#((so it kind of became canon in my mind~))

[aroacettorney]

perhaps the reason why aup ended like *that* is because it was not supposed to have a happy ending in the first place, but sayren didnt have the guts to deal with readers' backlash for when they finally kill off the main character so a half baked happy ending is what we get 😔

[ltleflrt]

Figuring out I'm on the ace spectrum was so difficult because I have always been a horny bitch. I knew what sex was at a fairly young age, because I'd asked my mom and she's one of those good parents who'll answer questions like those, and as I grew older and would ask more complex questions, her answers would evolve along with my curiosity and understanding of the world. And I remember having fantasies as young as 9 or 10 years old, even if they were hella vague and nothing close to what sex actually is lol

So as I became a teenager, and all my friends' focus turned from playing with dolls to flirting with boys, I automatically thought I was attracted to boys. And I paid more attention to Cute Boys than I did to Cute Girls, because girls were just nice to look at while boys were People To Have Crushes On. Because of heteronormativity. Looking back on it now, I know there were girls I liked to stare at just as intently as boys, although less often because I wasn't trying to pay attention. And I certainly didn't fantasize about girls because I started reading romance novels in 5th grade, so I was fantasizing about male romantic partners because that was the fiction I was consuming. I didn't even realize fantasizing about girls was possible until I was 17, and I had a few "am I a lesbian" internal crises for years because of it.

So when I did start having sex, I had A LOT OF IT with SO MANY different guys, and eventually a couple of women once I started accepting that bisexuality was real. But it was never really fulfilling. Not like my fantasies were. Not like my books were. I was slutty because sex was fun, I was horny, there were plenty of options so I kept searching for that satisfaction I was craving.

Getting married was a relief (even though it turns out I'm aro-spec too lol) because I was tired of hunting, and even if sex with my husband was meh, at least I had someone around to scratch that itch if I had it, and he didn't mind if I occasionally took care of things on my own because I'd read an especially hot scene in a romance.

I learned about asexuality in my early 20s, but I brushed it off. Couldn't be me, I'm far too horny for that. But I think that comes from the fact that everything you hear about Aces is attached to sex-repulsion or sex-indifference. I wasn't either of those things. I was horny all the dang time. I was fantasizing about sex all the dang time. I figured actual sex was meh because my imagination was so vivid that real life could never match up. Which could be true to an extent, but I think not as much as popular opinion would have us believe. If fantasy was really that much better for everyone, then I think we'd have less incels and unplanned pregnancies than we do.

In my 30s I finally saw people talking about The Spectrum, and I started examining my past, and I figured out I wasn't really attracted to anyone I had sex with. I do occasionally find someone attractive; there are men and women and enbies who make my skin feel tight and give me a little wave of lightheadedness lol... but it's always always the fantasy that gets me really going. If given the opportunity I wouldn't have sex with any of those people. Thank you, but no thank you, I'd rather just imagine it than physically participate in the act with them.

(Ok I might go down on them, but that's less about wanting sex, and more about being able to add them to my Tally. Hell yeah I want to brag about making *insert hot person* have an orgasm. There's PRIDE in that kind of accomplishment lol)

I have a lot of respect for aces that are not horny. I understand it even if I don't share the sentiment. And I feel like most of them understand me even if they don't share the sentiment. There's a solidarity between us.

Until I go into a fandom tag for a character that the aces have glommed onto because they're canonically ace or headcanoned as ace. Good lord, the non-horny aces can turn into downright vicious bastards if a horny ace sexualizes their blorbo.

This post is for them.

Horny aces exist. Please look up "autochorissexual, lithosexual, and aegosexual."

Refer to those definitions in regards to romantic attraction as well as sexual attraction.

Some aces may not fall into one of those definitions, because asexuality is a spectrum, but they may still be horny.

Horny aces are not disrespecting you by enjoying being horny on main. We promise we'll wash the stickiness off our hands before we hold your hands in queer solidarity.

And most importantly: Your blorbo is fictional and does not need to be defended from icky sexuality. They exist in an infinite multiverse, so your blorbo and my blorbo are not the same, even if they appear to be on the surface.

AND:

This post is also for the people who are confused about themselves because they're horny but don't actually feel attraction. You're not crazy, you're not wishy washy, you're not "waiting for the right person to come along" (unless you are, in which case I hope you find them). You're just a thin strip of color on a massive rainbow that holds more unique shades than anyone can perceive at a glance.

You're valid. You're one of us too.

And don't be mean to the non-horny aces. Tag your smut so they can avoid it. (But actually so I can find it lol)

[yandere-writer-momo]

Yandere Head Canons:

Your Loyal Servant

Yandere Villainess/ Maid x Isekai Princess Fem Reader

TW: obsession, reader is trapped in the girl love/ GL book, DARK CONTENT, horror, yandere themes, cannibalism (reader consumes blood), SOMNIAPHILIA/ NONCON (nipple play), creepy behavior, abuse of power, betrayal, sapphic yearning, etc.

Della was once a princess of the shadow kingdom before she became your servant. A princess with dreams of ruling her kingdom until your kingdom invaded and decimated her home when she was eight. Your family’s knights easily seized her throne since her father had been greedy and tried to conquer your kingdom first. She could never forget the fire and death she saw that day… the day she was dragged up by her black locks and thrown into a cage on a cart to be sold off as a slave. The day her emotions died and left her an empty vessel.

Yet you were her saving grace. You were at the auction that day and you insisted to your butler that you had to buy her. “She’s my age! She can’t possibly become a slave, she’ll die!”

At first, Della was weary of you. Her small body curled up in her cage as she cowered in a fetal position. Did you purchase her to satiate some sort of sick sadistic tendency of yours? To rub in your family’s victory in her face? Della despised you… until you innocently smiled at her. Your hand outstretched to her dirty ones when your purchase was a success. “My name is (your name), what’s yours?”

And despite her current status of being a commoner, you never treated Della like one. You let her take baths with you and held her hand. You always requested her to lay beside you at night for a ‘sleepover.’ Della thought you were strange.

You often invited her for walks in your garden with you and shared your woes with her. Sometimes you’d even sneak her sweets from the tea parties you had to attend. If Della didn’t know any better, she’d say the two of you were friends. Best friends. Yet she never saw you as such. Your conversations were typically one sided.

“Della, I want you to be by my side until I’m old. Can you do that?” You were twelve when you made that request to her. Your maid smiled softly at you.

“Of course, mistress.” You puffed out your cheeks and pouted at her.

“It’s (your name)! You don’t have to be so formal with me all the time. Aren’t we friends?” Della just hummed which only made you sigh. All these years together and Della was still as stiff as a board. It would take years to tear down the walls around Della’s heart despite your attempts to be close to her… it made you terribly sad that you couldn’t tell Della your true secret. The secret that you were from another world trapped in the body of the original heroine, but you doubted she’d believe you. After all, you made it your goal to not die at the hands of this GL novel’s ice cold villainess. You did your absolute best not to let Della fall into depravity and turn to dark magic like she was supposed to in this doomed Yuri novel. You were on a mission to insure her happiness! At least not until you were ready to free her from servitude once you were married off with a nice sum of money. You didn’t want her to suffer…“I will always have your best interest in mind, Della. I just wished you’d see that…”

Even when the two of you grew older, you still insisted on spending time with Della. It often gave the poor maid a headache but she never complained. You were her mistress no matter how much she wanted to ring your pretty little neck with her hands. No matter how much your kindness secretly touched her heart. She was your loyal servant.

Della often found her cheeks flushed when the two of you became teenagers. She couldn’t believe you’d still try to get her to bathe you or lay beside you in bed. You two were practically adults now! That was indecent! Had you no shame as a lady?! Yet another thought couldn’t help but crawl into the back of Della’s mind. Was there a possibility you were attracted to her? The thought didn’t entirely bother Della. Most of the women in the empire were with other women so it wouldn’t be strange… right?

You often rained down compliments on Della but she hardly responded to them. She was still taciturn and stoic. You often felt as if you were conversing with a rock rather than your self-appointed ‘best friend.’ It made you feel even more lonely as the years went on. Were you doing this all for naught? Would Della still murder you like she would in the book? You hoped not! You still haven’t met your favorite character! The female lead! Except you weren’t the original, naive female lead that would be offed by the villainess…

As the two of you approached adulthood, you promoted her to head maid. Yet she still remained close to your side. You no longer asked her to bathe you or asked for ‘sleepovers,’ you were more lady like now. You also ceased with your compliments to her and her work, a small fact that bothered Della a bit. Didn’t you like her still? Why were you being so different?

Meanwhile you were antsy. The ball was coming up and you’d soon meet the female lead! She was a holy knight and she’d be the one to save the empire from the forces of evil… she was so cool and muscular! A butch from your sapphic dreams! You felt yourself internally fan girl out of excitement. Yet you didn’t want to express that to Della. No, you’d still remain civil with your maid since she didn’t seem to care much for your companionship…

Della brushed your hair as you sat on your stool, your hands in your lap as you hummed a soft tune to yourself.

And that’s when you dropped a bomb on Della. “I really enjoyed Stephanie’s cooking yesterday. Could you ask her to make me food again?” Stephanie? The new cook? What was so great about her cooking that made you praise her? Della was the one who doted on you. Della was the one who always took care of you.

“Ouch!” You jumped when Della accidentally tugged on your hair. “Della, that hurt-“ Your heart stopped in your chest when you glanced up at the look on Della’s face. Her eyes held a murderous glint in them which made you shudder. Oh god… was she going to hurt you?

Della snapped out of it the instant she heard your voice, she quickly bent down to make sure you were okay, but you swatted her hands away. “I’m sorry, Della… I can finish getting ready by myself.”

Della felt her world crash around her. She hadn’t meant to pull your hair… don’t kick her out. Please don’t do this… yet she couldn’t bring herself to say anything. She instead, bit her lips and bowed her head to you. She then rushed out of your room in haste. It wasn’t until Della rounded the corner of the hall that one of the other maids pointed out that her lips were bleeding.

Della absentmindedly touched her lips and frowned. Never had she been so emotional… yet all these feelings were brought out by you. Her princess… her princess that she wanted to serve forever.

“Where is Stephanie?” Della softly asked the maid who quirked a brow. The maid told Della the location of the cook in a confused tone, “oh, she’s in the kitchen. Why?” Della just gave the maid a smile. “I just have a message for her is all.”

Yes… she was the head maid so she could use that to her advantage. She’d get the ginger bitch fired. You should only compliment Della. No one else mattered.

You were surprised when a plate was placed in front of you by Della. This wasn’t Stephanie’s cooking… this looked like Della’s. “Oh? What’s this?”

“Your favorite.” Della replied in her usual stiff tone. The maid poured you a cup of your favorite tea as well. Della wasn’t wrong but you couldn’t help but feel a bit suspicious of her. Where was Stephanie? Oh well… you’d eat your meal.

Della’s green eyes studied you as she watched you eat the meal without complaint. Your face scrunched up when the meat had a bit of a strong iron taste to it, but you kept eating. Della played with the bloody bandages on her fingers as her smile grew wide. She hoped you liked the way she tasted. What better way to stay with you forever than to give you some of her blood?

When you retired for the night, Della snuck into your room to lay beside you. Her olive hands snuck under your dress to cup your chest. Her fingers pinched your nipples to see your cute reactions. She hadn’t realized how sensitive you were… did you need her to take care of your body’s needs? She’d do it. Della would do anything you asked of her… just don’t throw her away. Della pushed your dress up as she licked her lips at the sight of your bare body. What a dirty girl you were to not wear undergarments… perhaps she’d teach you a thing or two about being indecent?

You woke up the next day with sore nipples. They were a bit swollen and red and you couldn’t figure out why. You nearly cried when you accidentally touched one. Did you have an allergic reaction to your meal yesterday? No… this was just so odd.

Della dutifully entered your room and began to help you get dressed. Her green eyes filled with satisfaction from her handiwork on your nipples. You seemed so confused… like a little lamb. Della thought it was so cute.

Della began to order the other maids to work far away from you. She needed to get you to alone so she could express her feelings for you properly… so none of the other servants knew she was going to fuck you. She didn’t want any rumors to spread about her darling princess! Della would be a horrible maid if she did that…

You were a bit shocked with how touchy Della was throughout the week. She was stuck to you like a shadow now. And you had yet to see another servant other than Della attend to your needs. You found it so odd…

“Della? Where are all my personal maids?” You asked as you sat on your stool. Della scowled for a brief second before she recovered to her usual icy exterior.

“You only need me, my princess. They’re all inferior.” You froze and turned your body around to look at your maid.

“Pardon?” You’re shocked when Della’s hands grab your face. “D-Della-“

Della presses her lips to yours in a passionate kiss. Her large chest pressed against yours as she pushed you against your vanity. You’re absolutely mind boggled at this development. What was happening?! You thought Della hated you.

“Princess… my princess.” Della whispered against your lips as she reached a hand to undo her bun. Her black curls now cascaded down her back like a cape. “I’m your forever servant and only I can properly fulfill your needs. And I mean all of your needs.”

You gasped when she yanked your legs up onto her shoulders. Your eyes widened in confusion until your face flushed in realization. Della didn’t hate you… Della was obsessed with you.

“So let me please you properly, princess. I swear I won’t disappoint you.”

[wheredidhiseyebrowsgo]

Hi, I was stalking you a little and discovered this https://href.li/?https://archiveofourown.org/works/949418 fic where Stiles is accidentally seducing Derek acting like a ideal mate without even knowing and I was wondering if you had other fics like this one.

Even if you don't I want to thank you for your hard work! Ganbatte kudasai!

Hi @nenehyuuchiha! I think so.

You're Turning Heads When You Walk Through The Door by Sheynora

(1/5 I 7,612 I Explicit)

Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence:

Kate knows the weak link in the Hale Pack.

It'll be easy; seduce Derek and use his love to destroy the pack. Only... this loud-mouthed, klutz named Stiles keeps getting in the way. Derek can't notice Kate if he's too busy noticing Stiles.

Damn Stiles for being so sexy

---------------------------------

Or the AU where the Hale Fire didn't happen, but Kate Argent plans to make it happen. Except Stiles and his accidental sexiness keep ruining Kate's plans to seduce Derek.

***

Cause I Built A Home (For You, For Me) by nymphe

(1/1 I 6,860 I Teen)

Erica is giggling somewhere in the background. “I think he’d like exactly what you’d like, mom.”

Or, a 5 Times fic wherein Stiles doesn’t realize he’s been accidentally co-parenting a gang of furry teenagers/displaying Perfect Mate Characteristics, + the 1 Time Derek enlightens him.

Wanted and Wounded by RoxyRosee

(3/3 I 12,781 I Explicit)

Derek can't seem to get off. It's been days with no luck, and he's constantly on edge. But then pack night rolls around, and when Stiles falls into him as he goes to sit down on the couch, Derek is suddenly coming, right where he sits.

Turns out, Stiles is his mate. And among a whole slew of embarrassing side effects to this whole "mate" thing is the fact that Derek will never again be able to have an orgasm without Stiles by his side.

So yeah, Derek's life kind of sucks right now.

Try To See It My Way by Phantomlimb

(19/19 I 24,577 I Mature)

Derek has no fucking clue about what to do. He doesn't know how to woo someone. Let alone if that someone is Stiles

The Boy Is Mine, You Bonkers! by frownypup

(3/3 I 35,535 I Explicit)

It turns out that the words ‘a painfully smart and brave unclaimed human who is stupidly unutilized in Beacon Hill’s pack’ became the hottest gossip in werewolf underground. Yes, what the hell. Stiles’ existence has changed from a plankton to a rising sun.

Derek Hale has something he needs to say about it.

for a good time, call... by EvanesDust 

(10/10 I 46,841 I Explicit)

Stiles unlocks his phone to send out a quick text asking his father what he wants to eat, even though he’ll get salad regardless, and notices a strange number on his recent call log.

His face scrunches in confusion before realization dawns on him.

Oh shit.

Events from the night before peek through the hazy fog of his mind. Stiles thought, or he was hoping, that the phone call was a dream. But there it is, staring at him in the face—a one minute and 57-second call to an unfamiliar number.

Oh God.

Did he seriously call someone—possibly an alpha werewolf!—for phone sex?

...Or the one where Stiles drunk dials a very grumpy alpha werewolf and propositions him for phone sex. Hilarity, misunderstandings, and feelings ensue.

[morning-star-joy]

Do you ever plan on writing maybe a little pregnancy one shot for our ASHWAH babies? 🥺🫶🏽

So I did actually write a little something playing with the idea last year, but it got buried in my docs and I forgot about it until now! Not an actual pregnancy, but just a short drabble of Joel thinking about it. Here it is!

give you my wild, give you a child

Pairing: Joel x F!Reader, ASHWAH Universe

Summary: Joel imagines another kind of life.

Warnings/Tags: 18+ MDNI Mentions of previous smut. Joel is a breeding kink legend. Thoughts of pregnancy and body changes through pregnancy. Pregnancy kink.

Wordcount: 1k

A/N: Just a gentle reminder that ASHWAH pregnancy is not canon! It's just an AU exploration, and you do not have to consider it their ending if you don't want it to be. Any direct sequel won't have it <3

Important: Please read this post before engaging with any of my fics. How you can help Palestine.

Joel was trying hard not to think about it.

He had been trying so very hard not to think about it for months now.

But she was making that an extremely difficult task.

Especially with the way she was holding Hope right now, balancing Tommy’s one-year-old daughter on her knees, gently bouncing her up and down with a bright smile at the baby’s giggles that filled the air.

It was one of the many times the two had taken up babysitting their goddaughter, while Tommy and Maria got some much needed rest. But each time Hope was in their house—because that’s what it was now, their house, as she had hardly left it since that night in front of the fireplace when they had finally given into each other—Joel felt an ache in his chest.

That ache slowly grew into an unfamiliar longing, one that only deepened whenever the baby was balanced on her hip as she talked to the child, or rocked her to sleep in her arms.

Joel wasn’t an idiot. He knew how impractical it was, even with how happy they all were to have Hope in their lives.

He knew it wasn’t even something that she really wanted, or at least not the last time they had actually talked about it.

God, no, had been the words she sputtered when he had off-handedly asked her about it in Hope’s nursery a year before, long before they had fallen for each other as fully, as completely as they did.

But he knew how much their goddaughter meant to her, how much her natural instinct of a protector kicked in around the baby, much like his own.

And then there was that one night, when she had worn that lace that he still dreamed about, a memory that possessed his mind whenever they were apart. The way it laid against her skin, sticking to her cunt with her own release when she rode his thigh with a desperation that only became needier when he slipped his cock inside her, and words he’d never forget fell from her lips.

You’d like to put your baby in me, hm?

He’d nearly lost his goddamn mind when she said it, fucking into her with abandon, filthy words he’d never even dreamed of uttering to her streaming from his lips.

And she fucking loved it, begged for it, that pussy that he worshipped squeezing his cock tighter than he’d ever felt as she came from the promises he made of filling her up until it took.

So maybe…

No, Joel thought firmly, trying to cut off that line of thought before his mind could wander down it again, like it had every time they’d taken care of his brother’s child the past few months. He had to stop his brain from concocting an image that was far too sweet, too innocent and idealistic to ever be true.

But as she lifted Hope into the air, grinning up at the baby with a softness on her face he never saw with anybody else—he wondered.

He wondered how she would look with another child in her arms, a precious life made up of both of theirs. Maybe one with his strong nose, and her sharp eyes. Or his stern brow, and her striking hair.

Her hair that he so loved to admire night after night, along with every inch of her, his hands gently running over the body that had become a home to him, while she drifted off to sleep under his familiar touch.

As his fingers skimmed across her chest and down to her stomach some nights, Joel imagined if by some bizarre twist of fate, after one of their heated moments of passion where they got carried away in him filling her up, that it did take.

He pictured the swell of her breasts as she lay naked in their bed; soft, tantalizing flesh that would only grow fuller. The same way her whole body would slowly change, her stomach rounder because of him, as she—

“Joel?”

Blinking rapidly, he was pulled sharply from his silly daydreams, shaking his head to bring himself back to the present and focus on the love of his life as she stood in front of him.

Her eyebrow was arched as she looked over him with a question in those piercing eyes. Hope was balanced on her hip, the baby’s fingers gripping onto her hair, and Joel’s breath caught in his throat. He keenly felt that ache of longing again as she gently removed the small, chubby fingers from her hair and held out the baby to him.

“Can you hold her for a bit?” she asked, and Joel accepted Hope into his arms without question, even though in the back of his mind he kept picturing how it would feel to pass that child from his imagination, the one with some unique mix of their features, between them. “Gotta pee.”

Joel huffed out a quiet laugh, mumbling an affirmative, “No problem.”

Still, she watched him for a moment longer, glancing over his face before leaning in to kiss him on the cheek.

“Your mind’s a mile away today,” she mumbled, pulling back to move away, but not before Joel could wrap his free arm around her waist. He brought her back in for a proper kiss, no matter how quick the peck on the lips was so she could run to the bathroom.

“My bad,” he said quietly, avoiding her gaze to look down at Hope, even as he felt the familiar intensity of being analyzed by his woman before she moved away.

“Let me see inside your head later,” she called over her shoulder, her voice only half-teasing as she moved towards the bathroom. “I wanna see what has my man so far from planet earth.”

Joel stiffened, holding his breath until he heard the bathroom door close, and only then did he exhale sharply, lifting one hand from where he had brought Hope securely against his chest to rub his thumb and forefinger across his eyes.

Fuck.

[drenched-in-sunlight]

since I’m drawing more of them, here is a bit of background for my x2 Prowler PunkFlower AU (mix of comic and animated canon and my own delulu):

- Hobart started out in a life of crime because he felt trapped by his circumstances (this follows the comic canon, he is the youngest of 9 siblings, but his dad left early, mom was an alcoholic, and eventually even his big brother left. Even though he was a tech genius, he struggled to make a living). Then after his right hand was injured after a job for Kingpin, he was saved by Peter (let’s say in Earth 42 Peter is not Spiderman, instead he runs a company.. which is also comic canon at one point).

Parker Industry gave him a prosthetic and provided a healthier environment for Hobart to grow, they sponsor him to be a kind of vigilante to keep the city safe (again, this is a bit based on the comic canon, but in the comics he was paralyzed from the waist down for a while, he also worked for Parker Industry for some time).

- For Miles G. after his father died, there was a time when he lost his direction in life. He was haunted by the fact that he could not protect Jeff. Earth 42 is already chaotic, he doesn’t know how to protect his mother (since Uncle Aaron also has his own business and can’t stay with them all the time).

- One night when he was walking back home, Miles was stopped by a robber, normally he could protect himself, but that day his mind was spiraling so badly and before he knew it, he was cornered. That's when Prowler saved him.

- Hobart was just on duty, the alley was dark so he couldn't see the other boy very well, he just turned his back to tie up the robber and told Miles to go home, it's very dangerous here.

- At that time, the Prowler symbol on the back of Hobart’s jacket seemed to engrave itself in the back of Miles’ eyelids - a call to fight, a call to protect. He made a decision then.

- Miles immediately ran to Uncle Aaron and told him of his intention to be a vigilante. Aaron was hesitant at first, but Miles said that if he didn't train him, he would go find the Prowler himself and ask him for help. Aaron was worried that Miles would be taken advantage of by others, so he accepted to train and help him create tech.

- After a while, the two of them started blowing things up left and right in Brooklyn with Miles as the new Prowler, that was when Hobart realized that there was another guy running around in his symbol (there is a whole theme in the comics where Hobie’s Prowler gears keep being stolen by other ppl to impersonate him 😭)

- He thought about telling the boy to stop, but seeing Miles punching criminals, confronting villains who are many times bigger than him yet was still not afraid, Hobart became… curious? Want to know who that person is, why do they do this.

- Of course, when they meet, Hobart still asked Miles to not to carry his logo around, but Miles stubbornly argued that anyone can be a symbol, and he would not dishonour this one.

- In general, Hobart was impressed with Miles, but it took some time for both of them to gradually trust each other. After more than half a year, Hobart took the initiative to tell Miles his true identity, Miles then also took him to meet his uncle.

- After the two became closer, Miles began to help Hobart repair and maintain his prosthetic. Hobart also began to doubt his future in Parker Industry. He had never liked to be confined to a system, and although Peter helped him a lot, he still wanted to be his own person, fought for his own ideals. So as soon as Miles and Hobart were able to fix his prosthetic on their own, Hobart left Parker Industry and moved in with Miles.

- They started dating after 2 years of knowing each other (Aaron thanked heaven and earth that his nephew finally stopped blue-ball that Hobart boy, his head hurt every time he has to witness their awkward flirting 😭😭), when Miles G. met Miles 1610, he and Hobart had been officially dating for a few months.

So basic timeline: first meeting Miles G. was 13 / Hobart was 15 -> worked together as Prowlers team at 14 / 16 -> Hobart left Parker Industry / they started dating when Miles is 15 and Hobart is 17 -> meet Miles 1610.

Well that’s all for now, so when I draw that AU it’s based on that groundwork. Cheers!

[adragonsfriend]

Use this one trick to instantly fix all childhood trauma (Jedi Masters don’t want you to know this)!!!!!

That is what every “if Obi-Wan had just— *adds one extra scene to canon* —then Anakin would’ve had perfect mental health and never listened to Palpatine at all,” sounds like to me. Look I am not an expert on any kind of psychology at all let alone early childhood development but,

It is possible to do your very best to help or raise someone and still have bad or imperfect outcomes, especially when you have someone actively, secretly working against you (cough cough Sith Lord of the month cough), (for many reasons, but in this case particularly), because unravelling the mindset built in early childhood is hard, actually.

Coming at this from the “raised in a safe and loving environment” side of things, it took me years to figure out and internalize that my friends whose parents weren’t as great as mine were functioning in an entirely different landscape when it came to their interactions with adults.

Many years ago when I was in middle school a friend (acquaintance? idk I think most people thought I was annoying) told me that her ankle kept giving out and causing her pain. I asked if she'd told her parents so she could rest or go to the doctor. She told me she had, but her mother either hadn't listened or refused to help. My (approximate) responses?

"So it's not actually that bad then?"

"You should tell her again."

"Are you sure you explained it right?"

The only explanation I could comprehend at the time was that there must have been some unclear communication about the situation or its severity--if her mother had understood she was in pain, she couldn't possibly have just not done anything about it? Adults are responsible, caring, etcetera! They wouldn't do that?!

With more experience, I've come to understand better, and learned to respond in kinder, more helpful ways, but the shift in mindset was not and is not intuitive.

And I had the luxury of figuring all that out whilst being safe myself. Coming from the other direction, being in danger and trying to figure out why other people act like the world is safe? I can't say for sure, but I imagine it’s a lot more complicated.

Point with regard to Star Wars being, it really is harder for Anakin, coming in later, to acclimate to the Jedi ways and thought processes than it is for his peers who grew up in the safe environment of the Temple. And whatever arguments people want to have about how much psychology and therapy exist in the Star Wars universe, or how much “Jedi just do cognitive behavioral therapy” (not totally inaccurate, but reductive on several levels), no matter what the answers to those questions, it will still be harder for Anakin.

There is a reason the council changes its mind on training him only after he is suddenly famous and the Sith are proven to be back. When Anakin was not in significant danger of being snatched up by someone else, it was genuinely probably the easier and safer option—for him and everyone else—for him to live a different life.

The Jedi are not necessarily fully prepared for a child with Anakin's history, and, there is nothing bad about living an ordinary life. Anakin would not have been somehow unforgivably robbed by living life as a mechanic or an engineer or something, rather than being a Jedi.

Anakin is a victim of many things in his life—Sidious, Watto, Gardulla, Tatooine’s everything, his own conscious choices—but he is not a victim of malice, incompetence, or idiocy by the Jedi just because they couldn't—in only a decade or so—help him fully and perfectly unravel the mindset he developed in his early childhood. If there was any lack of qualification on their part, it was one they were aware of—but which was outweighed by the danger of little Anakin getting kidnapped out of normal-kid elementary school.

Being brought up in and around slavery absolutely made him more vulnerable to Sidous and became the basis of their dynamic as master and apprentice. Acting like the trauma that affects his mindset and actions for his entire life can be obliterated just by making minimal changes to the plot is wild to me.

And don’t get me wrong, fics and headcanons can do whatever they want, not everyone wants or is trying to write a deep psychological character study (also fanfic and even fiction in general cannot and should not be held to any standard of realism if it's not serving the story and the author)—simple fix-it’s (my love) are fun and an excellent short-cut to other things like happiness and fluff (my other loves)—but don’t act serious about the idea that adding one conversation about his feelings or one extra explanation about Jedi philosophy would automatically lead to Anakin having perfect mental health outcomes and always making good decisions.

Disclaimer (if the ones throughout weren't enough) : please go forth and do whatever you want. the moral of this post is actually just that (1) you won’t convince me, (2) I wanted to talk about this, (3) the clickbait title was too funny not to post, (4) i literally can't open my mouth without phrasing things like i'm in the middle of a heated debate, and (5) i continue to not be an expert in early childhood development—my evidence is very literally anecdotal

[enterprise-bee]

so i'm watching TNG (and any star trek at all!) for the first time and the thing i'm most surprised about so far is just how much i like commander riker. of course, this may be influenced by several conclusions i have come to about the man that are, perhaps, supported by canon, but maybe aren't entirely canon:

he's very obviously trans. just look at the difference between seasons 1 and 2. the T finally kicked in.

he's also bi. everything about his energy supports this you don't need me to tell you this.

also, he's a band kid. hear me out: plays trombone. kind of a tryhard. makes many corny jokes. comfortable under a chain of command. that is a BAND KID. he was in the starfleet academy marching band in my mind. i am simply waiting for the day the rest of the enterprise learns this. nothing else explains his personality so perfectly. (note: this is the one i don't think has any chance of ever actually happening, but i can dream.)

also like in general i love how competent and level-headed he is. he's written like he's kind of SUPPOSED to be the like, wildcard first officer to picard's more rules-following self, except picard once got stabbed in the heart in a barfight and riker is always reminding picard about regulations like "you're the captain of a star ship don't go. die???" so my headcanon about this is that before the enterprise riker WAS a little more of a loose canon and then he got assigned to picard and realized, oh no, someone in this command team had to be the well-adjusted one and the other options were his empath situationship, his clearly insane captain, a robot, a klingon, a child, the captain's situationship, and a traumatized security officer. he had no choice. he became the well-adjusted one by proxy.

sometimes he and geordi i think hang out and appreciate being the two people who are normally kind of just doing fine.

like it never stops being funny to me that the guy who seems like he SHOULD be the womanizing loose canon is somehow largely just a respectful, competent officer who largely has his shit fully together in basically every situation. like, the entire crew is competent mind you that is one of the appeals of this show but in general riker is an emotional rock who makes sensible, by-the-book choices.

once again: the only way to reconcile this with his everything else is that he must be a trans band kid ITS THE ONLY LOGICAL CONCLUSION,

[enteringdullsville]

I got bored so I made a thing. Modern Nick AU featuring a handful of the child protagonists, a chibified SpongeBob being their chaperone? A summer camp setting, perhaps? With everyone save for Danny, Jenny, and Dora having their ages fudged to be closer?

Sure, why not? From left to right:

Sanjay Patel

He may or may not have snuck Craig into his cabin, and Craig may or may not have started charging people for “sage advice from the talking snake”

Sanjay’s a relatively good kid but kind of a hellion. Manny spends much of his early life in a moral dilemma. Having them be partners seemed like a logical decision

His bowling pin head was really hard to adapt to my usual style without utterly mangling his face, but I think I did alright

Manny Rivera

He’s wearing the boots and scarf from his El Tigre costume

Bessie thinks he’s the coolest thing, but his and Danny’s egos clash almost immediately

This presumably takes place after he’s settled on heroism, but that doesn’t mean he’s not a troublemaker

April O’Neil

She’s quite possibly the only person getting any actual work done in camp

She’s ostensibly the least insane person in the group, but she’s prone to egging on the others’ antics and starting bets on how much things will escalate

Her age has been dropped a couple of years, so she’s often with Lincoln foiling Dora’s whole escape artist routine

Tommy Pickles

Still on his filmmaker career from All Grown Up! He has a lot of footage of a lot of things in a lot of places

Normally mild mannered and agreeable, but being given “strict orders” instantly makes his good mood vanish

His mind tends to wander when he’s bored, and it has no regard for its curfew

Lincoln Loud

He’s a weeb canonically, so he’s been given a vaguely animesque appearance

Whatever camp this takes place at, I can guarantee at least one of his sisters had been there prior. Since most of the characters here are the Everyman type, Linc’s cunning and trickster attributes are played up a bit

Has no regard for the fourth wall. Tommy has no clue what he’s on about and thinks he’s insane

Aang (Just Aang)

Whether or not he can bend is based purely on what’s funniest at the moment, especially since he and Dib make it impossible for this to be canon compliant

He’s definitely living in an AU with a less horrific backstory. Less responsibilities, less issues

Wouldn’t hurt a fly, but he’d definitely give a wasp a warning shot if it was being a jerk

Danny Fenton

Danny, and only Danny, is actually a little older here. He and Jenny are the counselors. Lucky them.

Doesn’t even bother with the secret identity since Bob’s the only one dense enough to not connect the dots

Being able to turn invisible is really helpful when Dib has questions he doesn’t feel like answering

Jimmy Neutron

There he is, officer. That one’s the ringleader

Aang’s existence is a constant source of frustration for him since he can’t come up with a scientific explanation for all…that

He’s right off the heels of Nicktoons Unite and is wondering when and why SB became so serious

SpongeBob SquarePants

The only adult we see at the camp for some reason, and the only nonhuman besides Jenny

I messed up his scaling, he was supposed to be small enough to fit in someone’s hand, hence his overly simplified design. That’s the height he is in-universe

Ironically and disproportionately strong. Not Jenny’s level, but about as strong as he is in Unite…without being adjusted for size. In other words, he can easily pick up and throw the campers like rag dolls

Jenny Wakeman

The only nonhuman kid at camp, as well as the oldest/youngest at 16/5

She’s the one thing stopping land bears from tearing the camp apart

She’s justifiably a little wary since she’s not exactly nature proof, but all the kids think she’s the coolest thing

Timmy Turner

A closer look at him reveals three familiar looking trinkets shaped like a wand, wings, and a floaty crowny thing

He doesn’t need magic, anyway. He’ll make everything possibly go wrong his own way

He and Bessie butt heads almost immediately; Timmy’s fine with one hypercompetent overachieving Girl Scout in his life, but he does not need another

Ginger Foutley

Usually found with fellow artsy types Rudy and Lincoln

Riddled with anxieties and restless leg syndrome. She comes of as brooding, but she’s just introspective

Since April’s a menace, she’s the actual least insane camper

Eliza Thornberry

It took her a bit to realize SpongeBob could actually talk to begin with and that everyone else didn’t have the same power as her. In fact, there’s a non-zero chance there are a bunch of animals from assorted Nick shows that are screaming in the background constantly and it’s messing with her head

I gave her just the one braid to make her distinct from the other Elizabeth in the cast

She slips in and out of her father’s mannerisms. SMASHING!

Rudy Tabootie

Mysteriously disappears to parts unknown it’stheChalkZone every now and then when he needs to blow off some steam

I find it funny how stylized I made everyone else while Rudy’s just slightly taller

SpongeBob sees a lot of himself in the kid. Rudy doesn’t know how to feel about that

Dora Marquez

Y’know, I added her as a joke, and she immediately became my favorite

She’s the youngest kid at her canon age of seven, so she’s coddled by everyone else. She HATES it, given that she’s been adventuring on her own for the longest time, so she’s a lot more cynical than usual. Easily the biggest departure from the norm

Constantly tries to escape supervision in favor of wandering the wilderness, but the talking cheese won’t let her

Arnold Shortman

He doesn’t know how he ended up as the “cool guy”, but he’s not gonna fight it

Appears detached and aloof, but he’s more likely just dissociating

Always seems to know what he’s doing to the point of parody. As smart as he is, I must reiterate he’s just improvising

Dib Membrane

Eliza, Rudy, and especially Timmy aren’t too keen on hanging around him for very obvious reasons

The fact he’s with people who are reasonably sane this time around means he’s in much better spirits. Lincoln’s probably his best friend at the camp, although Dib’s still a loner

He and Jimmy always run the risk of killing each other if they talk for more than two minutes at a time due to differing views on magic

Bessie Higgenbottom

The kid most likely to actually listen to the inane drivel that comes out of SpongeBob’s mouth

Since she’s still working on the whole Mighty Bee thing, she’s all over Manny, Danny, and Janny

There are very few campers that aren’t at least a little intimidated by her

There were a few other characters I wanted to add like Nate Wright (Big Nate), Annie Bramley (It’s Pony), Mikey Munroe (Bunsen is a Beast), but I scrapped them for space.

I elected to only use one character per series, causing me to drop Korra, Sheen Estevez, Ronnie Anne Santiago, and Hazel Wells for being spinoff characters (especially since Sheen and Ronnie Anne were around before getting their own shows). It also forced me to remove Fanboy and Chum Chum from my initial plan entirely.

I additionally wanted to keep SB as the only organic nonhuman character due to the inherent absurdity of having him as the sole adult figure, which is why Dib and April represent their series rather than Zim or a Ninja Turtle and why I chose not to use Harvey Beaks.

[garfunklefield]

Boyfriends Brother (200 follower special)

18+ viewer discretion is advised

fem!reader/Suguru Geto Warnings: infidelity, shower sex, p in v sex, creampie, exhibitionism, masturbation, semi public masturbation [someones in the room and they're unaware], finger sucking, standing up sex, Geto is hung its canon, tattooed!Suguru Geto, perverted!Suguru Geto Word count: 3129 DESC: You like the thrill of almost getting caught with your boyfriends brother

This is what won the poll and I took some very creative liberties when writing :3

You were always attracted to Suguru. In some weird way, you found him more attractive than his brother, the brother you were dating. You met your boyfriend a few months prior in a bar, nothing special. The two of you hit it off and began to date. But he never made you feel anything like this. Sure, he was conventionally attractive, but you never lusted after him. You never felt a surge pulsate between your thighs when he was near, and you sure as hell never got wet off of his voice alone. Not to mention, your boyfriend was kind of a dick. He drank a lot, looked at other women a lot, and objectified you a lot. Yeah sure, you hit it off, but you felt trapped after the five-month mark. You didn’t have any desire to stay with him and he couldn’t care less, you were his personal maid and fuck toy. Suguru was different than him. 

You first met him at a party your boyfriend forced you to go to. He smacked your ass and crudely announced, “This is the hot piece of ass I was telling you about, Guru!” Your boyfriend's brother stared at him blankly for a moment, before turning his eyes to you. They were naturally sultry and narrowed to take in your form. He took in your uncomfortable smile and tensed shoulders, and he sighed. A hand ran up to mess with his hair, undoing it from its bun. You watched as his neck tattoo and ear gauges got covered by his thick black hair, cascading onto his shoulders in a choppy fashion. 

“It’s very nice to meet you,” Suguru extended his hand and took yours without hesitation. You saw instantly how much bigger he was than you. His height towered over your frame and your hand was engulfed by his own. Even though he was practically huge, he shook your hand delicately. As if you’d break with one rough touch. 

Something took over your body and you turned to your boyfriend, to look at him with innocent eyes, “Baby, can you get me a soda?” You’d never been the devious type or even the type to consider cheating. But something new crossed your mind. You didn’t think about sleeping with him like that, although you did note how utterly ethereal he was. He was perfect, down to every mole or the crook in his nose. 

Your boyfriend rolled his eyes in a way you knew wasn’t teasing and walked off, to find the bar top to get you two a drink. Once he was gone you felt yourself relax, your shoulders drooping and a breath escaping your lips. You went to apologize for his behavior, but at the same time you spoke so did Suguru, stating the same thing. He paused mid-way and blinked once, “...Why are you sorry? He’s my brother, I should be apologizing for his upbringing… lack thereof.” The raven-haired male crossed his arms in an annoyed way that made you let out a faint giggle. He was right, your boyfriend had horrible manners. At first, it too made you laugh, but then it became an embarrassing pain. Your heart thumped loudly against your chest and made your ribs tighten, not to mention you felt that familiar pang in your legs. Over a joke? Really?? Well, he was hot, and he acknowledged your boyfriend's abhorrent behavior. That was truly hard to find for you. Someone who was on your side. Someone who saw you. God, it was hot. You were never the cheating type, always becoming toxically loyal to your partners. But there was something about him. You found yourself attracted to him. That’s when your small crush began on Suguru. 

Obviously, you started to see him more and more. It was like your boyfriend had been hiding his more attractive brother from you for the first few weeks, but now you couldn’t get rid of him. Over the next few weeks, he frequented your boyfriend's apartment, and then your shared apartment when you moved in. He’d always make small talk with you, and more importantly, make you feel seen. It wasn’t just one thing to feel attracted to him, you actually liked being around him. He was funny and sensitive; All of it was making your crush ten times worse. The crush was originally mainly and only surface level, but soon you imagined what it would be like to wake up with him next to you instead of your boyfriend. You imagined running your hands through his hair and wishing him a good morning. Kissing his eyelids until he groggily looked at you, before smiling. Your fantasies would always start wholesome, then turn dirty within seconds. You wanted him to worship your body and fuck you senseless, making you stand as you took his big, filthy, cock. He had to be large, there was no way he wasn’t. Just from the sheer size of his body, you knew he was packing. You wanted him to C-hook your mouth with his index finger, slamming down your throat and making you choke on it as you came. 

You blinked a few times and took yourself out of the vivid fantasy, making your underwear stick to your folds. Suguru was at your apartment, playing video games with his brother. They sat at the foot of the bed while you watched from your desk, while you were supposed to be doing homework. You couldn’t focus, looking at Suguru’s chiseled back and his mop of hair. They were in front of you, so they didn’t see your hand snake down the front of your shorts, which were just your boyfriend's grey boxers. Your fingers brushed against your clothed clit, against your sopping panties. You inhaled quietly and bit back a moan at the sensitive sensation. You had never been this bad before, to fuck yourself to Suguru with him in the same room as you. Normally, it would be late at night or in the shower. But now … you felt so desperate to get off. You held the back of your hand to your mouth and bit down, to stop small noises from escaping as you rubbed your pussy. 

“Goal!” Your boyfriend shouted, grinning at his brother, “Bet you can’t beat that, Guru!” Suguru went to speak, turning his head, but his eyes locked with yours. Just as you came, seeing your eyes flutter to the back of your head. He stared for a moment before shoving his brother's head and replying with a standard response you didn’t hear. You were too busy, filling with dread. He just saw you fuck yourself and he just saw you orgasm. What’s worse, is he saw you weren’t staring at your boyfriend either. You were staring at your boyfriend's brother. It was over, you were going to be outed as the perverted soul you truly were. No one had ever made you debate stealing their clothes and touching yourself to the smell of them. Not even your boyfriend.

Suguru got up and cleared his throat, “Is it okay if I shower? I’m feeling a bit greasy,” he looked over at you and then winked. He … winked. You felt your heart squeeze and your hand pulled itself out from your underwear, two fingers glistening from your wetness in the low light. Your boyfriend nodded and his brother walked back to the door, passing by you. He leaned over your frame and grabbed your hand by the wrist, letting his fingers engulf it. He smelled purely of nice cologne; Mixing with the air, it made you feel hazy. Maybe he wasn’t exactly as straight-laced as you had anticipated. And maybe when he saw your display he realized he had a chance. That’s what you hoped for. 

Your legs slowly clenched together, squeezing as he brought your hand up to his mouth. “Spread them, pretty girl,” he mumbled, eyeing your slicked fingers with a lustrous stare. You bit back a whimper and spread your fingers apart. Suguru brought your wet middle finger into his mouth and inserted it, closing his lips around your knuckle. He started sucking, closing his eyes, and groaning softly at the taste. You could see he was already hard and you could see him have to restrain himself from taking you then right there. It turned you on, for the fact your boyfriend was right in front of you two none the wiser. All he knew was you were doing homework and his brother was showering. But you weren’t doing your homework and Suguru wasn’t showering. He was busy licking up and down your middle finger, drinking up your holy liquids like it was a prayer. He finally pulled back, leaving a trail of saliva from the bottom of his lip to your fingertip. He let go of your wrist and used that hand to signal you to follow him silently, making sure your boyfriend didn’t notice. 

You stood up instantly, following him quietly. At that moment, you cut any romantic ties you had with your boyfriend. You felt nothing but contempt for him, keeping you trapped in a relationship based on the promises he always took back. At that moment, you were completely and utterly done. You didn’t need your boyfriend anymore when you had a real man who could ravish and please you, romantically and sexually. The two of you made the quick walk to the bathroom connected to the master bedroom, letting the door faintly close behind the both of you. In seconds his hands were on your hips, tracing them lightly with his fingers. Even his dirty touches were polite as if he didn’t want to break you.

“Fuck… I’ve wanted this so bad,” Suguru practically moaned, “He doesn’t deserve you. He can’t please you like I can,” his hands slowly trailed down until they grazed your ass. His large palms smoothed your skin and then squeezed, just to hear you gasp and feel you shudder.

“Suguru…” You whined against his touch, pouting your bottom lip when he kept squeezing your ass cheeks, “This is so.. Wr-” You couldn’t continue your sentence, as his lips found yours and pulled you into a heated kiss. The air felt so heavy and thick between the two of you, with your bodies pressed together in pure harmony. His mouth sucked and cradled yours, making you try your hardest to keep up. Suguru was such a skilled kisser, he was making it a bit hard. You whimpered into the kiss and pressed your hands onto his back, digging your nails into his shirt.

“Fuck right or wrong,” he breathed against your open mouth, as you attempted to find his own again, “No one deserves you. Not him,” his lips brushed against your temples, “Not even me…” With that, he was kissing you again, hungrier. He needed you so badly it was causing him physical pain. His hands were now trailing inside your shirt, undoing your bra. He needed you out of these useless clothes and he needed that now. Suguru was straining against his tight pants to just be inside of you, for any kind of release. Fuck… your mouth would’ve felt so good if he just let your plush lips wrap around his cock. 

“Hey, Guru??” You both heard your boyfriend shout. As quickly as Suguru was kissing and holding you, he was pushing you into the shower and closing the curtain. You fell against the tile wall and hissed at the sensation, pushing yourself up. You heard the door open and your boyfriend asked, “Yo, where’s the gf? I wanted a sandwich.”

“I think she said one of her friends invited her out. She’ll be back later,” Suguru lied, straight-faced and through his teeth. How could he do that to his brother and not look the littlest bit guilty? I mean, he was a piece of shit so he didn’t feel too bad. But this was still wrong. Oh so wrong.

“Oh,” you heard him reply a bit deflated, “Do you mind if I shave then? I was growing out the beard but I don’t think it’s a look.” You heard Suguru reply with a hearty laugh and then the door closed. You looked down at your clothes and began to strip, pushing them to the side of the shower. You could always pick them up later and put them in the washing machine, he’d never know. First, came your shirt and bra, then your shorts and panties. You heard a bit of shuffling behind the curtain and the raven-haired male stepped into the shower, avoiding opening the curtain too much. He gave you a sly grin and began to take off his own clothes. It was hot, seeing him remove his shirt and looking at the ink lining his skin. Dragons, snakes, spiders, webs, anything you could think of he probably had on his chest and arms. You couldn’t resist and one of your hands touched the snake in the shape of a heart along his bicep. His skin was so silky and smooth, you could’ve cum then and there. He looked over at you with a different expression, almost a deer in headlights. A small blush spread from his temples down to the apples of his cheeks, and a genuine smile appeared on his mouth. The one where his eyes crinkled and closed. 

“You know, I think she’s gonna leave you if you only call her the gf instead of her name,” Suguru called out, tossing his clothes over the curtain. Without giving his brother a chance to respond, he turned on the water to one of the hottest settings. You let out a faint gasp and felt as he pushed you up against the wall, pressing his mouth to yours. You didn’t even get a chance to look at his dick! You bit back a loud moan and kissed him back, as water pelted both of your fronts. Two burly hands pressed your wrists on either side of your head, forcing you to endure the passion from his mouth. It turned you on in a way that felt like a fire was brewing inside of your core, burning and building, waiting for more stimulation. His hands would feel better than your own and you both knew it. Just like how your mouth could satiate his own burning craving for a release.

“Yeah, right,” you could almost hear your boyfriend roll his eyes. But his voice was fading in and out of your hearing, half from the shower water and half from his brother sucking against your bottom lip. “She couldn’t leave me if she tried. My dicks too good.” Speak of the devil, you felt Suguru’s cock rub against your thigh. You didn’t take the time to even check if it was okay, pulling away and putting your hand against his cock, positioning it at your entrance. He watched you with half-lidded eyes, before biting his bottom lip. You felt so warm and wet, basically being asked to be defiled. 

“Yeah, you fuck her soooo good,” Suguru replied as he thrust into your pussy, biting back a groan and shuddering at the sensation of you clenching around him. He was big and he didn’t give you time to adjust as he began to fuck you, deep and slow, making sure to press his balls against your cunt, pulling out, then slamming back in. You gasped and pushed your head back against the tile, rocking your hips to the sensation. “I wonder if she’d like me more,” he spoke as if he wasn’t balls deep in your wetness. Suguru grabbed one of your legs and slowly began to lift it up to his hip, wrapping it around him. It was all to get the better angle to fuck you even deeper. You deserved the best he could ever give.

“Wh… why do you say that?” You heard your boyfriend sound a bit … jealous as he continued, “She’s with me for a reason, dude.” You went to open your mouth to whisper something to the man fucking you dumb, but his tip touched your heavenly spot. He was hitting every curve and ridge correctly, fucking you like a princess. To him, you deserved the best fucking he could give, even if he was forced to be quiet. He didn’t want you to be quiet at all, he wanted you to cry as you came every time. But these circumstances were a bit strange, even though the thrill turned you on. You could be caught at any second and completely outed as a perverted cheating creep, but you hadn’t been caught yet. That’s what made your stomach tingle every time he fucked his leaking cock into you.

“Just a hunch,” Suguru mumbled, letting a groan slip out. You arched your back as you felt his penis rub against you in a way you fucking loved, feeling yourself getting closer to the edge. He used his free hand to stick his fingers in your mouth, making you choke on how long and large they were. You grinned and sucked on them as if your climax depended on it, which it felt as though it did. You were so close and this was so hot, and he wasn’t stopping his thrusts for anything. He was just so hot. Nothing had ever turned you on this much in your life. Typically the only thing that felt good was the orgasm with your boyfriend, but everything felt good with Geto. Your mouth hung open and your tongue writhed around his fingers, whimpering as you finally came. You were too loud at that point, but you both didn’t care. He fucked your wetness right back into your battered cunt, making you feel all the more sensitive as you road your high and clenched your walls around his cock. You heard some rustling behind you and then felt his thrusts reach their peak, pumping ropes of cum into your abused pussy. Suguru let out a moan as he did so, again being way too loud. He didn’t stop, thrusting again and cumming even more. 

You were so sensitive you were about to orgasm again, but you paused. Maybe he was too loud, or the smell of your sex was overpowering, but you saw the shower curtain shift. One of your hands went to tap Suguru but another orgasm took hold of you and instead of words coming out, a loud moan did. Shit. Suguru froze and heard the curtain fully open behind him and you both felt the shower stop. It was silent as you stared face to face with your now ex-boyfriend. 

“I can ex-” You began but he cut you off.

“...Get out.”

[reidmarieprentiss]

Hookups & Holdouts

Summary: Spencer is casually seeing your friend, but is there something going on between you and him as well?

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader

Category: fluff, mild angst

Warnings/Includes: bisexual Spencer Reid (it's canon to me), having a crush on your friends fwb, tension, Spencer is just a man, forced encounters

Word count: 7.7k

a/n: unfortunately i have been the reader in this situation ........

main masterlist

The night was buzzing with the energy of the bar, the kind of place where the music vibrated through the floors, and the chatter of conversations created a constant hum. You had gone out with your coworkers for a much-needed night of unwinding after a particularly stressful week. It was supposed to be a night of letting loose, but instead, your thoughts were consumed by someone you had met not too long ago—Spencer.

Your mind drifted to the first time you met him. It was at a small get-together hosted by Anders, a close friend of yours who had been seeing Spencer for a while now. You hadn't expected to hit it off with Spencer as much as you did, especially since you thought he was strictly into men. But as the night went on, you found yourself drawn to his quirky intelligence, his sharp wit, and the way his eyes seemed to light up when he talked about something he was passionate about.

You quickly became friends, texting back and forth until it became a regular part of your day. It was during one of these late-night text exchanges that you learned Spencer was bisexual. Your heart had done a little flip at that revelation, but you quickly shoved your feelings aside, convincing yourself that Spencer was head over heels for Anders. After all, they were sleeping together, and Anders was obviously very into him.

But now, as you sipped your drink and scanned the bar, you spotted Spencer at a table with a group of people who had to be his coworkers. Your heart skipped a beat. You had heard a lot about them from Spencer—Derek, JJ, Emily—but seeing them in person was something else entirely. You were about to wave and call out to him when Spencer’s eyes found yours first. He smiled that familiar smile, the one that always made your stomach do somersaults, and excused himself from his group.

“Fancy seeing you here,” Spencer greeted you as he approached, his voice warm and teasing.

“Well, well, if it isn’t the smartest guy in the room,” you replied with a grin, trying to hide how your pulse quickened just being around him.

“I don’t know about that,” Spencer said, downplaying your compliment in that self-deprecating way he always did. “Mind if I join you?”

“Not at all.” You motioned to the empty stool next to you.

The two of you quickly fell into your usual rhythm, talking about everything from work to the latest books you were reading. But as the conversation flowed, you couldn’t help the little quips that started slipping out, your nerves getting the better of you.

“So, how’s Anders? You two still having fun?” you asked, trying to sound casual but feeling a twinge of something uncomfortable as you brought him up.

Spencer chuckled lightly, a sound that didn’t reach his eyes. “Anders is… fine. He’s fun to be around, I guess.”

You raised an eyebrow at his tone. “You guess? Come on, Spencer, the guy’s practically in love with you.”

Spencer shifted uncomfortably in his seat, his fingers absentmindedly tracing patterns on the edge of his glass. “Anders is… nice. But, uh, he’s not really my type.”

That took you by surprise. You thought for sure that Spencer was into Anders—why else would he keep seeing him? “Not your type? You’ve been sleeping with him for weeks.”

“Yeah, well… sometimes people do things for reasons other than love,” Spencer said, his voice dropping slightly. He looked at you with an expression you couldn’t quite read, a mix of vulnerability and something else that made your heart race.

You suddenly felt a bit silly for bringing it up, but you couldn’t stop the words from coming out. “So, what’s wrong with him? Not smart enough for you?”

Spencer let out a small laugh, but there was no real amusement behind it. “Something like that. He’s just… we don’t connect on a deeper level, you know? It’s all very surface-level.”

You nodded, biting your lip as you processed his words. “I see. So, no chance of you two becoming anything serious, then?”

Spencer hesitated before answering, his gaze locking onto yours. “Honestly? I’m not looking for anything serious with Anders. I’m just… I don’t know, trying to figure things out. I think he knows that.”

Your heart pounded in your chest as you realized what he was saying. Anders wasn’t who Spencer really wanted. But then who was? The question hung heavy in the air between you, but you were too scared to ask it out loud. Instead, you deflected, cracking a joke to cover up the awkwardness.

“Well, if you’re not looking for serious, maybe I should set you up with my other friend. They’re even more clueless than Anders.”

Spencer’s eyes crinkled with a small smile, but there was a hint of frustration in them. “You really think that’s what I’m after? Clueless fun?”

You shrugged, trying to keep the mood light despite the tightness in your chest. “Isn’t that what everyone wants?”

Spencer sighed, leaning closer to you. His voice was soft, almost hesitant. “No. Not everyone.”

Your heart raced, a mix of hope and fear swirling in your chest. The last thing you wanted was to face the possibility that you weren’t what Spencer was looking for. The thought of getting hurt, of not being enough, was too much to bear. So, like you always did when things got too real, you joked.

“Well, when you meet a man who doesn’t want that, send them my way,” you said with a forced laugh, trying to brush off the weight of the moment.

Spencer’s expression faltered for just a split second, but you caught it—the brief flicker of disappointment in his eyes before he quickly masked it. He straightened up, the space between you widening as he pulled back. The connection you had just felt so deeply seemed to fray at the edges, unraveling as the conversation shifted back to safer, more casual topics.

“Yeah, sure,” Spencer replied, his tone light, almost too light. “I’ll keep an eye out for you.”

The easygoing smile he offered didn’t quite reach his eyes, and you could tell he was retreating, closing himself off. Your stomach twisted in regret, but you couldn’t bring yourself to backtrack, to admit that you had only been joking out of fear.

Instead, you followed his lead, letting the conversation drift back to mundane things—the latest case he had been working on, the books you both had been reading, the random, everyday things that were usually so comforting. But now, every word felt like a reminder of what you might have just lost, of the opportunity that had slipped through your fingers.

As the night wore on, you found yourself laughing and talking as you always did with Spencer, but there was a heaviness in the air that neither of you acknowledged. The easy rapport you had was still there, but it was tinged with something unsaid, something that had almost been spoken but was now buried beneath the surface.

When it was time to part ways, Spencer walked you to the door, his hands shoved deep into his pockets. You felt the tension in the air, the unspoken words hanging between you like a thick fog.

“Thanks for hanging out tonight,” he said, his voice still carrying that light, casual tone.

“Yeah, it was fun,” you replied, forcing a smile.

There was a brief pause, a moment where you both stood there, just looking at each other. You wanted to say something, to take back your earlier joke, to tell him how you really felt. But the fear of rejection, of ruining what you already had, held you back.

Spencer gave you a small nod, then turned to leave. “I’ll see you around, okay?”

“Yeah,” you said, your voice quieter than you intended. “See you around.”

As you watched him walk away, disappearing into the night, you couldn’t help but feel the sting of regret. You had missed your chance, and now you were left wondering what could have been if you had just been brave enough to be honest.

—

The drive to Anders' place was filled with a mixture of nerves and determination. You had made up your mind; it was time to tell Anders the truth. He deserved to know that Spencer wasn't interested in him the way he wanted. It wasn’t fair for him to keep investing in something that wasn’t going anywhere. You hated the idea of hurting your friend, but it was better than letting him continue on, oblivious.

You pulled up to Anders' apartment, trying to shake off the unease that clung to you. The familiar routine of movie nights had always been a comfort, a way to unwind and relax. But tonight was different. Tonight, you were going to disrupt that comfort with harsh reality.

Taking a deep breath, you let yourself in, as you always did. Anders never minded; his place was practically your second home. You called out to announce your arrival, but the words caught in your throat when you saw the scene in front of you.

There, on the couch where you usually sat, was Spencer—completely naked, with an equally naked Anders in his lap. The image burned into your brain, your eyes widening in shock as you tried to process what you were seeing.

“Oh my god! I’m so sorry!” you yelled, immediately spinning around to face the door, your heart racing in your chest. You could feel the heat rising to your cheeks, embarrassment and shock battling for dominance in your mind.

Anders, ever the carefree spirit, just giggled. The sound was light, airy, completely unfazed by the situation. “Hey, babe, what are you doing here?” he asked casually, as if you hadn’t just walked in on him in the middle of a very intimate moment.

“Uh—you asked if I wanted to watch a movie tonight!” you stammered, still refusing to turn around, your eyes fixed firmly on the door. Your mind was racing, trying to figure out how to extricate yourself from this incredibly awkward situation without making it worse.

“Oh, right!” Anders said, his voice full of realization. “I totally forgot. We, uh, kind of got distracted.” He let out another giggle, as if this whole thing was just a minor inconvenience.

Spencer, on the other hand, was silent. You could feel the tension radiating from him, and it only made your discomfort grow. You wanted to disappear, to erase the last few minutes from existence. But there was no undoing what had just happened.

“I—uh, I’ll just go,” you mumbled, reaching for the door handle, desperate to escape.

“No, wait!” Anders called out, but you were already halfway out the door. The last thing you wanted was to stick around and make things even more awkward.

You bolted down the hallway, not stopping until you were back in your car. Once inside, you sat there for a moment, your hands gripping the steering wheel as you tried to steady your breathing. The image of Spencer and Anders was still fresh in your mind, and you felt a wave of emotions crashing over you—embarrassment, guilt, sadness, and something else you couldn’t (or didn’t want to) name.

As you drove away, you couldn’t help but feel like the worst friend in the world. You had come to tell Anders the truth, to help him move on, but instead, you had just walked in on something that was probably better left unseen. And now, you didn’t know how you were going to face either of them again.

In the back of your mind, though, there was another thought, one that made your heart ache even more. You had seen Spencer in a way that only deepened your feelings for him, but you also knew, without a doubt, that he wasn’t yours to have. Not now. Not ever.

—

The days that followed the incident at Anders' apartment were some of the most confusing and emotionally draining you had ever experienced. Spencer's text message—I’m sorry you saw that. Are we okay?—had sat on your phone like a ticking time bomb. Every time you opened your messages, there it was, a stark reminder of what you’d witnessed, and what you couldn’t unsee. You had read it countless times, but every time, it made your chest tighten and your eyes burn with unshed tears. You couldn’t bring yourself to respond, not yet. Not when everything felt so raw.

So you let it sit. And sit. Days turned into weeks, and you kept yourself distant from both Spencer and Anders. You barely texted Anders, showing up in his life only when absolutely necessary, and even then, you kept things as casual and distant as possible. Luckily, Anders didn’t seem to notice much, his naturally spaced-out personality giving you some breathing room. But you knew you couldn’t avoid him forever. Eventually, he would notice. Eventually, you would have to face him again.

And that day had come sooner than you would have liked. Anders had messaged you about another movie night, and you knew it was time to face the music. You agreed to come over, but you made sure to call from the parking lot, wanting to avoid any more unplanned surprises.

“Hey, I’m here,” you said into the phone, trying to keep your voice light as you sat in your car outside Anders' apartment.

“Great! Come on up, I’ve got the popcorn ready,” Anders replied, his usual cheerful tone making you feel a little guilty for having avoided him for so long.

You took a deep breath, forcing yourself to get out of the car and walk up to his apartment. Your nerves were on edge, but you told yourself it would be fine. You just had to get through this night, and then maybe things would start to feel normal again.

Once inside, you tried to focus on the task at hand, helping Anders get the snacks together in the kitchen. It was almost working—almost—until you heard the sound of the front door opening.

“Hey, lover!” Anders called out, his voice bright and playful.

Your heart sank, and you froze in place, your hand hovering over the bowl of chips you were holding. You didn’t need to turn around to know who had just walked in. That voice had been seared into your memory, and the way Anders greeted him left no doubt.

Spencer.

You could feel your pulse quicken, panic rising in your chest as you heard the sound of footsteps approaching. You quickly busied yourself with the snacks, pretending you hadn’t heard, hoping against hope that maybe, just maybe, you could get through this without falling apart.

But then Spencer spoke, his voice soft and hesitant. “Hey… I didn’t know you’d be here.”

You swallowed hard, trying to steady your breathing as you forced yourself to turn around. There he was, standing in the doorway of the kitchen, looking just as nervous and out of place as you felt. His eyes met yours, and for a moment, the two of you just stared at each other, the weight of everything that had gone unsaid hanging heavily between you.

“Yeah, I, uh… I didn’t know either,” you finally managed to say, your voice sounding weaker than you intended. “Anders didn’t mention you were coming.”

Anders, completely oblivious to the tension in the room, just smiled and shrugged. “I thought it’d be fun to have both of you here. You’re my favorite people, after all.”

You forced a smile, but it didn’t reach your eyes. “Yeah, fun.”

Spencer’s gaze lingered on you, and you could see the concern in his eyes. He knew you hadn’t replied to his message, and he was waiting for some sign that things were okay. But you weren’t sure if they were. You weren’t sure if you could pretend that everything was fine when it wasn’t.

Anders, still blissfully unaware, handed you the bowl of popcorn. “Come on, let’s get started! I’ve been dying to watch this movie all week.”

You nodded, taking the bowl and heading to the living room, doing your best to avoid brushing against Spencer as you passed him. The three of you settled onto the couch—the same couch—and you couldn’t help but feel like you were in some twisted version of a love triangle. Except, in this version, you were the only one who felt like you were losing.

As the movie started, you found it nearly impossible to focus. Your mind kept drifting back to the moment in the kitchen, to the look in Spencer’s eyes, to the fact that you were sitting mere inches away from him, and yet it felt like there was a chasm between you.

Anders, as usual, was fully engrossed in the movie, laughing at all the right moments, completely at ease. You envied him for that, for being able to enjoy the night without the weight of unspoken feelings hanging over his head.

But then, halfway through the movie, Anders got a call and had to step out of the room, leaving you and Spencer alone together. The silence that followed was deafening, the tension in the air almost suffocating.

Spencer shifted uncomfortably, glancing at you before speaking. “I’m really sorry about everything,” he said quietly. “I didn’t mean for things to get so complicated.”

You nodded, not trusting yourself to speak. You wanted to tell him that it wasn’t his fault, that you were the one who had let things get complicated, but the words just wouldn’t come.

“I… I don’t want things to be awkward between us,” Spencer continued, his voice soft. “I miss talking to you.”

That was it. The dam broke, and before you knew it, you were blinking back tears, trying desperately to keep them from falling. Your emotions, which you had kept bottled up for so long, suddenly became too much to bear.

“I can’t do this,” you whispered, your voice trembling as you stood up abruptly, grabbing your things in a desperate bid to escape. You could feel Spencer’s eyes on you, full of concern and confusion, but you couldn’t bring yourself to look at him. If you did, you knew you’d fall apart completely.

“Wait—” Spencer started to say, reaching out as if to stop you, but you shook your head, cutting him off.

“Tell Anders whatever you want,” you said, your voice firmer this time, but still laced with the pain you were trying so hard to hide. You couldn’t stay there, not with Spencer, not with the weight of your feelings suffocating you. The thought of facing Anders, of pretending everything was normal, was impossible.

And with that, you turned and walked out of the apartment, not giving Spencer a chance to respond. The door clicked shut behind you, and the moment you were outside, the tears you had been holding back finally spilled over, streaming down your cheeks as you hurried to your car.

Your heart pounded in your chest, each beat echoing with a mixture of regret, fear, and sadness. You had run away, leaving Spencer and Anders behind, but what else could you have done? Staying would have only prolonged the inevitable.

As you drove away, your hands gripped the steering wheel tightly, your knuckles turning white. You didn’t know what Spencer would say to Anders, or how your friend would react. But at that moment, you couldn’t bring yourself to care. You had to get away, to put distance between yourself and the situation that had become too tangled, too painful.

When you finally reached the safety of your own home, you collapsed onto your couch, your body wracked with silent sobs. You had thought you could handle it, that you could push your feelings aside and just be friends with Spencer, but now you realized how wrong you had been.

You didn’t know what would happen next, but one thing was clear: you couldn’t go back to the way things were. Too much had changed, and the wound you carried was too deep to ignore. For now, all you could do was try to heal, even if it meant distancing yourself from the people you cared about most.

—

You sat on your couch, the weight of the evening pressing down on you like a heavy blanket. The room was dimly lit, the only light coming from the muted television you weren’t really watching. The events of the night replayed in your mind on a loop, your emotions a tangled mess of regret and confusion. 

When your phone rang, you almost didn’t answer, but the sight of Anders' name on the screen made you pause. You felt a pang of guilt; you had left so abruptly, and he deserved better than that. With a sigh, you answered, bracing yourself for whatever was coming.

“Hey, babe!” Anders' voice was cheerful, completely unaware of the turmoil you were in. It was comforting and yet somehow made you feel worse.

“Hey, Andy,” you replied, trying to keep your voice steady, but the tension in your throat made it come out quieter than usual.

It started off as a typical conversation, Anders chatting away about his day, his plans for tomorrow, the usual banter that you were used to. You let him talk, responding here and there with murmurs of agreement, hoping he wouldn’t pick up on the distance in your voice.

But then, as the conversation began to wind down, Anders asked the question you had been dreading, the one you had hoped wouldn’t come.

“So, what’s going on with you and Spencer?”

Your breath hitched, panic flaring up in your chest. “No—nothing,” you stammered, the words tumbling out before you could even think.

Anders, oblivious as ever, let out a light giggle, not cruel but definitely amused. “Babe, if you want to sleep with him too, it’s okay! Spencer and I talked, and he told me he’s not looking for anything serious. I’ll admit it hurt a bit, but I have a date tomorrow with a big hubba bubba daddy, so who cares!”

His words hit you like a truck, and it took everything in you to keep your voice steady. “Oh wow, I’m sorry, Andy,” you said, forcing out the words as your heart pounded in your chest. You couldn’t let him know how much this conversation was affecting you. “But, uh, I don’t want to sleep with Spencer, thanks though.”

Anders didn’t seem to notice your internal struggle. He immediately launched into a rant about his upcoming date, describing in vivid detail just how sexy his new interest was. He spoke with the same enthusiasm he had always had, the kind that was contagious and usually made you laugh along with him.

But tonight, you couldn’t muster the energy. You listened, letting his words wash over you, but your mind was elsewhere. The relief that Anders was so easily distracted by his new date was tinged with a deep sadness that you couldn’t shake. He had already moved on, while you were still stuck in the mire of your own emotions, unable to let go of the complicated feelings you had for Spencer.

As Anders continued to gush about his date, you found yourself nodding along, murmuring words of encouragement and support. You tried to sound as genuine as possible, hiding the cracks in your voice as best as you could. But inside, you were reeling.

Eventually, Anders wound down, his excitement tempered by the late hour. He bid you goodnight with a cheerful, “Wish me luck tomorrow!” and you returned the sentiment, your voice softer than usual.

When the call ended, you were left alone with your thoughts once more. The apartment felt quieter than before, the silence pressing in on you from all sides. You sat there for a long moment, staring at the phone in your hand, the weight of the evening settling heavily on your shoulders.

Something didn’t sit right with you, a question that buzzed in the back of your mind, refusing to be ignored. Spencer had made it clear that he didn’t see Anders as anything more than a casual fling—no romantic feelings, no intellectual connection. And yet, they were still sleeping together.

You tried to shake the thought away, telling yourself it wasn’t your business. Spencer was free to make his own choices, and Anders had already moved on, or at least he seemed to be. But the more you thought about it, the more the pieces didn’t add up.

Spencer had reached out to you after that night, asking if you were okay, expressing concern for how you felt. But if he was truly worried about how his relationship with Anders was affecting you, wouldn’t he have stopped sleeping with your friend? Wouldn’t he have made some kind of decision, some gesture to show that he was considering your feelings?

The thought gnawed at you, making your chest tighten with a mix of confusion and hurt. It felt like a betrayal, even if you didn’t have any real claim on Spencer’s actions. You had been trying so hard to navigate your feelings, to be a good friend, to keep the peace between everyone involved. But now, you couldn’t help but wonder if Spencer had been as considerate of you as you had been of him.

Anders’ casual mention that you could sleep with Spencer too—it felt wrong, like you were being invited into something you had no business being part of. If Spencer really cared about you, if he really wanted to figure things out between you two, wouldn’t he put a stop to his arrangement with Anders? Wouldn’t he want to keep things clear, to avoid complicating an already messy situation?

Your mind spiraled with these questions, each one cutting deeper than the last. You had tried to push your feelings aside, to be rational, to not make things more difficult than they already were. But now, you couldn’t help but feel like you were the only one trying to keep things from falling apart.

Maybe you were overthinking it. Maybe Spencer just didn’t realize how much it was affecting you. But deep down, you knew that if he cared—really cared—he would have made a different choice. He wouldn’t have kept things going with Anders, knowing how tangled and painful this whole situation had become.

The realization hit you hard, a wave of sadness washing over you. You had wanted so badly to believe that Spencer was different, that he saw you as more than just someone in the background of his life. But now, it felt like you were just another person he could compartmentalize, another relationship he could keep separate and convenient.

You felt a lump rise in your throat as the hurt and disappointment settled in. You had been so focused on keeping the peace, on not causing trouble, that you had ignored your own feelings in the process. And now, you were left wondering if Spencer had ever truly considered how much this was hurting you.

With a heavy heart, you realized that you couldn’t keep ignoring this. You couldn’t keep pretending that everything was fine when it wasn’t. Something had to change, and it wasn’t going to be easy. But you couldn’t keep sacrificing your own well-being for the sake of others, not anymore.

You picked up your phone, staring at the message Spencer had sent days ago. Your thumb hovered over the screen, hesitation gnawing at you. Part of you wanted to reply, to tell him everything, to ask him why he hadn’t made a different choice. But another part of you—the part that had been trying to protect yourself—wasn’t sure if you were ready to hear the answer.

Finally, you set the phone down, deciding that you were done with Spencer Reid.

—

A few weeks later, you found yourself wandering the aisles of the grocery store, lost in thought as you tried to focus on the mundane task of shopping. You were staring blankly at the jars of pickles in front of you when you heard your name being called out.

“Y/N!”

The familiar voice snapped you out of your reverie, and you turned to see Spencer walking towards you, a broad smile on his face. He looked genuinely happy to see you, which only made the knot in your stomach tighten.

“Hi,” you replied with a polite nod, your tone deliberately neutral.

“How are you?” Spencer asked, his excitement still evident as he stopped beside you.

“Fine,” you said shortly, your eyes returning to the jars, though you weren’t really seeing them. Your thoughts were swirling too much to focus on something as trivial as grocery shopping.

Spencer tilted his head slightly, a confused, almost puppy-like expression on his face. “Are you still mad at me?”

“Mad? No,” you dismissed the idea with a wave of your hand, shaking your head. You weren’t mad—frustrated, hurt, disappointed, maybe, but not mad.

“Oh,” Spencer said, pondering your response. “But you haven’t been talking to me.”

Finally, you turned to face him, your expression guarded. “I’m talking to you right now, aren’t I?” you said, playing dumb, trying to keep the conversation as surface-level as possible.

“Y/N,” he sighed, his tone more serious now. “You know what I mean. You never texted me back. And you left movie night.”

You forced a laugh, though it felt hollow. “Well, duh, why would I want to be around when my friend’s fuck buddy is there?” you said, as if it were a joke, though there was a biting edge to your words.

Spencer laughed, but it was a dejected sound, lacking the usual warmth. “Ouch. That’s all I am?”

“Isn’t it?” you replied, your voice sharper than you intended. You couldn’t help the bitterness that crept into your tone.

Spencer nodded, his expression growing more serious. “Look, I put myself out there a few times, and you shot me down, so—”

“Oh my god, that is so not what this is about, Spencer,” you interrupted, your frustration bubbling over. How could he be so oblivious?

“No? Then why are you acting like this?” Spencer asked, his confusion evident. He genuinely didn’t seem to understand what was going on.

“God, you’re dense,” you muttered, shaking your head in exasperation. “Just… be nice to Anders, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Spencer agreed quietly, his gaze dropping to the floor.

And there it was—confirmation that he was still sleeping with Anders. A wave of disappointment washed over you, the last bit of hope you had clung to slipping away. If Spencer had really liked you, if he had genuinely wanted to be with you, wouldn’t he have stopped all his other conquests and focused on pursuing you? But he hadn’t. He was still entangled with your friend, and that spoke volumes.

Oh well, you thought to yourself, trying to brush off the sinking feeling in your chest. Maybe you had been foolish to think there could have been something more between you and Spencer. Maybe it was time to let go of whatever feelings you had and move on, just like Anders had.

—

At another movie night, you could feel the excitement radiating off Anders from the moment you walked through the door. He was practically bouncing on his feet, unable to contain the big news he was bursting to share.

“Y/N! You will not believe this!” Anders squealed, practically jumping up and down. “His name is Hugh and ugh, he’s so yummy!”

You couldn’t help but smile at his enthusiasm. “Really? Tell me more,” you urged, genuinely curious.

“He’s amazing!” Anders continued, his eyes lighting up. “He holds the door open for me, pulls my chair out, and always makes sure I finish first. He’s such a gentleman!”

“That’s great, Andy,” you said, smiling warmly at him. You could tell how happy he was, and it warmed your heart to see your friend so giddy and content.

“I know, right?” Anders clapped his hands together, unable to contain his joy. “And guess what? He asked me to be his boyfriend! Can you believe that?”

Your eyes widened in surprise. “What? Did you say yes?”

“Of course I did!” Anders giggled, his happiness practically infectious. “He’s everything I’ve been looking for!”

You hesitated for a moment, the question that had been nagging at you since your last conversation with Spencer lingering in the back of your mind. You had to know. “So…did you cut things off with Spencer?”

Anders rolled his eyes playfully and waved a hand dismissively. “Duh! I’m a slut, not a monster.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at his candid response, feeling a strange mix of relief and something else. “I’m glad, Andy. Hugh sounds like a really great guy.”

“He is!” Anders beamed, his face glowing with happiness. “I’m so excited, Y/N. I really think this could be something special.”

You smiled, genuinely happy for your friend. “I’m sure it will be, Andy. You deserve someone who treats you like the amazing person you are.”

Anders gave you a big hug, squeezing you tightly. “Thank you, babe.”

As you hugged him back, you felt a sense of peace wash over you. Knowing that Anders had moved on, and that things with Spencer were over, helped ease some of the tension that had been weighing on you. It was clear now that Anders had found something real with Hugh, and maybe that meant it was time for you to move forward too.

For the first time in weeks, you felt a glimmer of hope that things might actually work out, not just for Anders, but for yourself as well.

—

You stared at the text on your phone, the all-too-familiar You up? glowing on the screen. It was so cliché, so typical of Spencer to send that kind of message at 10 p.m. You rolled your eyes, feeling a mix of annoyance and frustration bubbling up inside you. After everything, this was how he reached out? You didn’t dignify it with a response, instead turning on your read receipts and locking your phone. Let him know you saw it, and let him stew in it.

A few seconds later, your phone buzzed again.

Y/N.

The second message made your frustration spike even more. You read it, let it sit there, and ignored it again. Why should you give him the satisfaction of a reply? He had plenty of chances to talk, to say what needed to be said, and now, after you’d started to move on, he decided he needed to talk? 

The next message, however, caught your attention.

Please, I need to talk to you.

You hesitated for a moment, your finger hovering over the screen. Against your better judgment, you finally replied, the words coming out more curtly than you intended.

Get it out quickly then.

You stared at your phone, waiting for Spencer to respond. Seconds turned into minutes, and still nothing. The longer you waited, the more irritated you became. Why did he always have to make things so difficult? You scoffed after 30 minutes, tossing your phone aside with a bitter laugh. 

What an asshole, you thought. You had given him the chance to say whatever he needed to say, and now he was the one ignoring you? The nerve of it made your blood boil. You were done with this game.

But then, just as you were about to brush it off entirely, there was a knock at your front door.

You froze, your heart skipping a beat as the sound echoed through your apartment. For a moment, you just stared at the door, your mind racing with a thousand thoughts. Who could it be at this hour? And then it hit you—Spencer.

With a bit of reluctance and curiosity, you got up and walked to the door, your footsteps soft on the floor. When you reached it, you hesitated for a second, taking a deep breath before finally opening it.

There he was, standing in the dim light of the hallway, looking more vulnerable than you’d ever seen him. His usual confident demeanor was gone, replaced by something raw and uncertain. The sight of him standing there, so close and yet so far, made your heart clench.

“Y/N,” Spencer said quietly, his voice almost a whisper. “Can I come in?”

You stared at him, your emotions swirling in a chaotic mess. Part of you wanted to slam the door in his face, to tell him to leave and never come back. But another part, the part that still cared despite everything, wanted to know what he had to say, to understand why he was here.

“Why are you here, Spencer?” you asked, your voice guarded as you crossed your arms.

He took a deep breath, his eyes meeting yours with an intensity that made your resolve waver. “Because I couldn’t wait any longer. I need to talk to you. Please, just give me a few minutes.”

You didn’t move, your mind racing as you tried to decide what to do. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, you stepped aside and opened the door wider, letting him in. 

Spencer walked past you, his shoulders tense, and you could feel the weight of whatever he was carrying with him. As you closed the door behind him, you prepared yourself for whatever was about to come, knowing that this conversation would change everything—one way or another.

"Alright, speak," you said, your tone flat as you stood by the front door, making it clear that you weren't about to give Spencer the comfort of sitting down. If he wanted to talk, he could do it on your terms.

Spencer looked pained at your coldness, his eyes searching yours for any sign of the warmth that used to be there. "Anders ended things," he finally said, his voice strained.

"I know," you replied, your voice still devoid of emotion.

He looked surprised by your response, his brows knitting together in confusion. "Okay, well, I'm done with that. With the casual thing."

"Okay," you echoed, your tone unchanged. You weren't giving him anything, and you could see the frustration mounting in his expression.

Spencer's face was full of desperation as he took a step closer, his voice pleading. "Y/N, I want you."

"Interesting," you replied, the word dripping with indifference. It was a far cry from the response he was hoping for, and you could see the effect it had on him.

He groaned, running his hands through his hair in exasperation. "What did I do to you?"

You narrowed your eyes, feeling a surge of anger at his question. The nerve of him to act like he didn’t know, like he hadn’t been the one to string you along while still entertaining other options. "Do you want a list?"

Spencer looked taken aback, his shoulders slumping as he realized just how deep the hurt ran. "I didn’t mean to hurt you," he said quietly, his voice laced with regret. "I didn’t know—"

"You didn’t know?" you cut him off, your voice rising slightly as the frustration that had been building inside you finally found an outlet. "You didn’t know that sleeping with my friend while pretending to care about me might hurt? You didn’t know that making me feel like I was just another option would push me away?"

Spencer flinched at your words, his eyes filled with guilt. "It wasn’t like that. I was confused—I didn’t know how to handle what I was feeling. But I know now. I know I want you."

You let out a bitter laugh, shaking your head. "Anders ended things with you, and now you want me? Is that it, Spencer? Am I just your backup plan?"

"No, it’s not like that!" Spencer protested, his voice desperate. "I’ve wanted you from the beginning, but I didn’t know how to tell you. I was scared you didn’t feel the same way, so I kept things casual with Anders because it was easier."

"Easier?" you repeated, the word tasting bitter on your tongue. "You were too scared to put yourself out there with me, so you settled for something convenient. And now that that’s over, you think you can just waltz in here and tell me you want me, and everything will be okay?"

Spencer looked stricken, his eyes pleading with you to understand. "I know I messed up. I know I hurt you, and I hate myself for it. But I’m here now, trying to make it right. I’m not asking you to forgive me right away, but please, just give me a chance."

You stared at him, your heart aching with the weight of everything that had happened. You wanted to believe him, wanted to let yourself fall into the hope that things could be different. But the pain was still too fresh, the wounds too deep.

"I don’t know if I can do this," you admitted, your voice cracking slightly as you finally let some of your emotions show. "You hurt me, Spencer. You made me feel like I wasn’t good enough, like I was just another option. I don’t know if I can trust you not to do that again."

Spencer took a step closer, his eyes locked on yours. "I’m not going to hurt you again. I swear. I was an idiot, and I didn’t see what was right in front of me. But I see it now. I see you. And I want you more than anything."

You swallowed hard, feeling tears prick at the corners of your eyes. "I need time," you whispered, your voice barely audible. "I can’t just jump into this. I need to figure out if I can trust you."

Spencer nodded, his expression earnest. "Take all the time you need. I’ll wait as long as it takes. Just… don’t shut me out completely. Please."

You looked at him, seeing the sincerity in his eyes, and for the first time, you felt a glimmer of hope that maybe, just maybe, things could be different. But it wasn’t going to be easy. There were still a lot of wounds that needed to heal.

"Okay," you finally said, your voice trembling slightly. "But no promises, Spencer. I need to protect myself."

"I understand," Spencer replied, his voice soft. "I’ll do whatever it takes to earn your trust."

With that, you both stood there in silence, the tension slowly easing as the gravity of the moment settled between you. It wasn’t a resolution, but it was a start. And for now, that was enough.

—

Spencer stayed true to his word. He tried—really tried—to show you that he was serious about earning back your trust. And with each small gesture, he began to chip away at the walls you had built around your heart.

It started with little things, the kind that spoke volumes without saying a word. One day, a bouquet of your favorite flowers showed up at your apartment, their vibrant colors brightening up your living room. You stared at them for a long time, a mix of emotions swirling inside you. You hadn’t mentioned those flowers in a long time, but Spencer had remembered.

Then, it happened again, this time at your office. Another bouquet, just like the first, with a small note attached that simply said, “Thinking of you. -Spencer.” You couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at your lips, despite the lingering caution in your heart.

As the days went on, you started finding coffee and pastries from your favorite bakery on your desk at work, always timed perfectly with when you arrived. There was never any fanfare, no messages or notes—just the simple presence of something you loved, waiting for you. It was as if Spencer was reminding you, in the subtlest of ways, that he was paying attention, that he cared.

But it wasn’t just the thoughtful gifts that caught your attention. Every night, like clockwork, your phone would buzz with a picture. It was always the same—Spencer, alone in bed, a soft, almost shy smile on his face as he looked into the camera. No words accompanied the photos, but the message was clear. He was alone, thinking of you, wanting you to know that you were on his mind before he fell asleep.

And then, there was the location sharing. One day, out of the blue, you received a notification on your phone that Spencer had shared his location with you indefinitely. You stared at the message, a mix of surprise and confusion washing over you. It was a level of transparency you hadn’t expected, and it made your heart ache with the realization that he was really trying—really showing you that he had nothing to hide.

Slowly, despite your best efforts to stay guarded, you found yourself softening. Each gesture, each reminder that Spencer was thinking of you, began to ease the tension that had been coiled so tightly inside you. It didn’t erase the hurt, and it didn’t magically fix everything, but it made you believe that maybe, just maybe, he was worth taking a chance on.

One evening, after receiving yet another picture of Spencer alone in bed, you finally caved. You picked up your phone and sent a quick message, simple but full of meaning.

Thank you.

It wasn’t much, but it was a start. A way to let him know that his efforts hadn’t gone unnoticed, that you were beginning to see the sincerity behind his actions. And as you waited for his reply, a small part of you began to hope that maybe, just maybe, this time things could be different.

Spencer’s response came almost immediately, a single word that made your heart flutter.

Always.

And in that moment, you realized that perhaps, for the first time in a long time, you weren’t just waiting for the other shoe to drop. You were beginning to believe that this time, Spencer really meant it. That he was really trying to be the man you deserved. And that maybe, just maybe, you could let yourself believe in him too.

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[vaultdwellerbarbie]

guilty as sin?

cooper adams/f!reader (5.9k wc)

summary upon coming home from your senior year of college, you find out that cooper has volunteered to help watch your sister while your parents are on holiday. just what you need - being home alone with the hot dad from down the street for a week.

content warnings smut, unsafe sex, creampie, vaginal fingering, oral sex (f!receiving), age difference, dark/canon-typical subject material (ie. takes place post trap and it's not cheating because rachel died and he got away au), the ending i guess can kind of be interpreted as dark but it's also like... not that dark

cooper gets a fic named after my favorite taylor swift song. cooper is just that special! i love him. this actually was not the cooper fic i was halfway done writing last night but i had this idea while i was at the cinema seeing trap again and just kind went with it. more cooper soon.

Coming home from college was hard enough - sure, you had a reprieve from your classes for the summer, but you were also moving around and not being in direct contact with your new friends for a few months. It became worse when you realized what questions you were going to be met with by just about everyone in your life for the next three months. “Oh, you just graduated? What next? Grad school, why? What about internships? Any jobs lined up? What was college like? Meet any cute boys?” It was sickening even thinking about it.

With that in mind, you wanted to do your best to do a low-profile. Avoid the neighbors who you were certain were going to ask questions, attend as few little parties in the neighborhood as possible, and definitely don’t interact with the man at the end of the street. 

Cooper Adams had always been a problem for you. When you were younger, you were too nervous to be around him and typically hid in the corner whenever he was in the same place as you. It was unfortunate that he was good friends with your father, since that meant that you were around him a lot more than you wanted to be. Having met him when you were freshly eighteen, you figured that the way that your stomach filled with a disturbing fluttery feeling and your body miraculously always broke out in a sweat when he was near was simply something to do with being a legal adult for the first time. It was surely just exciting to be around an attractive older man now that he wasn’t (legally) off limits for you.

But Cooper was off limits. He was married with two children. He was friends with your father, and his daughter was best friends with your younger sister - by the time you came back from your freshman year of college, your mother was seemingly best friends with his wife. You’d hoped, by then, those feelings would have gone away since you were surrounded by people who were viable partners, but those feelings never quite went away. 

Any boy your age you tried to sleep with was a let down, nothing they did could make you orgasm. So, you tried girls, and that didn’t work either. You branched out to older men, and that worked a little - but the entire time you just wished that you were with Cooper, that was what ultimately brought you over the edge. So, with four (failed) total partners and one total orgasm - courtesy mainly of your imagination - you decided that you were just going to quit sex and romance all together since you could never, ever, sleep with Cooper Adams.

He’d talk to you, sure. He made friendly conversation and offered you some wine when he knew that you were twenty-one, he even invited you to a concert with him and his daughter since your little sister was going with them. He was always kind to you, but that just made you more irritated because you liked talking to him. It was infuriating, and you wanted to spend as little time down the street as possible if you could help it this summer. Your mind would linger on Cooper, you’d think about him late at night when you were in bed, and you’d wonder if he could see you when you were tasked with walking the family dog from time to time, but that was it. You could not be anywhere near him, because you knew he’d talk to you, and you knew you’d like it, and you knew that he was just going to continue to be a massive (emphasis on massive, since he’s so tall and broad that you’re pretty sure he could throw a person with little effort) issue for you. 

Things typically don’t work out for you when it comes to Cooper, though. 

Try as you may to convince your parents that you were just fine with watching your sister for a week while they traveled Europe together, they were certain that would be placing too much of a burden on you since it was only two weeks after you got back from a strenuous semester. Nay nay, they insisted, Cooper volunteered since Rachel is out of town with her parents - he really only needs to be there at night, they said. He can come over after work, they said, it’s just fine, they said! You love Cooper and your sister can spend plenty of time with Riley! It’s a win-win, they insisted. 

What they didn’t quite consider was that you quite literally had nothing to do. Making friends in Philadelphia wasn’t particularly hard - plenty of people around, a nice night life, but mainly you knew that most of your friends had moved away. At some point, you were going to start a summer job, but the job market was absolutely horrendous and it was taking longer than you thought it would to get one. So, with little gas money and no where in particular to go, you really weren’t burdened by watching your sister who wasn’t even there during the day; there was no reason, you figured, for Cooper to need to be in your home at five sharp every afternoon, but he was. 

The first day was fine, overall. Your sister spend the day out with one of her friends from school and came home around four in the afternoon. She begged you to play video games with her, and you were only slightly embarrassed to answer the door for Cooper while fully invested in playing Roblox. 

Cooper, who stood in front of you with a big smile on his face that told you that he was about to either stab you or hug you - sometimes you just couldn’t tell with him, he smiled almost too much. 

“I heard you graduated, congratulations!” Hug it was, then.

You accepted the embrace, but you were sure that he could feel how warm you were against him. Naturally, nobody was that warm, but he really did always make you spontaneously break out in a sweat. “From undergrad, yeah, I’m going to grad school in the fall though.”

“For anything in particular?” He asked, pulling back. Cooper kept a respectable distance, he always did, but you let him close it slightly when you actually let him inside of the house. 

“Still figuring that out.” You responded, leading him to where the kitchen was located in the house. “I’m assuming my parents wanted you to cook, but that kinda… mean. I can cook with you.” 

“Oh, I offered, don’t worry about it.” His voice was reassuring, and if you were being smart, you would just tell him that was fine and go about your business. But you wanted to be accommodating, and the smart part of you that knew it was wise to keep your distance from Cooper just seemed to shut off whenever he was around. Somehow, you always tried to spend even more time with him knowing that you’d just regret it later. Like drinking a coffee late at night or something. 

“You’re still getting used to this kitchen, though. It’s really no problem for me to help you.” 

“I suppose I could always use an extra set of hands.” He responded, setting the grocery bags he had come with down. “But, you have to promise to follow my instructions. I’m very particular about recipes.” 

“You can trust me, I think.” 

“Just try your best, I’m sure you’ll get it.” 

Cooper, despite only having been inside of your home a few times, really had no issue getting acclimated to cooking in your kitchen. He had no issue taking charge, and certainly no issue when making sure that you were doing the right thing. He was incredibly meticulous and organized, but you already knew that from having experienced his behavior and having been in his house before. 

The issue wasn’t so much cooking with him, because you were both pretty into what you were doing. He was methodical, and you were just trying to please him and make sure that you didn’t mess up the food that you were about to eat. The issue was that you were into what you were doing, because you were so distracted that you only realized when the food was in the oven that his hair had started hanging partially in his face. That his hand sometimes grazed your own, and that he was standing about as close as he did when you were at barbeque’s with him and he knew that you weren’t going to be able to hear him otherwise; so close that you were always worried that his wife was going to get mad at you if you moved just a centimeter closer to him. But she wasn’t here right now, and your movement was so imperceptible that you were certain he didn’t even notice it while he cleaned up your cupboards - something that, truly, you probably should have offered to do but you were just so… fascinated by watching him. Plus, he probably wanted that done a particular way, too. 

“Your parents told me you put up quite an argument against me helping out this week.” He finally turned to you, your proximity much more noticeable. But he didn’t move away, he simply folded the towel that he was using at set it down on the cupboard. 

“I just didn’t want you to be inconvenienced… my parents seem to think I have places to be but I don’t.” 

“It’s really no trouble at all,” He was too close, and you were certain that he had moved even closer. You felt like you were so warm you could implode, your needed to take your cardigan off, something to get some relief. “Do you need to air conditioner turned up? You’re a little clammy.” 

His hand on your forehead was the next thing you felt, your eyes not leaving his face for an second, but it was in that instant that you knew that he knew exactly what he was doing to you. 

“You’re burning up, honey. Do you want to sit down?”

“Just dehydrated.” Your voice probably helped sell it, since you could barely get the words out of your throat. Cooper’s hand fell from your forehead, but not without grazing your cheek. Whatever lack of arousal you had felt around other people who you had actively tried to be aroused with was a thing of the past with Cooper, you were pretty sure that you had never been so aroused in your life as you were now, and all he had done was touched your face for less than a minute - how did he have such a hold over you? 

“Let me get you some water.” He turned to the fridge, grabbing a bottle that he was certain belonged to you from the stickers adorning the side. “This you?”

“Mhm.” Holding your hand out, you expected him to just give it to you, but his new goal in life seemed to be tormenting you. He popped the lid open and held it out to you, but he didn’t let you take it from his hand. “Cooper-”

“I’m just taking care of you, we wouldn’t want you to pass out.” He was too close, suffocatingly close, and he was pressing the bottle’s plastic nub to your lips - it was overwhelming. “Drink, please.” 

The sexual nature of what he was doing wasn’t lost on you as you wrapped your lips around the plastic, taking a sip of your water. His eyes were locked on yours, his lips slightly parted as he watched you. He seemed fascinated, but he also definitely knew that everything he was doing had one simple effect on you. Once you were finished with the water. He closed it and reached past you to set it down. 

“You seem so pent up, have the boys at school not been treating you well?” Cooper brought a hand to your forehead, brushing some hair out of your face. You weren’t even sure that this was actually happening, but you went along with it regardless because it was definitely happening.

“I gave up on that like two years ago.” 

“And why’s that?”

“Cooper-” You weren’t sure what exactly to say, but just based upon the way he was looking at you, you were almost convinced that he knew the exact reason. 

“I just want to hear you say it, who did you wish was touching you?”

“I-Is this happening? Am I hallucinating?”

“You’re not hallucinating,” He stepped a bit closer, and any worries that you had about someone walking in were off of your mind - your sister was probably still entranced with her game anyway. “I think it would be rude to pinch a young lady, so I’ll just have to show you another way.” 

The feeling of Cooper’s mouth on yours was immediate, and your response was quicker than you would ever admit to anyone. Your hand grabbed onto his forearm, grounding you while you kissed him back. But his kiss was tantalizingly slow, he knew that he was taunting you and leaving you on edge. For whatever reason, he seemed to be getting enjoyment out of that, but you couldn’t claim that you weren’t enjoying this more than even you believed that you ever would. 

He pulled away after a moment, though. “Can you answer my question now?”

“I was… they couldn’t please me.”

“Why not?” 

“Because they weren’t you.” 

“You’re so sweet.” He pressed a kiss to the corner of your mouth, but pulled away and checked on the food the moment that the timer went off as though nothing had happened. “Why don’t you set the table.”

Wordlessly, you set the dinner table for three - you had been expecting Riley and her little brother to be over, but your sister had explained earlier that Riley and her brother were going to be over for the rest of the week, but not tonight. some sort of obligation that they couldn’t get out of with another family member even though it meant that Cooper needed to drive them there, pick them up, and still deal with babysitting your younger sister and cooking dinner; even though he had volunteered and your complaints had been relatively selfish, you still felt like you were putting too much on his plate. 

Still, your mind was lingering elsewhere. Namely, you couldn’t shake the feeling of his lips on yours, of the way that he looked at you and touched you, how badly you wanted him to do much more than that. How this had even happened was something that you just couldn’t put your finger on. Never had you gotten the impression that Cooper would ever do anything to pursue you. Your families were so close, it was such a risk - but what had happened was real, it did happen, you definitely hadn’t made it up. 

There was a sense of guilt in your mind. In the past, your thoughts were just thoughts. You had never acted on them, and so you couldn’t feel bad for pining over a married man who you knew you could never, and would never, have anything with. But kissing him was already bad enough, hoping that more would happen by the time your sister went to bed made it much worse. It was true that your thoughts were only natural, but you had a responsibility not to act on them - to keep them as pure fantasy. And yet, all you wanted was to forget about that and find out what he looked like underneath his shirt. 

Shaking that thought from your mind as you called for your sister, you joined the two of them for dinner. She carried most of the conversation, but when it shifted to you, you did your best to not show how dazed you had been as you contemplated that anything that was going on meant. Nor did you know how to react when she expressed that a friend down the street had invited her to spend the night, when you were given the authority to decide whether that was okay or not. Normally, it was a yes. Your parents would have said yes, your sister had no school since she had just been let on summer vacation a few days ago, and you had no reason to say no. It shouldn’t have taken as much contemplation as it did, but the expectant way that Cooper looked at you told you simply that your not-so-innocent thoughts had the capacity to become a reality if she wasn’t there for the night.

Against your better judgment, you said yes. 

With that looming in your mind for the rest of dinner, you were reluctant to walk her down the street to see her friend. It was almost a shame how close-knit this community was, because without that you probably wouldn’t even be as close with Cooper as you were to begin with and she certainly wouldn’t be spending the night with someone on a whim. But, here you were. Even the cool night air couldn’t do much to calm you as you recognized that Cooper was still going to be in your home by the time that you got back, and you were going to have to face whatever decision you had made earlier when you let him kiss you. 

Walking back through the doors of your home, you tried your best to act normal under the circumstances. Cooper was just finishing up packing the leftover food into the fridge, and you almost wanted to go straight to your room - but that wasn’t going to solve anything. You were an adult, with adult feelings toward another adult, and you needed to do the responsible thing and face them head-on. It just so happened that the responsible thing, truly, would be telling him that what was happening was wrong, that he was married and at least twenty years older than you… and it also just so happened that you knew that you weren’t going to do that. 

“Cooper?”

“What’s up?” 

What was up? What was your plan in approaching him? ‘Hey Cooper, wanna have sex?’ didn’t really seem like the right move. “Do you need any help?”

“I’m just finishing up, thank you though.” He replied, cleaning off the cupboard one last time before approaching you. “Did you need anything else before I go?”

“You know, you don’t have to go back home. It’s getting late, it could be dangerous.”

“I’m sure I’ll be okay.” He replied, but he didn’t move. Once again, it seemed like he was waiting on you to make the move - but he was letting you, he wanted you to, he seemed to be getting off on making you ask him for it. 

“And you’ll be all alone, you could get bored.”

“I’m pretty tired, I bet I’ll pass right out.”

“I’m scared of being in the house alone, I might need company.” 

“Well we can’t have that, can we?” He stepped a bit closer to you, his large hand covering your cheek. “Do you want me to stay? To protect you?”

“Please stay.” 

“Do you want me to… sleep on the couch?”

“I imagine a bed would be more comfortable.” 

Cooper hummed, but shrugged his shoulders. “Last time I checked, you don’t have a spare bedroom.”

“Cooper-”

“Tell me what you want, or I can’t do anything for you.” 

It was wrong, and you knew that, and he did too. You both knew that what you were doing was wrong. Yet, for whatever reason, he wasn’t stopping it - maybe he was just lonely since his wife was out of town for an undisclosed period of time, some family emergency that you didn’t even know about until your parents told you. Maybe he had been waiting to finally get you alone, maybe he had noticed those longing glances that you were sending him when you figured that he wouldn’t catch you.

“How long have you known?” You asked, your voice shaking a bit.

“Remember that pool party Cindy threw down the street last summer?”

“Yeah…”

“I distinctly remember you, quiet as ever, piping up to complain tirelessly about me refusing to swim.” 

“I mean, they were the first family on the block to get a pool. You were really missing out.” 

“Right… but that wasn’t why you complained, was it?”

“No, not really.” 

“And why did you complain?”

“Because I wanted you to take your shirt off.” You replied, not really knowing what to say other than the truth. Cooper was intelligent, you knew that. He had you figured out even though you were certain that you had kept your distance enough that he wouldn’t have. But, you took solace in the fact that it had taken three years of quiet pining for him to figure it out. “But what made you want… assuming you want to… you know-”

“I’m not sure, exactly.” Not really the best answer, but you knew that he was going to elaborate. “A good answer would be seeing you in your little shorts, or in that bathing suit at the pool party. But I think the first time I thought about it was when you were over around Thanksgiving, fully covered in one of those cute sweaters you like so much.”

“Do you still want me to ask you to have sex with me?”

“I think you just did.” 

Cooper’s lips were pressed against yours again before you could even really contemplate the consequences of it. Whatever issues you were going to have with yourself in the morning for doing this with him were just going to have to be issues for a future version of yourself. For now, the only thing that mattered was how delicately he pushed you against the wall. How he let your fingers roam under his shirt, playing with the hem of it until he disconnected his lips from yours, given you a moment to breathe.

“Would you mind leading me to your bedroom? If your past partners have been unsatisfactory, you at least deserve to do this on a bed.”

Quickly, you nodded and took his hand. Cooper followed you as you brought him into your room, looking around at the items that you had collected. Your room was rather clean, sparing the suitcase that you hadn’t fully unpacked since returning home that sat half-open in the corner of the room. He seemed interested in the posters and albums that filled your room, interested in knowing what each of them actually was since you hardly let him speak to you to begin with. But, he was mainly interested in getting your shirt off and tossing it into your clothing basket - it being in the basket was of particular importance to him. 

He let you remove his shirt as well, your eyes finally taking in the sight of him without it on. You weren’t particularly surprised that he looked good underneath his shirt, you expected nothing less of him. Yet, you couldn’t help the way that your fingers grazed over his skin before finally meeting his eyes. Cooper had his fingers underneath the hem of your leggings rather quickly, watching to see if you were resistant of that for a moment - when he saw no disagreement in your face, he quickly removed the article of clothing from your body before urging you to get onto the bed. 

Admittedly, you wished that you had a larger bed than what you did simply for this purpose - not that you had sex very often, but simply because you felt like you were cramping Cooper. If he minded, he didn’t let on. 

“What was it that those people at school didn’t do for you?” He asked, situating himself in between your legs once you were both on the bed. “Did they not pay enough attention to you? Not worry more about your pleasure than theirs?”

“I don’t even think it was an equal amount.” 

“Well, let’s fix that.” Cooper’s lips were delicate against yours, but they were also fleeting. It wasn’t long before he was kissing down your chest, his hands moving to your back to undo your bra. While you shrugged it off of your body, he took it from your hands to make sure that it ended up in the basket of your dirty clothes. Some part of your mind contemplated the fact that his shirt was in there too, that his scent could linger on your clothing until you washed it, but did you really need to be concerned about that when there was an even better chance that his scent was going to linger in your bed? On your skin? 

His lips distracted you from your thoughts, wrapping gingerly around one of your nipples while his hand descended lower on your body. You could feel his fingers pushing underneath the fabric of your panties, roaming slower and collecting the wetness that you knew had started pooling the moment that you saw him in the doorway.

“Have any of them ever made you this wet before?”

“Only when I started thinking about you.” It was the truth, you had gotten this wet before  during another sexual encounter - it just so happened that it was because you were fantasizing about Cooper during it. 

“That’s a no, then.” 

His fingers were much thicker than yours, that was what you noticed the moment that he pushed them inside of you. He could reach deeper than you could, and it didn’t even seem to be something that he was purposefully trying to do when the heel of his hand ground against your clit as his fingers moved within your cunt. His lips continued to kiss along your skin, your quiet moans spurring him on as he brought another hand to the hem of the fabric of your panties. It almost felt unfair that he still had his pants on throughout this, but you couldn’t bring yourself to really think about that once he had your panties off of your body and his lips pressed gently against your hipbone. 

“Have you ever let anyone put their mouth here?” He inquired, venturing lower and glancing up at you as his teeth sunk into the skin of your thigh.

“Once.”

“And did you finish?”

“I pretended to.” 

“Poor thing, you’re not going to have to pretend with me.” His voice was gentle and reassuring, but it was clear that there were undertones to it that you’ve never heard from him before. 

There really was no time to linger on that, though, as his mouth finally connected with your cunt. His fingers still moved within you, seemingly he had figured out just how to move them to make you moan just a little bit louder. There was some part of you that felt like you needed to try to be quiet, like there was some risk that you were going to get caught even though you knew that wasn’t going to happen. If your sister had to come back, she’d call you. If something came up in any other capacity, you were certain that you would know. There was no way that someone was going to catch you, and no nosy neighbor was going to discuss Cooper having been here until late into the night since everyone knew that he was going to be here. If anything, you weren’t particularly lying when you said that you were nervous to be in the house alone! You’d been spending months in a dorm with people, and when you got back you had been with family. Being alone did make you kind of nervous, so you weren’t actually being dishonest and it wouldn’t be very hard to tell people that if anyone did question if anything happened. 

Regardless, you knew that what you were doing with Cooper was wrong. That alone was enough to make you on edge, but that edginess continually slipped away as his lips latched onto your clit and his fingers curled at just the right angle inside of you to make you feel like you were going to lose your mind. 

Cooper was right, you were incredibly pent up from having spent so long not having any conquests - and, when you had conquests, it just never brought you to the finish line. You needed this, and you specifically needed it with him. 

Your fingers tangled in his hair without you really thinking about what you were doing, and that just made Cooper continue what he was doing with a bit more vigor. He liked the feeling of you touching him, the feeling of you this close. He really had been thinking about it for quite some time, and it only helped a little bit that your little worry about him being married wasn’t that much of a worry for him. 

When he did feel you pulsating around his fingers, he knew that you were close. He continued to work you to the edge, your fingers tightening around his hair as his name escaped your lips more times than you probably even noticed. Finally, you felt the relief of an orgasm flow through you as you came on his fingers, his movements only stalling when he knew that you were coming down from that high.

Your eyes were a bit dazed as you looked at him, as he moved up your body and laughed at how eager you were to pull his lips back to yours. Cooper helped you as you moved to undo his pants, tossing them into the hamper as well before removing the boxers that kept him separated from you. 

“Sure you can take it?”

“Please, Cooper, I’m sure.”

Cooper moved one of his hands to take yours, “Squeeze if you need to.” Being the only thing leaving his mouth. His concern was based in reality - you hadn’t had anyone inside of you in years, and even then, he was bigger than anyone that you had been with before, both in stature and in what he was packing beneath his pants. Of course, you expected this from him. He was tall, he had large hands, you knew the signs. 

Your hand did squeeze his a bit, but the moment he knew you were comfortable was the moment that he started moving. He really didn’t waste any time, his hips snapping into yours and leaving you a whimpering mess underneath him - but that was, ultimately, what Cooper wanted from you. 

“You’re doing so well, being such a good girl; I knew you’d be good for me.” His praise brought that familiar (sickening) fluttering back to your stomach, but you did your best to mask it with another kiss. It was sloppier than it was before, his teeth digging slightly into your lower lip and his tongue pressing against yours. You could taste yourself on his tongue, and that alone was enough to make you yearn for more. More of this, more encounters like this. You’d wanted him for so long, and now the idea of this only happening once was absolutely devastating to you. 

“It feels so good, Cooper - so much better than anyone else.”

“I know, baby, you just needed me to take care of you.” He kept a hand planted on your face, his thumb stroking your cheek. His eyes were so warm, but there was a bit of a darkness behind them - a darkness that you were assuming was lust, though it could always be something more. 

His other hand moved lower, his finger coming in contact with your clit again. Everything he did felt so good, you were certain that nobody had ever made you feel this good before - and you were also certain that nobody else ever would. But, was it not just how badly that you wanted him in particular that had made everyone else pale in comparison? Truly, they probably just never had a fair chance.

Cooper was experienced, but he also seemed to be figuring out exactly what you wanted moment by moment. He seemed focused on making sure that he was pleasing you, but, in the process, his grunts and groans didn’t go unnoticed. To the contrary, each one of them went straight to your core. Truthfully, Cooper had been pent up for a while as well - longer than you actually knew. 

That was probably why neither of you stood a chance at lasting longer than you did, and probably why neither of you even considered the ramifications of him not pulling out of you. But the feeling of him finishing inside of you, of feeling somehow even more full of him than you did before, did something to you. The sight of him above you as you both came to terms with what had happened, as his soft hair hung over his forehead and his eyes - glazed with lust - found yours, you knew that he had ruined any chance of you ever wanting anyone other than him.

“Cooper,” You started, not really sure where to go from there… but you’d had sex with him, hadn’t you? What qualms could you really have about speaking your mind anymore? “You should spend the night.” 

“We’re going to shower first, okay?”

“Alright, okay.” 

So, you took showers (separately, to your chagrin, but he had to use your father’s shower products), and he ultimately did join you in your small, relatively cramped bed. Even as you fell asleep on his chest that night, you were worried that it wouldn’t happen again - that he just wasn’t as interested as you. After all, you were a fun idea, a younger woman who wanted him so badly that you’d do anything he asked of you, not someone to bring home to his children who are only about ten years younger than you. Besides that, Cooper was still married, right?

But you really didn’t have the full picture. 

Cooper, legally, was still married. But you’d saved yourself a lot of trouble refusing to go to that concert with him, that concert that had been a setup from Rachel. It was an odd coincidence that she had a family emergency right after, especially for Riley who was on top of the world before her mother was gone without much word. It was going to be a problem when it became clear that she was actually gone, but for now, that guilt that you felt about potentially being a mistress was… probably not the worry that you should have. But Cooper was happy to keep that from you, at least for now, for as long as he needed to. 

After all, maybe you’d be happier with him than you would have been at grad school? Maybe you wouldn’t turn him into the police if you ever grew suspicious of what exactly he did in his free time. All he knew was that you’d tried - even if you hadn’t realized you were trying - to get him wrapped around your finger, and it had worked. Now, he had you wrapped around his, and he just didn’t really feel like letting that go any time soon. Of course, you wouldn’t protest being with him for longer - he knew that, you wanted to keep him in your life, and he always enjoyed giving you what you wanted.

[mellosdrawings]

Hii I just want to say that your art is so wonderful, and especially the recent ship/rare-ish pair art that you made (I already love leovil a whole lot, and you kinda kindled a liking to leojami in me haha, and so all three of them together is such a cute and funny treat!!🩷🩷🩷) like idk how to explain it, but the ship art is just so,,,, warm and comfy,,, i love finding safe spaces for ships and you became a new fav of mine!! :D

AJSHSJSHS Thank you so much! I'm so happy you like my stuff!

I'm glad you consider this blog a safe space. I strive not to judge and try a many things as possible so sometimes I like to just... mash two people together as long as I find one interesting thing about their canon relationship. (Can you believe I used to be not too hot about rare pairs and then suddenly I got a couple friends who completely changed my mind about that with their writings haha)

To thank you for the kind comment, here's one more cute N2 Squad doodle I did recently.

(Because Leona deserves all the hugs, even if he pretends not to care about it!)

[coralinnii]

I saw your request were open and got super excited so here’s my request it’s kind of long so I hope you don’t mind

So the idea is that the beast people have mates and you can feel your partner through the bond and it’s not obvious or some kind of communication link, but you can feel that they’re there, and when you see them you know that’s your mate, like that’s who you’re meant to spend your life with. But Leona has never been able to feel the other side of the bond like he was supposed to. And that was just one more thing his brother had that he didn’t. And then all the sudden one day he can feel some thing on the other side of his bond (when the prefect is magically, transported to twisted wonderland) And when he finally see them he know that they are his mate

And congrats on 2.7

❋ We finally meet ❋

↳ Leona finally meeting his soulmate

feat: Leona

genre: hurt/comfort, open happy ending(?)

note: no pronouns used with the reader, Leona is an emotionally constipated jerk (I’m sorry), follows game-canon storyline through Book 3

I genuinely did not think this would be as sad as I thought, but Leona… he got some issues… and I have met people like him which I actually took inspiration from…so I really am sorry. I still hope you enjoy it

2.7K Followers Writing Event 2023

Just like many things, Leona grew to give up on this fated partner drivel. The world kept screwing him over, so it’s better to not bother with trying, right?

Until now…

The fateful orientation at NRC occured. Leona awoke from his nap as he sensed a new warm sensation in his chest, as though his entire being was burning with excitement.

Leona knew it, the moment he saw you. He didn’t have to ask or second guess this primal instinct. The spark burst in his chest as the beastman watched you stumble about in this new world, his world. The beastly side within him roared within, finally meeting his fated partner.

Leona was…angry. He truly wouldn’t be happy at first. Leona was fine not having the bond after so long, but he has to accept that he does now? Not once did Leona feel the pull of a bond or even a spark of such a feeling as described by those lucky b*stards. Was he supposed to forget all about his feelings of frustration when he as a beastman couldn’t feel this so-called bond that was so natural to others.

What frustrated Leona more was that you weren’t a beastman, you weren’t even a person of this world. You probably never had to go through the bitterness as he did, seeing his brother and so many others find their fated mate so easily while he couldn’t even comprehend what that could feel like.

He knew it wasn’t in your control, but he wasn’t going to be alright with this convenient bullsh*t of a happy ending.

The lion ignored you, he wanted nothing to do with you. He fought against his very instincts because he refused to have expectations anymore. So what if you were his fated mate? It’s too much of a bother to take care of a clueless herbivore.

But alas, Leona sometimes couldn’t stop himself as he gave into his natural connection with you. Despite meddling in his schemes, he felt no hate towards you, even when he tried to. When you needed a place to stay after being kicked out from Ramshackles, he surprised even himself to let you stay in his room.

Sometimes he growls at you, but then keeps you close like a protective guard. Leona feigned indifferent to your attempts to befriend him, but just as those annoying beastmen b*stards said, he felt drawn to you as though his world became weightless with your presence.

This complicated story finally reached its crescendo when you couldn’t handle this confusing hot-and-cold game, breaking down in front of him.

“Do you hate me, Leona?”

You found Leona in his usual napping spot in the greenhouse, because of course he would be there. Sometimes, he would grumble and tell you to leave him in peace. But on rare occasions, the beastman would roll to his side as the two of you enjoy each other’s company, sometimes in silence, other rarer times bantering.

But that was the problem.

“I don’t know what to do,” you steeled your voice with all your might but the cracks in your tone exposed the raw frustration you were feeling. “Sometimes you treat me so well and I feel really safe with you, but then other times I feel like you resent my very existence!”

You felt it too. Since you came into this strange world, you’ve seen and experienced things you once thought inconceivable. It took a while but you will through your new life and you were actually having fun in this loony situation. Except, whenever you saw Leona...

“Some days, all I could think about is you.” You confessed in tears, embarrassment be damned. “I want to be around you, like I feel this pull to be by your side. I feel so happy when I’m with you, but it tears me apart whenever you act like you can’t stand me.”

To be rejected by your soulmate is akin to getting a part of your heart being crushed, that connection between the two of you is tearing at the seams and along with it, a piece of yourself. You were going insane as a part deep inside you was begging to stay with the stubborn beastman, but was all this pain really worth it?

“What can I do?” Do you let him go, or fix whatever is wrong with this relationship? You didn’t care what you had to do, you just wanted this pain to finally leave you. “Tell me, Leona. Anything”

But Leona didn’t say a word. His piercing green eyes just watched you, showing no hint of his thoughts. The only betrayal of his unreadable expression was the way his eyebrows furrow as he saw your tear-stricken face and your body shaking from pained rage.

The beastman’s body was still, before he sighed as he lost his internal fight with his primal instincts. His arm reached out to you, pulling your shaking body towards him as he forced you to lay under the shady tree, pushing your head that - to his annoyance - fit so perfectly under his chin, resting atop his shoulder.

“I’ll explain later. For now, sleep. You’re a mess” you wanted to hit him, argue whose fault it was for all this. But your body felt compelled to curl into this insufferable man’s warmth. His scent irritatingly eased your frustrations as his arm warped around you almost protectively, almost like you were something precious to him.

“You’re awful, Leona” you let out a last stab at the senior before surrendering to sleep. Leona smirked sardonically, not the least bit angered by your weak attempt at an insult, even without being overwhelmed by the feeling the sensation of satisfaction having his fated beloved finally in his arms.

“I am, huh?”

[writeforfandoms]

Who Wants To Live Forever

Find my Ghost masterlist

It doesn't matter how many lives you've lived, you always find your way back to him.

The reincarnation au nobody asked for and my plot bunnies yeeted at me anyway! I have a lot of thoughts about this one that didn't make it into the fic. Like. A Lot.

Warnings: Swearing, past violence, blood, injury mention, canon typical violence, idiots in love, this is just for fun, I wrote this for me but you can read it too.

Simon "Ghost" Riley x f!reader

Word count: 2.9k

The dreams started when you were small. Your parents at first attributed them to an overactive imagination and too much television. 

But as you got older and the dreams didn't go away, you wondered. Your parents got squirrelly about them, started muttering about things like psychiatrists and not normal and worried. 

So you stopped mentioning them. Pretended you didn't dream at all most nights. 

Reality couldn't be farther from the truth. 

You dreamed. Every single night. In some you were part of a village, living a harsh life by the sea. The men would go off to hunt and raid, and the women stayed behind to mind the village and raise the children. Those dreams always left you cold. Even in those dreams, though, dream-you noticed the beauty, the way sunlight glinted off snow, the magical lights in the sky, the blue of the sky after a storm. 

Some nights you dreamed of being a nurse, tending wounded soldiers in tents and buildings. Those dreams were always full of screaming and crying and horrors. Men wheezing, coughing up blood. Limbs shattered and mangled beyond repair. A stench like you couldn't describe. But there were little moments, moments of kindness. Holding a man's hand to comfort him through his last breaths. The way the sunrise broke through some of the haze of pain surrounding those places. The way a doctor or fellow nurse would sometimes thank you, buy you a drink, share scant meals with you. 

Sometimes you were a school teacher in a rural village, gently scolding children and keeping watch as they frollicked at break times. Those dreams were full of small joys. A flower one of your students brought you, bashful smile blooming into a grin at your thanks. Sunsets from the comfort of home. Warm meals at the table, often shared. With him.

He was a constant presence. Through all of your dreams, all of those times, he was always to be found. He didn't always look the same - skin tone changed, hair color changed. But you always knew him by those brown eyes. 

Sometimes the two of you married. Sometimes he was married before you met him. Sometimes you were married first. But you always, always found each other. In every time. In every life. 

By the time you were out of school, you had notebooks dedicated to your dreams, to the times, to the man. You kept them hidden away, for your eyes only. Just as a way to help you keep everything straight. 

As more time passed, you became more and more sure that these were glimpses into the past. Your past. Past lives, you'd guess. From the way the dreams felt… it always felt like you. No matter how many times you put pen to paper, you could never accurately describe why. 

But you knew. They were all you.

And they were all him. 

Which made you wonder… when would you find him in this life? You'd found him in almost all of the others. It seemed reasonable that you'd find him again. 

(Nevermind that you had no name, no description, no way of knowing what he'd look like or where he'd be.) 

Knowing that he was out there somewhere made it easy to bury yourself in work. Oh, sure, you had friends. People who knew you. You were well-liked at work, known to get things done. 

But you didn't date. You didn't look for people who weren't him. 

Everyone else, you knew, would pale in comparison. 

All the lives accumulated in your head did make it hard to relate. It was easier, sometimes, to sort of… float through life. You knew what was expected of you. You'd known people from every walk of life, just about. You knew a lot about people, could do well in social situations without working at it. 

But it did make for a rather lonely life. 

You started dreaming of him more often. Of the times the two of you lived together. Of the long talks the two of you had. Of the walks, along the sea, along a grass-lined lane, along a lake. Of the times he was just out of reach, your eyes meeting again and again through crowds and dinners and company. 

Of the time he died in your arms, blood staining the both of you. 

You were tired when you got on the train. This was just a little holiday to a new place. 

Or. Well. You hadn't been here in this lifetime, at least. 

It was busier than you remembered the area being, more built up. Your lips twitched - that's what happened over time, after all. 

Nothing stayed the same for long. 

You didn't pay any mind to the people around you as you walked, taking your time. You didn't mind walking to your hotel from the train station. Gave you a better chance to look around and plan where you wanted to go later. 

Your eyes met brown through a coffee shop window.

You froze. You knew those eyes. You knew those eyes. 

He blinked, just once. You couldn't look away. 

The noise of the coffee shop finally registered when you stopped in front of his table, the chinking of mugs and flatware, the hiss of the machines, the babble of unimportant voices. 

“Hi.” You were a little surprised at your own voice, quiet and a little awed. 

He eyed you, black face mask obscuring most of his expression. For a moment your heart plummeted. Maybe he didn't recognize you? Maybe… he didn't remember? 

Then his lips twitched. 

“Took you long enough.” 

“Took me long enough?” You tried for outrage but probably fell short, humor and elation buoying your heart. “And what about you, hmm?” 

“Been busy.” He nodded to the seat across from him, and you could just see the corners of his eyes crinkle with his smile. 

“Oh, busy. Yes, how silly of me to not think of that.” You dropped into the seat, your bag landing at your feet a little harder than was probably advisable. 

“Holiday?” His gaze dropped briefly to the table, to where your bag was now hidden. 

“Yes.” Some of your elation faded at the dose of reality. “You?”

He paused, holding your gaze. “On leave.” 

“Ah.” You smiled a little, sliding one open hand across the table. “Going well this time, then?”

He didn't say anything for a long moment, staring down at your open hand. His fingers twitched. “Not particularly.” 

Your heart plummeted. “Oh.” 

“S'fine.” He shook his head once, short and sharp. “You want anything? Tea, coffee?” 

“Coffee is fine.” You started to stand but he waved you back into your seat. 

“Wait here.” 

You huffed out a breath and watched him go, broad shoulders easy to track up to the register. You finally had the attention to note other details about him. He was dressed casually, all in black, with his hood pulled up. You'd caught blonde hair under his hood. 

Taller than you could remember him being. Broad shoulders. 

It was just… so good to see him again. To see him now. With your own eyes, in this life. 

It would be nice to make more memories, for next time. 

The clink of a mug being set in front of you brought you out of your own head. You blinked at the mug and then at him as he sat across from you again. 

“How long are you here?” He folded his hands in front of him, gaze fixed on you. 

You shrugged. “I had only planned for a few days,” you admitted. “But I can make it longer.” 

He grunted once, thumb tapping against the side of his hand as he considered something. Then he nodded once. “Meet me here tomorrow,” he said, abruptly moving to grab a pen and a napkin. “1200.” 

You blinked once. “Tomorrow?” You couldn't quite keep the disappointment from your voice at that. 

“Got some things to take care of before then,” he said, barely glancing up at you as he finished writing on the napkin. “Got some people for you to meet, too. If you want to know me better this time ‘round.”

You swallowed against the lump in your throat. He'd married already. That was the only thing you could think of. He was already married and you were too late. “I see.”

“No. You don't.” He pushed the napkin to you, tapping it twice with one large finger. “Here. Tomorrow.”

“1200,” you repeated dutifully, mustering up a wan smile. “Yes. I remember.”

“Good.” He pushed back to his feet abruptly, and you startled a little. He was just so tall! “If you don't show, I'll assume you don't want to meet again.” The words were flat, even, but his eyes… his eyes hid pain. 

You nodded, too startled for words by all of this. In a moment he was gone, striding out of the coffee shop and away from you.

Every fiber of you longed to go after him, to beg him for answers. 

Instead, you sat and sipped your coffee with trembling hands, staring at the napkin until the blocky letters were burned into your memory. 

The walk to your hotel was a bit of a blur. You barely paid attention to the social interaction, though you must have done well enough. 

You ended up sitting on the bed, bag on the floor, staring at your hands. 

He'd been so close. So close. 

But he hadn't taken your offer. He hadn't touched you. 

You thought you might finally be going a little insane. Was this what insanity felt like? Was this some kind of fever dream? Had you finally lost all sense of reality?

But no. You had the napkin in your pocket still. You'd seen him. You hadn't learned his name this time around, hadn't learned much of anything really, except that he had people he wanted you to meet. 

People. He'd said people for you to meet. 

The words finally sank fully into your brain, and you weren't sure whether to laugh or scream. People. People to meet. As in more than one person.

As in he was not only married but had a family…

…or something else entirely. Something new. 

Even after so many lives, the world still had a way of surprising you. A lesson hard learned over time. 

You forced yourself to breathe through the weight of history on your shoulders, staring back at all the lives where things had gone wrong. 

And then you forced yourself to find some dinner, shower, and read for a while before bed. 

Not that you slept very well. Not with anticipation and dread wreaking havoc on your heart. 

You arrived at the meeting spot ten minutes early, a little cafe on a square with a fountain in the middle. You stood outside, hands in your pockets, unsure what to expect. 

“You’re early.”

You swallowed once, heart thudding hard against your ribs as you turned to look at him. “Didn’t want to be late,” you quipped, only to falter. 

He wasn’t alone today.

Three other men stood with him, all of them looking at you. You lifted your chin a little, meeting the gaze of the closest man. You had just enough time to note how blue his eyes were before the memories slammed into you. 

A quiet life working the land, out beyond the edge of the “civilized” world, a husband with a rare but kind smile, eyes so blue you could drown in them. Rare trips to the nearest town gave you glimpses of your brown-eyed man, but no more than that. Cold winters and muddy springs and indomitable shoulders to lean on through it all. 

And a slightly less quiet life of some wealth, with a husband whose work often took him from home. But you’d had friends that time, your own societal duties. Dances. Events. Hosting. That life had not been devoid of its fun and beauty. 

“Oh.” You blinked at him, eyes wide. 

His lips twitched under his facial hair (muttonchops - unusual choice for this day and age) and he held out a hand to you. “Captain John Price.”

You gave him your name and shook his hand, holding his gaze for a moment longer. If he was like the him you’d known, he was a good man. Time would tell if and how he had changed. “I married you before.”

He grinned for a moment, so close to the man you’d known that your heart ached. “Twice, but don’t hold it against me,” he joked before he stepped aside. 

The next man to step up also had blue eyes and a big smile. You knew him immediately - you’d seen him before, too. A few times in the shadow of your brown-eyed love, once or twice on his own. The last time you’d seen him, he’d been standing over the bed of one of his men, half-covered in blood and muck. 

There had been nothing you could do, then. 

Now you smiled. “Good to see you again.” 

“Ye look better this time.” He chucked you gently under the chin with two knuckles, grinning. “John MacTavish, call me Soap.” 

“Soap?” You raised one extremely unimpressed eyebrow. 

He laughed. “A story for another time,” he promised, winking at you before he stepped back. 

The last man looked at you, nerves in the pinch of his mouth and the corners of his eyes. Darker skin and a ballcap met your quick perusal. 

You only had to meet his gaze for a moment before you threw yourself at him, hugging him as hard as you could, breath stuttering in your chest. 

“Hey, hey,” he cooed, arms immediately settling around you, one hand cupping the back of your head. “It’s alright, we’re fine.”

“You left,” you grumbled, hands fisting in the back of his shirt. “You’re not allowed to do that to me again.”

“Promise,” he muttered, voice low, just between the two of you. “I won’t.”

You sniffled, just once, before you pulled back to look at him. “I missed you,” you admitted before gently whapping his arm. “And if you disappear on me again I’ll hunt you down next life.”

“Yes ma’am.” He grinned, not even a little abashed. 

“So, what ridiculous nickname have you gotten this time?” You smiled, finally taking a half-step back. 

“It’s not ridiculous,” he scoffed. “Gaz. Kyle, this time ‘round.”

“Gaz.” You tested it out slowly before shrugging. “Not the worst.”

“Oh? And what would be?” Soap snuck up next to you, looking eager for mischief. 

“Story for another time,” you shot back at him with a smile. You finally turned your gaze to him again, to your brown-eyed man. The only one who hadn’t given you his name yet.

“Simon,” he finally said, as if he’d read your mind. 

“Simon.” You smiled. “How did you…?” You made a helpless motion between the three men. 

“Price,” Simon answered with a little shrug. “Found all of us.” 

“Came across ‘em,” Price said, arms crossed over his chest. “Knew I had to keep ‘em close.” 

You nodded, a little ache in your heart. “It’s a good thing you did.” But your gaze didn’t stray from Simon, too busy basking in the sight of him, here and whole in front of you.

“He’s no’ married yet,” Soap said in a stage whisper. When you glanced at him, he was grinning. “Unattached. Available. Free to a good home.”

“MacTavish,” Simon growled, brows twitching in annoyance. 

But you? You grinned. “Well, that’s good, because it’s your turn this time,” you teased, chin tipping up and to one side. 

Simon’s gaze snapped back to you, eyes a little wide. “What?” 

“I asked you last time,” you said patiently, trying hard to not grin. “Almost kissed you in front of your fiance, too.” 

“Almost,” he agreed, eyes warm as his gaze swept the length of your body. 

“I spotted you yesterday, too,” you pointed out, completely reasonably and not at all like a little gremlin. (You liked that word a lot and had incorporated it as much as you could once you’d caught airmen using it during World War II.) 

“So, ‘s my turn?” He took one step closer to you.

“Mmhm.” You bit the inside of your lip hard to keep your grin to yourself. 

His eyes narrowed at you, which was the only warning you had before he pulled down his face mask and kissed you. Vaguely, you heard Soap cheering and Price grumbling. But everything fell to the back of your mind.

Everything that wasn’t Simon. 

A little piece of your heart clicked into place. 

When he finally pulled back, both of you were a little out of breath, holding each other tight. His lips twitched in a tiny smile and you all but beamed in response. 

And then yipped when someone yanked you away from Simon.

“Best friend dibs,” Kyle announced, already starting to walk you away. “Mine for now, I’ll give her back in a day or two.”

You cackled at the look on Simon’s face, like he was torn between murder and laughing along with the joke. 

“There’s no rush,” you couldn’t help but tease. “We’ve got this entire life, now.” 

Simon met your gaze again even as his long strides caught him up with you and Kyle. His mask was back in place now but his eyes were warm, smiling at you, even as his hand twined with yours. 

Finally. 

[yandere-writer-momo]

Yandere Baki Head Canons:

All Yours

Yandere Katsumi Orochi x Fem Reader

Alternate Reality AU

When (your name) had wished for Katsumi to return her feelings, she hadn’t meant to this extent. The man never left her alone for more than an hour. Her phone constantly rang with calls or messages when the Karateka would get a smidge of free time.

How was she to know that woman was genuinely a witch? A witch who transferred her to an alternate reality where Katsumi adored her? One where he was obsessed?

It was her fault for seeking that woman out for a charm to make her crush like her, but she didn’t think she’d be transported to another world when she rescued Katsumi from the flaming dojo all those months ago… did she die in her old world? Was this some kind of screwed up Isekai misadventure? The thought alone made her head hurt… just like this current call with the Katsumi of this reality.

“(Your name)? How about I bring you some takeout once I’m done with my class? I miss your face!” Katsumi rambled on the other end of the phone as you gave a stiff smile. You were head over heels at first about the attention you received from him, but it became old quickly. Even though this man was Katsumi, he wasn’t the Katsumi you adored. Nope! This version of him was like a ripoff version of him in a bad fan fiction.

“That’d be lovely. Thank you, Katsumi.” (Your name) knew he probably clicked his heels together on the other end of the phone when she said that. The man was so eager to please…

“Okay! I’ll get your favorite then, darling!” Katsumi continued to chatter. “I’m so happy you finally accepted my affection… I’ve been after you for years.”

Yes… in this reality, it was Katsumi who pursued rather than her. Was this how the Katsumi felt in her world when she’d show him affection? Overwhelmed and exhausted? God she felt like an even worse person…

“I appreciate you, Katsumi.” (Your name) replied in a soft voice. “Be safe today.”

“I will! I can’t wait to see you.” (Your name) closed her eyes and hung up. The young woman placed her face in her hands and softly cried.

This was her reality now and she needed to accept it. She needed to accept that she’d never go back to her old world and she’d never be able to apologize to the Katsumi there.

“I’m sorry, Katsumi… I’m so sorry.” (Your name) cried softly into her hands.

A few hours later and Katsumi was on her doorstep with a bag of takeout. A huge smile on his face when she opened the door. “(Your name)! I bought the goods, hopefully this will cheer you up. I noticed you’ve been a bit down lately…”

(Your name) gave Katsumi a soft smile to try to reassure him. “You’re always so thoughtful.” Why couldn’t her old Katsumi be a bit like him?

Katsumi’s face flushed as he bashfully kicked his feet from side to side. “Well, I try to have your best interests in mind. I just want you to be happy.”

And that’s when (your name) broke down in tears, the Karateka quickly pulled her into his arms. “Hey, I didn’t mean to upset you-“

(Your name) leaned forward and pressed her lips against his in a gentle kiss. A kiss that made her whole body shake while desperation consumed her. She felt like such an awful person for the way she exploited this man, but he always said the right words… he was everything she ever wanted. Was it wrong to indulge him?

Katsumi’s eyes blew wide open for a second before he jumped right into the kiss. His hands grabbed at whatever flesh he could reach as he maneuvered the two of them into her apartment. His foot shut the door behind him.

“Your lips are so soft and you smell heavenly.” Katsumi whispered against her lips, his forehead now pressed against hers. “Can we… can we continue in your room?”

(Your name) thought for a minute before she gave him a teary eyes smile. “Yes… I’d like that.”

And as their clothes were discarded with each step they took towards her room, she couldn’t help but smile.

If this was her fate, she’d embrace it. All she had ever wanted was to be loved, even if it was by this obsessive man. This obsessive man with the face of her first love.

“I don’t have protection… is that okay?” Katsumi asked with a blush, the man’s eyes anxiously scanned over your bare form.

“That’s okay.” You held your arms out for him. “I’m yours, Katsumi.”