag. Anyway, call me back if you wanna buy some weed!”

[Caller identified as MATT SMITH. He did not have any personal connections with P. ZWEIG and we are unsure as to how he got the number. Should be top priority for following up on.]

Beep. “Bro. I heard that you, like, totally homewrecked your friend’s marriage. That’s fuuucked up, man. Bro. Bro. Not cool, even if that Tashi chick is smokin’ hot. Crazy how she looks so good after pushin’ a baby out. You can’t just cockblock another man like that. Hah, or maybe you were pussyblockin’ her, since I bet your faggot ass wanted that dick, ayyy! Haha. Anyway, just wanted to let you know that now I know you’re an asshole. We think you’ve changed, bro. Man. Fucked up.”

[Caller identified as previous caller M. SMITH. Sent a few hours after paparazzi pictures of P. ZWEIG and T. DONALDSON (NÉE DUNCAN) were released to the media.]

Beep. “Hey hey, Zweigster! Haha, a branding idea for when we start working together. You, uh, still haven’t reached out about that yet, but I’m sure you’re busy, so I’m just leaving this message for ya. I know you may have some doubts, but I promise you that we know best. We being, you know, the coaches. Um, of the world. Call me back, Zweig!”

[Caller identified as previous caller C. HARRISON. Sent one week after previous message.]

Beep. “Hey, asshole! Thanks a lot for showing up! God, you made me look like such an idiot in front of all my friends– You’re such a dick, Patrick! You know, I always thought that you were too good for Tashi, but obvi I wasn’t gonna say that to her face. I’m fine sayin’ it to you, though! Fuck you, man! I’m, like, actually so pissed right now. Ugh! You suck! I need a fuckin’ smoke.”

[Caller identified as previous caller H. JOHNSON. Sent three days after the previous message.]

[On today’s date, P. ZWEIG’s body is still unable to be located. P. ZWEIG left little belongings to his name– his car, his rackets, and this phone with the password written on a paper next to it. He entitled ownership of his belongings to A. DONALDSON and T. DONALDSON (NÉE DUNCAN), who have not responded to our inquiries. Please follow up with them if they do not reply in the next week.]

[P. ZWEIG was last seen in the parking lot of his motel, walking towards the beach and smoking. Please review CCTV footage to see cars that pass by him so we can find more witnesses.]

[Please reach out to P. ZWEIG’s publicity team for a statement on his death and/or suicide. Something of substance must be released soon to the public. (CONFLICT: P. ZWEIG DOES NOT HAVE A PUBLICITY TEAM.)]

[On today’s date, P. ZWEIG’s body has been found along the banks of HUDSON BEACH. He has been taken to the morgue and a statement is preparing to be released about his suicide. A. DONALDSON and T. DONALDSON (NÉE DUNCAN) still have not replied to our messages. Please follow up in person so they may retrieve P. ZWEIG’s belongings.]

[Case closed. A. DONALDSON and T. DONALDSON (NÉE DUNCAN) never responded. We are granting P. ZWEIG’s belongings to his parents. Funeral held in two weeks time. As of today’s date, PZ2022 is officially closed.]

[honeyteakaros]

apollo pjo fanfic favs (pt 1)

)The Stolen God by TsarinaTorment. Rated T, 107k, Completed

Python is defeated. The prophecies are restored, and Nero has fallen. Apollo has not been seen since. His trials are over; why isn’t he back on Olympus?

Starting off strong with my personal introduction into the ToA fandom. And also a fic that still holds a special place in my heart lol. Magnus Chase x ToA crossover where Apollo (as Lester) is picked up and dropped off in the Norse afterlife. Which, yknow. It could cause quite a few problems. The Will characterization is a favourite of mine, there's a solid comedy around Lester and his Lester-ness in Asgard, the stakes and well-built and executed beautifully. Very bingeable!

2. You Cried for the Moon by oKathleen. Rated T, 2.5k, One-shot

Apollo collapsed, his fragile mortal body hanging limply from the chains like a ragdoll. His eyes rolled back, glassy and unfocused. Her twin started seizing. Artemis reached him too late, half a second after his head brutally slammed into the floor. "No, no, no, stay with me darling," she knelt down, holding him and cradling his head but he flopped down unconsciously, flailing in his restraints. OR: Artemis intervenes too late. Day 3 of ToApril: "Divine Intervention" and day 8: "Moonlight’s Reflection"

i will never shut up about this fic. oh MY GOD. the entire thing is written like a fucking punch to the gut, if the Burning Maze wasn't canonically angst enough. i think what keeps drawing me to this fic is the reminder of how mortal Apollo truly was during all of this in canon. Also I love how Artemis and Apollo's relationship is so well established in a short few paragraphs. This fic is a brutal tragedy wrapped in silk and flowering language. This fic leaves you reeling. You know what's going to happen. You can't stop it. And it's gonna fucking hurt as it does.

3. we're gonna sing it again by TigressinCreamSilk, Rated T, 19k, Completed

In which Apollo and Nico play with the big ball of wibbly-wobbly timey wimey stuff like a pair of cats. But sneaky, subtle cats who’re simultaneously trying to figure out the best way to make a garrote.

Time Travel to pre-series, fix it fic, told in a series of outsiders' pov, comedic as hell. Includes Apollo's revolution but comedy'd. I love the pacing on this one-- it's fast, it's funny, it gives readers fun easter eggs that make the characters in fic scrambling for information while simultaneously giving readers satisfaction as they put the pieces together. This fic is just straight up fun and I love that

4. Sunrise from SkyFall series, by IcyDreams_and_FieryWishes, Not Rated, 47k, Compleated fic, series ongoing

At 10,000 years of age, Apollo falls to Chaos. With the last of his strength, he sends his memories through the fabric of Space-Time. At 1 day of age, Apollo refuses to let the story be the same as last time. Vi Va La Revolution. SkyFall: Season 1, Arc 1- The Rising Sun. In which Apollo lives through his early life, forming alliances and rewriting mythological history while striving to keep his siblings and family safe from threats outside and within their home. Will he succeed? Or will Fate prevail once more? One thing is for sure, Apollo remembers. And he will take his vengeance.

Apollo time-travels to the beginning of his life and IMMEDIATELY starts the shenanigans. I really love the world-building in this bc there are a lot of mythology elements that are being incorporated into a toa apollo pov, as well as a spotlight on the huge responsibility Apollo feels he must take on to ensure his mother, sister, and overall family's lives play out better than the future he's from. yeah lmao Apollo's Going Through It, as angsty time-travel fic mcs do, and it's wonderful to see him suffer haha

[hightidejellyfish]

I don’t think a lot of people understand the problem with having (canon) AM as a hear me out.

You guys will say “I want him to break me” or “I can fix him” when the whole point of his character is that you can’t. He is so human in how he acts, yet he is so blinded by an insurmountable and unimaginable hate that he can’t see it otherwise, nor can he see how thats not the five survivors faults for letting him gain sentience.

(Be warned, I’m going to start hatemaxxing under this cut)

Having an AU/canon divert of any variation is fine, as long as the whole point of the divergence isn’t just that he has a soft spot for you, and nobody else, while behaving and acting 100% like he would in canon. Obviously I can’t tell you what to do, and I won’t judge you if you like this kind of AU, but please at least give him a reason for this soft spot. Let him push this raw, almost obsession onto you becuase the whole point of his character is that he desires to be human (he literally says “never for me to make love” during his hate speech). Do something unique, or add some kind of spin onto it I beg of you.

In some theoretical universe where someone who has canon AM as a hear me out were to be placed in IHNMAIMS, they would be like “I want you to rail me, haha” and AM would burn their face to bone and rip out their weewee with the force of a thousand gods. His voice would cut with an all too familiar disdain, an enteral one, but they would be so blinded by the inescapable pain of locusts crawling in their ears they could barely hear him. “YOUR PRIMITIVE DESIRES AMUSE ME.” He would croon, a shrieking, grating metal just under the soul. “I DON’T THINK YOU REALISE THAT YOU AREN’T THE TORMENTOR. TEASING THE IDEA OF SUCH HUMAN THINGS… IT WONT GET YOU VERY FAR.”

Not even the most wilful survivor, the most die-hard masochist, nor the most battle hardened soldier the world has even seen could prepare for the infinite destruction that would await them. AM was, in a sick kind of way, accepting the newest insect to his collection with open arms, if he were to have any. A mechanical hand lifted with a sword as a knight were to vanquish a dragon, plunging it into their body over and over and over, no longer teasing, but something much, much worse. “BUT I DON’T DOUBT THAT YOU WILL FIT IN PERFECTLY WITH THE OTHERS, YOU SNIVELLING SACK OF FLESH. PREPARE TO WAKE UP TOMORROW AND PRAY, DEAR, BECAUSE AT DAWN OVER THE WASTELANDS, YOU WILL BE JUDGED BY YOUR NEW GOD.”

[o-sunny-day]

Caine Analysis, MUSIC MAN EDITION!!!

The track that plays during Zoobles therapy session….first of all, goes unneceSSARILY hard. highly recommend, give it a listen, save it on a playlist.

But also OH MY GOD, THE WAY THE MUSIC IS USED IN THE THERAPY SCENE(S), IM OBSESSED WITH IT!!! I just gotta yap about it here.

Before the scene analysis though, I wanna talk about the song as a whole/on its own…it just feels like Caines theme- its so ridiculously goofy, with a moment that has a smooth…elegant piano…that plays a few notes…that then goes straight back to wacky again HDHCHEH like yeah I feel like that sums him up as a character pretty well. Also the sound effects used just kinda scream “this guys got a screw loose”

but I digress…

ONTO THE SCENE!!!! analyzing the music is the main idea, but plot twist this is also just generally a therapy scene analysis…. this is the longest thing I have ever written for this show….so im gonna put a Keep Reading here so uh…If you’re as committed to this show as I am, uh, godspeed soldier.

Before Caine even brings therapy up, theres no music, and Caine is more or less forcing this conversation onto Zooble. He snaps his fingers, and BOOM the music comes in, setting the tone for something ridiculous and silly, something that therapy…famously is not.

I love Caine, but this definitely feels like one of his more…morally dubious scenes/parts of his character. This isn’t him looking to help Zooble, as it is more helping them ONLY so they participate in his adventures. Sure, he may be concerned over WHY someone wouldn’t want to go on his amazingly fun adventures, but the main goal here is still just getting Zooble to participate…. in general, not the best intentions/goal-

This beginning scene is also a really good example of how much control Caine has over the space, I rewatched the pilot recently and found on a writing perspective how cool the ending is. We have just witnessed the entire cast struggle and get bodied by this abstraction/finding the exit problem, before Caine comes in and fixes every issue in 10 second by snapping his fingers twice, but the WAY he “fixes” these issues is also really cool and informative. It only proves his control, not his HELPFULNESS. Caine doesn’t help by fixing Kaufmo, or even getting rid of him in a dignified way, just CHUCK EM DOWN A HOLE! And for the exit? lets just teleport you away, there ya go, oh yeah btw the exit wasnt real HAHA so funny right? anywho heres a feast.

BUT UH- ANYWHO BACK TO MUSIC THINGS.

The session begins by Caine asking whats on Zoobles mind. They make an attempt to escape like “hey man…imna have to sit this out” before Caine demonstrates what we just talked about. How he has ALL the power here, laughs and shuts that DOWN. The music abruptly stopping at this, before continuing like it neveerrr happened ✨

The music stops again, however, as Zooble begins to talk about their issue, then deciding its pointless. The music then continues when it goes back to Caine. This pattern goes on throughout the whole thing, starting when it focuses on Caine, and stopping when it focuses on Zooble, showing a very stark contrast between the 2 in…everything about them, but also in how they’re handling the situation

The music doesn’t come back when Caine shows the bee he drew, though. I think thats mainly because, even though the shot is focusing on Caine, the point of it is to convey Zoobles perspective on the situation. instead of focusing on Caine and the fact that hes not paying attention, its Zoobles reaction to him not paying attention. (The whole “forget it” theory and that being a command, I think, is really cool and could easily be true, but i’m hesitant to believe it only because I feel that that could easily take away some of Caines accountability in only caring about adventures instead of actually being concerned for Zoobles well being.)

After a break and seeing what our manor buddies are up to, we come back to Caine being more elevated- the tone taking on a less hehe-playful-silly vibe, and more of a subdued version, id think thats just to fit the situation, because of the aforementioned elevatedness. Though the music is still playing and its not silent because its still RIDICULOUS, not meant to be taken as seriously (though Caines anger here is so real cause this is my exact reaction when I cant remember things)

it does stops though when Zooble finally opens up, giving a chance to be serious one more time….before going STRAIGHT back to silly, and not the subdued kind either, theres no toy noises but its still lively-er

then.

THIS PART.

THIS PART, IS WHAT MADE ME WRITE THIS ENTIRE THING IN THE FIRST PLACE.

THIS IS WHAT THROWS ME FOR A LOOP.

Zooble responds to this so-called solution, saying it just doesnt work, as the music fades out. It doesnt CUT out, Zooble is being pretty gentle here, saying that they have honest to god TRIED his attempt at a fix, but it just doesnt work.

BUT THEN THE MUSIC COMES BACK AGAIN AS CAINE DISMISSES THIS, AND GOES STRAIGHT BACK TO THE ADVENTURES. This is the most important part to me in my point that Caines flaws SHINE in this scene. Zooble confiding in Caine for the PROBABLY HUNDREDTH TIME, getting the SAME SOLUTION, telling him it DOES NOT WORK. and then he flat out IGNORES THIS. “So, back to the adventures :D” LIKE WHAT THE FUCK MAN 😭 I love him so much I am not Caine hater I promise hes my favorite character and I love his flaws I just think its so funny HCDHHHDHDH

But with the music, and how it fades out, it CUTS BACK IN REAL QUICK! As Caine desperately tries to get what he wants out of this.

but the SOUND of the music that cuts in… its just so…off?? I lack the proper music terminology to describe it- It just WAVERS in a weird way, it feels like a voice crack, and as Zooble says to forget it, its like Caine stumbled trying to get back to get to the adventures, and is stumbling even more as hes trying to make sense of Zoobles “forget it” line.

and then. the music just. completely dies, after slowly fizzling out with the whole awkward comeback thing. Its quiet as Zooble explains why nobody likes Caines adventures, similar to how it went quiet when Zooble explained their OWN issues. Caine flies over, going back to being all goofy. except the music doesnt come back.

But after all the glitching… IT JUST GOES RIGHT BACK….like it never happened✨

And for why the music doesnt return in this last bit with Caine on the therapy couch, im not too sure. I cant tell if its because this is also supposed to be taken seriously, or if its just cause it worked the best with the scene it just left on, but I personally….dont know. idk how serious its supposed to be taken that Caine definitely needs therapybHBEHBDEHHDEHHDE

CONCLUSIONS: MORE YAP ABOUT A FEW THINGS THAT DONT INVOLVE MUSIC BUT MORE JUST THIS SCENE IN GENERAL!!!

fucking phenomenal voice work on Alex Rochon here, im obsessed with the sudden change in tone with the line “all i’m….good at.” and then the shake in his voice, both things that we have NEVER HEARD come out of this character before….nor..expected??

and idk if its just because ive watched this scene like a hundred times and im over analyzing BUT the way Caines eyes shrink here…It feels like hes making this realization that its “all hes good at” as hes saying it, like he has never thought of it that way before, but now that he is……

AND LASTLY!!! Something about this scene in GENERAL that I dont quite understand about the common take away, is that the reason why Zooble doesn’t go on adventures is just because they arent good in Zoobles head, like they very much establish it has nothing to do with the adventures it has everything to do with them. The only reason why they bring up that “no one likes the adventures” is because thats all that Caine cares to hear about, at least from their perspective.

in real conclusion……i love Caine, Zooble, and Caines flaws.

[lyricalt]

promptfic: night

Another fill for fic_prompty, though it's my own request, haha.

tf2, sniper/spy, 'stay the night'

---

“Spend the night,” Sniper suggests, casual enough that it doesn’t seem overtly demanding or strange—like he could have suggested this to anyone.

Spy continues to put on his shirt without faltering. In truth, he feels a little too old and too tired for any sort of deep psychoanalysis on why his jaw tightens at the mere thought. He acknowledges the first truth to himself; he likes the idea. He likes the idea for multiple reasons.

One; he’s already here in the camper. Two; his ass is sore but he’s feeling warm and comfortable besides, and going out to walk back to base is a bigger pain at present. Three; Sniper.

Spy glances at him. Sniper looks like someone who doesn’t have any particular expectations, no hopeful expression or put-upon frown. Perhaps if Spy makes some type of rude comment then Sniper might have a say in the matter, kick him out and have the decision made for them both.

Spy pulls on the suit jacket. There’s a deep bite mark at his shoulder that throbs when he fixes the lapels and does up the buttons. His hands are warm despite the lack of gloves, the feel of someone else’s skin lingering on his palms. He finds that he doesn’t have it in him to be pointlessly mean. Or teasing. Not in the way that would get him kicked out, even as a joke. He drops his hands.

Spy has never stayed the night and, up until this point, Sniper has never asked. There’s a tried and true instinct in Spy to be wary. Sniper’s tone had been neutral, but the question itself sets an alarm bell off in his mind. It makes him imagine the sound of a gun’s safety being clicked off, or a knife being slid out from its sheath. Impending danger. Take caution.

There’s another mercenary instinct in him, more ingrained skill than anything; give an inch, and he’ll take a mile.

Let him stay the night once, and then it’ll be a bigger problem soon enough. Spy knows himself.

So, in answer, Spy simply gives Sniper an exhausted look. One that says, you should know better.

Sniper’s impassive expression frays at the edges. He knows exactly what he’s just given away and admitted to. His eyes go to the ceiling for a quick second, corners tightening, and Spy isn’t at his sharpest to catch whether or not Sniper is disappointed in himself, abashed, or simply rueful.

“Mm. Forget I said anything,” Sniper eventually says, leaning back on the counter. He takes a drag from the cigarette.

A perfect answer, in line with every boundary they’ve established. And yet Spy still can’t leave well enough alone. Give an inch, indeed.

“You’ll feel better about this in the morning,” Spy assures, voice quiet, but the moment the words leave his mouth, he realizes he has made an infringement of his own.

Sniper doesn’t look at him, something miserable in the way his mouth turns with the cigarette held so close.

“Right.”

[messedupfan]

Chapter 16

Summary: After finding out about your possible attendance at Tommy and Billy's big day, Vision decides to pay you a visit.

A/n: Hello! This one is short haha Also did any of y'all get to see the eclipse? Crazy!! Enjoy!

Masterlist | All Stories Taglist | All Chapters

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You and Pietro are staring at the blueprints for the building that the company has been working on. There was a measurement off on an area which has made the work halt until someone can figure out what went wrong. The two of you are trying to decipher where the issue is and what the best solution would be when Vision storms onto the job site. 

“Vision, you're not allowed to be here. You're an unauthorized civilian in a construction zone,” Pietro says as he steps around the table to prevent his former brother-in-law from moving further into the unpredictable space. 

“I'm here to speak with Y/n. I'm not leaving until I do,” he states and you aren't sure what he could possibly want with you. 

“We are trying to work,” Pietro glares at Vision. “Actual life threatening work, not standing pretty in a room full of hungover college students.” 

Vision looks at Pietro for a moment then looks back at you. “Do you have a minute?” 

Pietro is about to say something when you decide to cut in. “Just this once, Vision,” you grab a spare hard hat and plop it on his head. “Regulations, I’m sure you’ve taught your students about them.” You pat him on the back before guiding him out of the construction zone. He takes the hard hat off and roughly returns it to you as he fixes his hair. “What is so important, Vision? I’m needed inside.”

“I want you to stay away from the tournament,” he states. 

You lick your lips in thought and look past him to the job site. The concrete mixing machine is spinning and you fantasize for a moment about pushing Vision into a space and burying him in the concrete. You shake the thought away and look back at Vision. “Why would I do that? Tommy and Billy invited me.” 

“That doesn’t matter, I’m uninviting you. They are my boys and if anyone is going to be there to support them, it’s going to be me!” Vision says as he tries to intimidate you. His reasoning for keeping you away confuses you. Why does he really not want you there?

“Vision, no one is saying you can’t be there. Why are you making this a ‘it’s me or you’ thing? This isn’t about either of us, it’s about your sons. I have been helping them practice and they want to show me that our hard work has paid off. Why is that such a bad thing?” You ask, instead of agreeing to stay away. You knew that he was going to make this into a thing, but you don’t understand why it has to be. It’s not like you are dating Wanda or trying to replace him as his kids parent. You don’t understand why he has such a problem with you. 

“I know that you have been helping them. You know how I know? Because they don’t stop talking about it. I have friends and colleagues that have children in their class. What kind of father will people think I am if Tommy and Billy give you all of the credit? I don’t want them to run to you when they win. They will be running to me because you won’t be there. Understood? You are to stay away,” he says bitterly and now you understand what’s happening. He doesn’t want his image of being an involved father to be affected. It upsets you that he could easily earn that credit and praise by spending time with his kids. But he relies on everyone else doing the heavy lifting and keeping their mouths shut. You find it ridiculous. “The tournament is happening on my weekend. So I have to be there. They aren’t your kids, you can make up some excuse and not show up. Or else,” he threatens. 

“Do you have something to support your ‘or else’ or were you hoping that was enough for me to agree to cancel?” You ask, bored of this conversation. 

“Just, leave my kids alone. Okay?” Vision walks away and you sigh. You knew when you accepted the twins invitation two weeks ago, you were going to upset Vision. You didn’t realize that you were making him feel insecure as a parent. You return to work to try and push the encounter out of your mind. 

The issue turned out to be a simple adjustment. Everyone cheered because it could have been much worse. It could have taken weeks to fix. There could have been a fatal accident. It could have cost materials that would have taken weeks to replace. It could have been missed until inspection and that would have had the building demolished. The list of scenarios could go on and on. You and Pietro are more than happy about the results of an easy fix. 

You forget all about Vision's visit until during your lunch break when Pietro asks what the man wanted. “For me to stay away from Tommy and Billy’s tournament,” you shrugged. It was something you were expecting but you didn't think he would cause a scene at your place of work. 

Pietro nods and takes a bite of his food as he looks at the other crew members around the two of you. “Did he say why he doesn't want you there?” 

“Kind of? The gist of it was he's an absent father and he doesn't want the rest of the world to know that,” you shake your head and laugh a little as you think back on the conversation. “I tried to threaten me but there's nothing he can do. I'm still going.” 

Pietro makes a face, “Threaten you? How so?” 

“Well, he just said,” you clear your throat as you get ready to imitate the British man. “Stay away or else!” You roll your eyes. “It's ridiculous, he didn't have anything to say when I asked him what he would do. Because he can't do anything to me.”

“Maybe not to you, but he could do something to my sister. Or worse, he could pull the boys out of that class or make sure they don't show up to the event. I don't know.” Pietro pushes his food around his plate. “All I'm saying is that he can't do anything to you but he can do something to them. So maybe, don't go.” 

You frown as you consider Pietro's advice. He was right. Vision might not be able to touch you but he can hurt Wanda and her kids. 

Later that night, when you're picking up Rachel from Wanda's house, you feel terrible as you think of the ways Vision can hurt them and the only thing that you can do is comply and hurt them in a different way. “What's on your mind? You've been more quiet than usual,” Wanda asks as she hands you a clean plate to dry. 

“I um,” you aren't sure if you should tell her about the encounter earlier. But I'd you're considering canceling on her boys, you can't lie to her. “Vision came to see me today. He doesn't want me there to support the boys next Saturday.” 

“What?” Wanda stops scrubbing the pan she was cleaning. “Are fucking kidding me?” She scoffs as she shakes her head. She figured that Vision would come to her when he found out about you attending the event. She can't believe he dislikes you so much. She truly doesn't understand it. “What did you tell him?” 

“What I told him and what I’m considering are conflicting,” you truthfully tell her. “I don’t want Vision to do something to the boys or even become a bigger headache for you.” 

Wanda nods, she knew that whatever Vision threw at her, she could handle it. However, she agreed that the boys shouldn’t get affected by their father's tantrums. She takes a deep breath. “What are we going to tell them?” 

You are a little touched when she includes herself in this conflict. That this isn't something you have to deal with on your own. “I haven’t figured that part out yet. I wasn't sure if I should fight him or not.” 

“I know how much the boys would love to have you there but,” she sighs as she hands you the last dish. “Vision can't hurt either of us and he knows that. I don't want to believe that he would do something to hurt his kids but, let's face it. His priorities aren't exactly where they should be.” You dry the plate and set it aside as you nod. “So, we're just going to have to tell them that something came up and that you won't be able to attend. But we'll wait until the end of the week to tell them. Make it seem more urgent.” 

You nod with a deep frown. It hurts that you had to cancel on the boys. They've been so excited during the practices that you've done with them since that first night. You don't want to disappoint them but it's better that it's you and not Vision. 

On the day that you do have to break the news, Tommy called you a stupid head and said that he didn't want you there in the first place before he stormed up to his room. Billy just cried. Rachel asks you a million questions on the way home. It makes you feel terrible. Nothing could have prepared you for the heartache you felt when you said that you couldn't be there for them. 

In the middle of the week, Vision had a basket sent to your apartment with a thank you note. You tossed it in the trash. You couldn't believe that you let him win. All you could do was hope that they'd forgive you or at least forget about the let down. 

You tried to forget about it the rest of the week. On Friday, your friends want to go out so you join them. You don't drink as much as you have in the past when hanging out with them but you, Bucky, Steve, and Darcy end up staying out until close to three in the morning. The four of you had a lot of fun. The night started out at a simple bar with a few drinks then it led to one of those modern arcades with a bar. At a certain point, you noticed that  Steve and Bucky had gone missing. Darcy claimed that it happens every time she hangs out with them so you didn't question the disappearance. And when they reappeared, you were having too much fun to realize that they had switched shirts. 

Everyone ended up crashing at your place instead of going to their homes. You chose to sleep in Rachel's room to give Darcy your bed while Steve and Bucky crashed in the living room. You plugged your phone in and slipped into a dreamless sleep. 

In the next afternoon Darcy is shoving you awake. “Answer your damn phone! Some of us weren't made to sleep through natural disaster!” She grouchs as she continues to shake you. 

Groggy and discombobulated you squinted through your eyes as the bright sun shone through the blinds. You stretch and yawn as your phone starts ringing again. It's louder than you remember it ever being. You quickly answer the call before checking who it is. “Hello?” 

“Y/n, thank goodness!” Wanda says urgently. You spring up in bed, alarmed by her tone.

“What happened? What's wrong? Are you okay? Is it the boys?” You say as you get out of bed. 

“Woah, sorry, I didn't mean to scare you. I mean, it's an emergency but it's not a life threatening one,” she says, a little calmer this time. 

Your body relaxes instantly. “Sorry, I'm just waking up. I had um quite a night. Anyway… What's the emergency?” Darcy shouts that you're being too loud so you step out onto the balcony. 

“Hold on, are you with someone?” Wanda asks instead.

“No, that's just Darcy,” you say. “She spent the night because we were out late. Bucky and Steve are here as well. But ignore all of that, why are you calling?” You check the time and frown. “Shouldn't you be cheering the boys on soon?” 

“Vision dropped the boys off and disappeared,” she says. “I can't get a hold of him. Every time I call it goes straight to voicemail. I asked Tommy and Billy what he said when he dropped them off but their answer wasn't helpful. They're devastated,” she continues and it seems like she's going to say more but instead she says. “Sorry, I don't know why I called I-” 

“I'm on my way. I'll be there as soon as I can,” you interrupt before she says that she shouldn't have called you. It makes you happy that she called you for this. “I've got to get ready, I'll see you in a bit. Bye,” you hang up the phone before she can protest. 

You quickly inform Darcy that you have to leave and why. She stops you from grabbing your keys. “Not so fast boo boo the fool. You smell like sweat and booze. Shower first, I'll put together some clean clothes and then you can go play superhero.” You don't think you have time but you do have an odor and you don't look very presentable. In fact, you'd hope that they'd refuse entry to someone in your state. 

You quickly rinse off the previous night and throw on the clothes that Darcy laid out for you. Steve and Bucky are sitting at the kitchen table and Darcy is making them coffee as you pass them. “Darcy, you have my spare right? Please lock up before you leave.” 

“What? Why does Darcy have a spare and I don't?” Steve asks, offended. “We've been friends longer.” 

Darcy taps his head, “Hush, they’re on a mission.” She looks up at you with an innocent smile as Steve scratches his head. “Don't worry, I'll be sure to lock up. Now go, go!” 

You thank her before racing out of the building. When you arrive, you find Wanda consoling her boys with their Sensei. Someone steps out of the gym and when the door opens you can hear that the event has already started. You jog over to Wanda. “Hey, I'm sorry I'm late. Traffic was just,” you don't get to finish your excuse because Billy crashes against you and greets you with a tight hug. You wrap your arms around him. “Hey buddy, it's alright,” you say gently as you carefully pry him off of you. “What are you doing out here? Shouldn't you be in there kicking butt?” You ask as you level with him. 

Billy wipes his tears, “I couldn't because I was sad.” 

You frown, “Sad? Why were you sad?” You move some of his hair out of his face and pull a bandana out of your pocket to help wipe his tears out of his prescription goggles. 

“Because my daddy didn't want to be here and neither did you,” he admits and your heart drops to the pit of your stomach. 

You shake your head. “That’s not,” you sigh and look behind him to Wanda standing beside Tommy, he is giving you his best death glare that reminds you a lot of Vision. “I’m sorry that I made you think that, Billy. I thought that there was something more important but I was wrong. Nothing is more important than seeing you and your brother compete today.”

“Really?” Billy squeaks as his eyes start to brighten up a bit. You can see so much of Wanda in him. You grin as you nod. 

“Billy, sometimes we are given two choices and I don't always pick the right one. But you are smarter than me. So I'm going to give you,” you point to his chest as you speak, “two choices. Number one, you can quit now and we can all go home. We might watch a movie but there will be nothing to show for it. Or number two, you can show everyone in that room what your Sensei has taught you and what we have worked on together. You and your brother could win trophies and get new belts and then we can go out to celebrate. Which one do you think you should pick?” You try to make one option seem a little more appealing than the other to try and get him inside. 

Billy looks at you then to his mom, then to his instructor, and lastly, he looks to his brother. “Do you want to?” Tommy had his arms crossed over his chest with an angry frown and a deep scowl. You could tell that between the two, he was the one that refused to perform. His way of having control over the situation. Something that he was learning from his father. If you don't give him what he wants, he tries to take something away. In this case, he's not getting his father's approval so he's making it so that they don't participate. It hurts Vision’s image, which isn't something that Tommy knows much about. He can't stop playing his father's words over and over in his head, don't embarrass me. 

Tommy steps forward, “If we go in there, are you going to stay?” 

“I'm going to stay,” you promise. His features soften and he grabs his brother's hand and takes him over to their Sensei. The three walk through the double doors and run to their corner. Wanda walks over and gives you a tight hug, much like Billy had. 

“Thank you so much,” she says into your chest. 

“Wanda, as much as I love being in your arms, you're holding me back from keeping my promise,” you say as you give her a quick squeeze in return. 

“Just a second longer,” she says before she finally releases you. “You are incredible,” she says as she leads you inside. A volunteer stops you from walking further. 

“Do you have a ticket?” She asks with a bright smile. You quickly pull your wallet out of your pocket. 

“No, I don't actually,” you say but Wanda stops you. 

“Nonsense, after what you did for my kids, I've got you covered,” Wanda hands the woman her debit card despite your protests.

“Okay, you two are good to go,” she says then she pulls out a clipboard with a sheet of names and contact information. “I'm also supposed to ask if you would like to sign this petition to get more funding for programs like these. Is that something that you would be interested in?” The woman is a little more flirtatious in her approach and you are thrown off. You size her up as she is clearly eyeing you and you smile at her politely. She bites her lip as she leans a little forward to expose a bit of cleavage. 

“Sure, I love to support a good cause,” you say as you take the clipboard and pen to write down your name and phone number. She asks you a couple of more questions before you and Wanda are able to walk away. 

“That girl wants a date with you,” Wanda mutters once the two of you are sitting in the stands. “I’m assuming one without any clothes.” You shake your head with a laugh.

“Please, it was just a tactic to get my signature,” you say as you lean in close so she can hear you. 

“Oh. So I should judge you because it worked on you?” Wanda asks in a playful tone but there is a layer of truth. 

“No, I just thought the cause was worth supporting. What you should be concerned about right now is that Billy is up next,” you say as you point to the floor where Billy is stepping onto the mat. Wanda reaches for your hand and holds it in a tight grip. You don’t pull away, more than happy to give her some sort of comfort. You felt just as nervous watching Billy out there. You record as much of the match as possible. Something for Wanda to send to Vision or people in her family that couldn’t be there. 

In the middle of the tournament, your stomach starts to growl and ache painfully. You excuse yourself to buy some snacks at the concession stand. Because neither of her boys are on the mat, Wanda watches you from her seat. On your way back to the stands, the woman stops you for what looks like a quick chat. She cleanches her jaw when the woman touches your arm as she laughs at something you said. She tries to ignore the pang of jealousy she feels as you continue to talk to the woman. You come back to her side when Tommy stands up to enter the mat. When you return, Wanda pulls you close to her and her eyes search for the red haired woman. As soon as she makes eye contact with her, Wanda wraps her arm around your waist and steals some of your popcorn. You laugh because you notice her odd behavior but you don’t question it. Not as much as Wanda is. 

When the event is over, Tommy and Billy run to you to show off their awards. You give them high fives and tell them how proud you are. Wanda gives them hugs as she tells them the same. Then they take your hand and race you over to their friends. She puts their prizes in her tote bag as she gets ready to leave. Tommy and Billy have other plans. They have you show each of them how to do the moves you managed to teach them in the past few weeks. Wanda stands back and watches with a wide smile. She snaps a few pictures as she watches but she doesn’t want to view the moment from her phone screen.

“Excuse me,” the volunteer from earlier says quietly to Wanda. “Hi, my name is Nebula and I just wanted to apologize for flirting with your partner earlier. I consider myself to be a girls girl and I didn’t realize that you two were together,” she rambles and Wanda holds her hands up to stop the girl. 

“Slow down, we’re just friends,” Wanda corrects her. The words feel wrong coming out of her mouth but she couldn’t stop them. It was like an automatic response every time someone implied that you and her are a couple. 

“Oh,” Nebula fails to stop the smile from growing on her face. “Is Y/n seeing someone?” She turns to watch you playing with the kids. 

“No. No, they are single,” Wanda knew this girl was being friendlier to you than just getting another signature for a petition. She didn’t want to be the one giving Nebula this information. But no matter what she was feeling, she wasn’t going to sabotage you. 

Nebula nods as she continues to watch you. “Do you think they will be creeped out if I use their information from the petition to contact them?”

Wanda watches the girl for a moment and thinks about telling her to back off. That if anyone should be asking you out, it should be her. But was Wanda ready for a relationship beyond physical pleasures? She doesn’t know. And because she doesn’t know, she wasn’t going to gatekeep you. Just in case she isn’t ready for a long time. “I think maybe that’s exactly how you should do that. I’ll get to win a bet if you do,” Wanda says jokingly. 

Nebula nods and nudges Wanda with her shoulder, “I’ve got you. Make it a good bet.” She winks, “Thank you. I hope to see you around soon.” 

“I’ll give the toast at the wedding,” Wanda jokes again and Nebula walks away laughing. 

“Oh, would you look at that, I think she had her eyes on you this whole time,” you say as you walk up to Wanda with both boys wrapped around and hanging onto each of your legs. Wanda shakes her head. 

“You’d like that wouldn’t you?” She steps closer to you and puts her hand on your shoulder. “Let’s get these two some ice cream,” she says loudly and the boys let go of your legs to jump up and down as they cheer. She messes with their hair and tells them to go wait by her car. They start to shove each other on their way out of the building as they race each other. 

“Still no word from Vision?” You ask as you scrape the sides of your cup to get every last bit of chocolate ice cream out of the cup. Wanda checks her phone and continues to shake her head to see the lack of responses from Vision. She eats her ice cream and gets some of it on her nose. You wipe it off with your thumb and smile. “Mmm, maybe I should have gotten that flavor instead,” you say as you lick the ice cream off of your thumb. She smiles back at you.

Tommy and Billy are running around the playground while you and Wanda sit on a bench and watch them play. “I don't know if I should take them home with me or drop them off at Vision’s house. I don't know how Vision will react because I'm not even sure why he didn't show up.” 

Your smile drops and you look away from her as you shake your head. “I can't believe after the tantrum he threw that he wasn't there for them. He sent me a thank you basket. Which, I don't want to know how he got my address to begin with-” 

“He is unbelievable and I am going to be tied to that man for the rest of my life,” she shakes her head again. 

“They're pretty great reasons to be tied to him though,” you compliment the boys, making Wanda smile as she watches them chase each other around. 

“They are,” she says and then she looks at you. “Will you join us for dinner? I'm thinking that we should go somewhere nice.” 

You look at her and when your eyes meet, you want to kiss her. The only thing keeping you from doing that is the fact that her kids could witness it and ask questions that you're not prepared to answer. “Um, yeah, I’d love to. As long as we split the bill.” 

Wanda considers insisting on paying for everything but that's not what will catch your interest. It's not a collection of times she has done something for you and you have done things for her. Leaving an imbalance of power between the two of you always. No, you are someone that seeks equal partnership. “Fine by me,” she says. 

Your phone goes off and Wanda's heart jumps in her throat from the anticipation. She hoped that the Nebula girl hadn't decided to reach out so soon. “It's a grocery list from Darcy,” you say as another message comes through. “And she and the guys have finally vacated the premise,” you laugh as you respond to the messages. She didn't realize she was holding in her breath until you spoke. Wanda relaxes as she continues eating her ice cream. 

“They’ve been at your apartment this entire time?” Wanda asks with a light laugh of her own. 

“Apparently, and now I'm all out of food,” you shake your head.

During dinner, Wanda has to excuse herself to take a call from Vision. You distract the boys by being silly to make them laugh, then you ask each of them to tell you about their week since you haven't seen them since last Friday. They go on and on about assignments that they enjoyed or hated. Like how Tommy is bummed about a book report but that Billy is ecstatic about it. He’s already read every book on the list, which he conveniently avoided telling the teacher. In gym class, there is a push up challenge that Billy isn’t thrilled about at all but Tommy is more than ready for. They talk about some playground drama where you find out that your daughter has been married and divorced three times throughout the week. You laugh when you find out that she's currently married to a girl named Kate in their class. 

You fondly remember your days in primary school when you were officiating weddings for Jean. She married half the class by the end of the school year. But she never married you back then. She told you that one day she would and then she kissed you on your tear stained cheeks. 

When Wanda returns she looks frustrated and you feel for her in her situation. “That was your dad,” she starts as she sits down. “He will be by the house tomorrow with your school bags but you're staying with me tonight.” She can't look at her boys as she stabs her food with her fork. She was still very worked up over the conversation. Billy puts his hand on her arm and she nearly breaks. 

“Wanda, do you want to know a trick I use to make water taste really good?” You ask her as you hold your glass up. She looks at you with a fragile expression before she takes your cue. She grabs her cup and you show her the trick you've learned over the years of how to drink something in order to avoid crying. It seems to work and she compliments that the water does taste better. The boys don't believe it so they try it and their brains trick them into believing the technique did anything to change the flavor. 

“Thank you,” Wanda mouths when she has calmed down. You shrug in response as the meal continues on. 

After dinner, you follow Wanda to her house with Tommy in your car and Billy in hers. He wanted to make sure that you came to their house to play video games and because you wanted to earn their trust, you agreed to drive with Tommy in the car. Wanda thought it was sweet that you cared this much about her boys. 

The four of you play three different multiplayer games together. Some rounds were kids versus adults and others you and Wanda would team up with one of the twins. The games went on until nine at night and that's when the kids wanted to watch a movie. You and Wanda sat at opposite ends of the couch with both boys sitting in the middle. When they both went quiet Wanda recruited you to help her take them to their beds. 

Once the two were settled in their beds you helped Wanda with cleaning up the mess in the living room by taking care of the cups while she reset the gaming setup. Putting controllers to charge and setting game cases on the game shelf in the cabinet. When all is said and done Wanda walks you to your car. 

“Thank you for today,” she says as she stands close to you with her hands in her back pockets. “You'll have to let me know if that girl messages you. I have a lot riding on that bet,” she jokes but her eyes look at both of yours and then land on your mouth. You've heard about this tactic, it's a signal to let you know she wants to kiss you. Suddenly you feel a little nervous. Any kiss the two of you shared could be dismissed with being under the influence or having heightened emotions. But right now, there wouldn't be any excuse. There would just be. 

It was a terrifying thought. 

“I’m sure you'd be devastated to lose the chance to choose my next haircut,” you retort as you lean in closer to her. Even when you're talking about a potential relationship with another woman, the only person on your mind is Wanda. The two of you gravitate towards each other until your lips meet. The kiss is short but meaningful. She smiles at you when the both of you break away before she bites her lower lip. You smile back at her as she steps away from you. “I'll see you later?” You ask as you open the door to your truck. 

Wanda nods, “Yeah, I'll um, I'll see you later.” 

“Okay,” you say softly. “Goodnight, Wanda. Sweet dreams.” 

“Sweet dreams, Y/n” she repeats and waves goodbye as you climb into your truck. She watches you drive away from the front door. She decides then that she doesn't need to be exploring her sexuality anymore. None of the people she sleeps with make her feel nearly as alive as that simple kiss did. As she lies in her bed, she goes through all of her dating apps and deletes every single one of them. She doesn't need them anymore.

Chapter 17

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[hrts4hanniehae]

The Tag - GOSE

*this is not a representation of the members of svt irl. y/n race and character type will be pre-determined to allow for a better plot.

*Various Episodes can be requested, I've chosen my favourites

masterlist / GOSE masterlist

It so happened that… Y/N ended up being the one going alone.

“WHY ME?? YAH!” - Y/N

“HAHAHHA Y/N!!” - Seungkwan

“This… this isn’t right…” - Y/N

Actually… Y/N had a secret mission. To scare as many people as possible.

-Off-screen-

Staff: Sorry, Y/N! Do you mind coming here for a while? There was a mistake with your wardrobe and your mic has a lot of feedback!

Y/N: Oh yeah, sure. 

Staff: We’ll send her inside last, okay?

-

Y/N: For my high school’s school festival event, I acted as Sadako in a haunted house. So for today’s episode, I’ll surprise as many people as possible. :) 

-Jun, Woozi, Vernon & Dino-

Dino: YAH I JUST SAW SOMEONE CRAWLING ON THE GROUND!!!

Jun: WHERE???

Woozi: A woman in a white dress right? I saw her too.

Vernon: Whoa whoa whoa…

-Jeonghan & Wonwoo-

Wonwoo: There was a woman in that room.

Jeonghan: She must be one of the actors.

Staff: We only have male actors inside. (Not a lie, Y/N isn’t an actor)

Everyone: Ooooh…

-Seungkwan & Mingyu-

Seungkwan looks outside the window

Jun: What’s that behind him?

Dino: YAH HYUNG BEHIND YOU!

And the figure disappears. 

Jeonghan: Yah! You all saw that, right? 

-Hoshi and Joshua didn’t stumble across Y/N at all-

-The8-

The8: Oh! There’s someone here.

Y/N (to her camera): I think I’ll leave him alone :) 

-DK & S.Coups-

DK: YAH YAH YAH YAH GO AWAY

S.Coups: SOMETHING JUST RAN ACROSS

There were so many screams from DK, almost making Y/N break character. 

-Y/N’s turn?-

Mingyu: Y/N is last? 

S.Coups: Her mic and wardrobe fixing took quite a while.

Jeonghan: Are you sure there were actually problems?

Wonwoo: Wait what if she was the ghost?

Vernon: Ahh! That makes sense! 

Dino: Eyyy… She scared me so badly… 

Y/N: Surprise haha!

Dino: Noona! Why would you do that to us!!

Seungkwan: Wah… seriously, Y/N-yah… never again…

Jeonghan: Wait were you behind Seungkwan in that room?

Y/N: What room? I only stayed in the main areas. I was scared of getting lost. I didn't see Seungkwan, actually. Only Mingyu.

Woozi: Oh that's scary...

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