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#If there wasn't someone else in the same room as me I would be in tears I'm not even joking
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A Rite Of Passage: Final Part
Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader
Word Count: ~2k
Summary: A case brings you to a small town in Texas that is close to Mexico's border. Someone is killing people who illegally cross the border, and he's a lot closer than you think.
Warnings: canon violence, canon language, canon talk of death, methods of kill
Season Five Masterlist
Author’s Note: I do not own anything from Criminal Minds. All credit goes to their respective owners. If there are any warnings that exceed the normal death/kills from the show, I will list them.
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"Where are all the deputies?" JJ asks.
"Maybe they found another head."
"No, the sheriff would have contacted us. Have you heard from her this morning?" Hotch asks JJ.
"No, sir, I wasn't expecting to, though."
"JJ, come with me." Hotch and JJ walk into the station and you follow them to see what's going on. The receptionist is on the radio talking to someone when you enter. "What's going on?"
"It's the sheriff. She's missing. She never came in this morning. Her cruiser's missing, too. The whole department's looking for her."
"Did she say anything to you? Was she working on something?" Hotch asks.
"She was gone before we left here last night."
"Gone where?"
"I thought she went home."
"I called her last night but she didn't answer. I wanted to question one of her deputies," you say.
"Have Garcia trace her cell phone and see if she had any incoming calls last night."
The CB radio the receptionist is using crackles to life and Deputy Boyd's voice comes over the radio knowing you're listening in.
"This is Boyd. Oh, God. I found her. God, she's all... Just get me some help. Hurry."
Dread creeps down your spine at his words. You have a feeling he killed her to shut her up. Your team heads over to the place where the Sheriff is. Her other deputies are already on the scene having heard Boyd on the CB radio.
"Deputy. Is that the sheriff?" Hotch asks.
"Yeah, that's her."
You walk over to her with Rossi and Hotch only to see her dismembered. Her hand is missing, her eyes are gone, and her tongue has been cut out. Everything that Omar said he'd do to send a message. No, this is all wrong. Omar didn't do this. Boyd did. His energy is everywhere and Omar's is nowhere to be found.
"This isn't the same. This is angry. It's a completely different MO."
"It's a new victimology," Rossi says. "He goes from impossible to identify illegal immigrants to a law enforcement officer?"
"We're profiling a guy who picks on the weakest in a crowd. I didn't know her that well, but weak doesn't seem to fit the sheriff."
"It's not random," Hotch says. "It's what Omar Morales said he would do to a body to send a message."
"It's not Omar," you say to Hotch. "It's Boyd. He killed her. His energy is everywhere. I don't see Omar's at all. God, I should have questioned Boyd before he went home."
"It's not your fault, but we were in the interrogation room without Boyd. He didn't hear any of what he said."
"I'm just telling you what I see."
You walk back to the police cars where everyone else is.
"Is it her?" Spencer asks.
"What's left of her. Is there anything in her car?"
"Nothing that would indicate where she was headed last night. There are no notebooks and no logs."
"Her body is mutilated in exactly the way that Omar Morales, the drug trafficker, said he would mutilate a body. Y/N thinks is Deputy Boyd. His energy is all over the place, but only Ruiz and I heard Omar say that."
"Wait, Boyd and I heard it, too. We were outside watching by the window," JJ says.
"Deputy Gannon, where's Deputy Boyd?" Hotch asks.
"He and Gentry went to pick Omar up."
You can't be too upset over them not listening to you. You're in a constant state of having to prove yourself to them. You rely on spiritual facts, not physical. They were taught to rely on physical so it's going to take a lot of time and effort on your part to make them see what you see. One deputy stays behind to assist the crime scene investigators while the rest head over to the garage where Omar lives and works. Emily calls Gentry to warn him of Boyd but she doesn't get very far because he abruptly hangs up on her. There is a dead man right outside who has not only his energy but Boyd's surrounding him.
"Reid, JJ, you two stay out here and be alert," Hotch says.
The rest of you head inside the garage with guns in hand. There is another dead body by the entrance of the place and two more when you go further in. One of them is Gentry while the other is Omar. He is lying on his stomach with shotgun holes in his back and a pistol in his hand. Gentry is lying on his back with pistol wounds in his chest and a pistol on the ground near him.
"Does this look legit to you?" Derek asks.
"Omar took shotgun hits. Gentry only has a pistol, and there's no powder residue on Omar's hands, either."
Emily finds Gentry's phone on the ground smashed to pieces.
"Oh, my God. What if he heard me?"
"Gannon, where would Boyd go?"
"I don't know."
"This is no time to be covering up. He killed your boss and Gentry."
"I'm not covering. I don't know the guy that well. No one does. He's a loner."
Everyone heads back to the car where JJ and Spencer are while you take out your phone and call Penelope.
"Pen, Deputy Boyd is our unsub. He has a police radio. Can you track it?"
"Yeah, what's his unit number?"
"Call the sheriff's station. Get the serial numbers from the dispatcher."
"Okay, give me a second."
"We profiled him as a hunter," Emily says.
"Now, he's the hunted. He'll go someplace he feels safe. Someplace he knows he can control."
"Home?" Rossi asks.
"No, I think it's a preplanned location."
"I've got him. He's heading northbound," Penelope says over the phone. "He's is not on a road at all. He's driving through the desert."
"Keep tracking him, Garcia."
"He lives in a trailer out west of town," Gannon says.
"Where is he running to if not home? Deputy, you take Morgan, Prentiss, and Reid to his house and see what you can find. I need your radio."
Gannon hands his radio over to Hotch.
"What are you going to do?" Derek asks.
"Keep him busy." The group of four leaves in one car. Hotch presses the button on the side of the radio and speaks into it. "Deputy Boyd, this is Agent Hotchner with the FBI. I know you can hear me. You have no place to go."
"This is my desert. Do you think you can find me out here? I'd invite you to try," he responds.
"Cocky little bastard," Rossi growls.
"The trouble is he's right. We don't know anything about this desert."
"I hope they can find something at his house," JJ sighs.
"Boyd, this doesn't have to end any worse than it already is," Hotch says.
"Is that right?"
"Turn yourself in. I'll tell the judge you cooperated."
"This is Texas, Agent. Do you think the judge gives a damn whether or not someone cooperated when he's handing out the death penalty? Now, don't get me wrong. I wouldn't have it any other way. That's the only way to deal with someone like me."
"Do you think he's suicidal?"
"That or he's bluffing," Rossi shrugs.
"What's north of here?"
JJ takes out a map and lays it over the hood of the car.
"A whole lot of nothing."
"He's not panicking. There's something out there and he's headed for it."
Boyd's house is where he decapitated all of his victims because his entire trailer is filled with blood and guts from his victims. The only thing they found that is of importance is a newspaper clipping from the Golden Harvest factory that makes grain and seed. The clipping is about a death that happened to foreman Fred Boyd, Deputy Boyd's father. The Golden Harvest factory, when you look it up, has a big sun painted on the side of it. The same sun that that young boy thought he saw when he crossed the border.
You, Rossi, and Hotch head out to the factory while Derek and Emily leave Boyd's house to join you. You are holding the MP-5 in the backseat checking to make sure everything is in working order.
"Try not to shoot that inside the car," Hotch says.
"Who do you think I am? You just don't want me to deafen you."
"Exactly."
"There's his vehicle," Rossi says when Hotch pulls up to the abandoned factory.
Hotch parks and all three of you get out. The sun is beating down on you but you ignore the beads of sweat sliding down your face. The hairs on the back of your neck stand and a chill runs down your spine and it isn't because of the heat. Something isn't right. You can feel Boyd's angry eyes on you.
"You take the side door. We'll take the front. Watch the windows up top," Hotch orders.
Right before you three can split up, you look at the open barn doors in the front. You hear the rev of the engine before you see the quad. You hear the bullet flying before you see it.
"Get down!" you shout.
You practically tackle Hotch and Rossi to the ground just as Boyd comes racing out on the quad with a big gun. You three are hiding behind a big tractor and wooden crates but if Boyd comes to the front then he will have a clear shot of you three. The sound of a car coming reaches your ears and you look to the right to see Derek and Emily racing toward the factory. Boyd decides to take them head-on and flies over to them while shooting. Derek takes the MP-5 and starts shooting from inside the car.
It's safe to say that Boyd doesn't get very far.
"Are you two okay?" you ask.
"Yeah. We're good," Rossi nods.
You three get up and head over to the car. Derek gets out and keeps his gun trained on Boyd even though he isn't moving. Emily stumbles out of the car with her hand on her right ear.
"Are you okay?" Derek asks.
"Yeah, we're good."
"No! Are you out of your mind? You blew out my eardrum," Emily shouts.
"What did you want me to do? He was coming right at us."
"I told you I had him!"
"He was shooting at us, Emily."
"Well, you could have given me a heads-up," she glares.
"The loaded MP-5 and the lunatic shooting at us wasn't enough? Come on."
Local police go to the factory to take care of Boyd's body, and everyone heads out to Boyd's place where he buried all of his victims. He sent the heads out as a message but he needed to bury the bodies someplace where they wouldn't be found. With your help, you found each and every grave he ever dug.
"The state's sending out a crime scene team," Hotch says after he got off the phone.
"It's going to be hard to identify the bodies without missing persons reports."
"I called that advocate, Richard Corral, and he's contacting families with missing relatives. He's gonna try and get some DNA," Emily informs.
"This is a mess," Derek sighs.
"It would have been a bigger mess without Sheriff Ruiz, and it would still be happening."
"Did she have any family?" you ask.
"I already have Garcia checking into it," JJ says.
"I'm going to call Brooklyn homicide and talk to some of the guys I know there. They'll honor her shield." She left New York to come here so there is a whole family of officers who she left behind that will honor her memory. "Let's go home."
Everyone is resting on the plane but you and Hotch. You're by the small coffee machine making a drink when he approaches you.
"Didn't want to get any sleep with the rest of them?"
"No, I guess not. How are you doing? I've noticed you're doing a lot better."
"I'm feeling a lot better," you smile.
"I see therapy was a good thing for you?"
"Yeah, I wasn't too keen on it in the beginning but she's really helped me. She really knows her stuff. Thank you for making me go."
"You're welcome."
"How are you and Jack doing?"
Hotch sighs and leans against the bathroom door.
"It's hard but we're working through it."
"If you ever need me and Spencer to watch Jack, we're more than happy to do that. Give yourself a break."
"Thank you," Hotch smiles. "It'd be nice to come home to a quiet house every once in a while."
You smile and leave his side to rejoin Spencer's. As soon as you sit down next to him, he shifts and places his head on your shoulder. You lean your head on his and pull out a book to read.
"Many persons have the wrong idea of what constitutes true happiness. ... It is not attained through self-gratification but through fidelity to a worthy purpose." - Helen Keller.
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peopleinlovestink · 2 years
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Their past selves singing to their current self. I 😭😭😭😭
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inkskinned · 1 year
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no, actually, where is the whimsy?
my ex had a best friend named larry who asked me once: what do you think comes after irony?
we were at the bar where larry worked. it was a quiet night, and he'd hopped over to sit with us on the patron side. i swirled the lemon around my limoncello martini.
earnest positivity, i said, while my ex said, art self-destructs.
i stared at my ex. he stared at me.
his argument was the cinemasins argument: look how bad media is becoming! look at the loopholes and the dumb shit!
it was roughly 2011. galaxy print was still in. at the time, i had a favorite shirt that was a wolf howling at the moon. it got ripped in half in the wash and i honestly still mourn it. i dressed like effie stonem, because everyone did. and irony was the name of the thing. men liked MLP "ironically." the internet liked the kind of crass, "anti-mainstream" vibes of things like fuck romance, touch my butt and buy me pizza. we put cats in sunglasses everywhere, which was because we only liked things in irony.
and media had the same vibe in it: anti-hero white men would be "hard to love" and then storm off the scene. nobody was just earnestly trying to save the world: they were jaded, angry, unoriginal. mad you even asked them to try to help.
my ex ends up not being wrong. cinemasins becomes super popular. a lot of people start viewing media with this lens that is the cruelest, most jaded depiction. it's wrong for your character to have unexplained powers, even if the entire movie is about how strange it is she has unexplained powers - that is still considered a "loophole." characters make thoughtless, panicked choices? loophole. characters are actually kind people, despite hardship? loophole. features a woman doing literally anything without assistance? loophole. movies become hyper-aware of scrutiny, and now irony rules the media.
which means you go to a movie, and the character has to turn to the screen and say "beats me!!" or one of the side characters has to have some kind of quip like "are you seriously telling me that you think this is normal?" because nothing can happen in earnest. like a sitcom laugh track, we now anticipate the fourth-wall break: the moment that the media acknowledges it is telling a story. the media has to apologize for itself, or else someone like my ex rolls their eyes.
but here's the thing: i wasn't wrong either.
the difference might be that i am (and always have been) so soft-hearted that any crack in the light of this world will spear me into the ground. and i was the poet in the relationship. (he thought that was the same thing as being naïve and stupid). i was making things daily. i knew how all of us artists are driven by some strange desire to evolve. he notably liked to critique art, not to create it.
so yes, i've made things that are bitter and angry and even ironic. i've made long, sharp poems with all capital letters, and i've made poems about how the silence stretches out like a song. someone wrote once that we will spend our whole lives just circling the place we grew up. i think it's more that we spend our whole lives trying to remake a home. i think it's that as we age, it becomes less exciting to build the castle on the beach - we become aware of erosion, of windforce. we realize what we really want is to come home to our dog, castle or not.
and while art in the foreground is mired in white male violence and irony, and aggression, and not taking anything seriously - i don't think that's true of all art. i think more and more artists are leaning in to the things we love. the world has changed so much. they have taken so many things from us. the only thing we have left is love. at the bottom of the moving box - all we get is the faint sense that we have to appreciate what little we've got. i can't enjoy this stuff ironically anymore: what room do i have for irony? if it makes me happy, that is an amazing thing. there are so few happy places left for me. i want to be happy because of how leaves shiver beside each other like nestling birds. i want to be happy because of the color pink, and how magenta doesn't exist. i have spent so much of this life suffering, i have earned my right to a gentle ending. if nothing matters, i get to assign meaning to the nothing. i get to create meaning. i am an artist first and foremost, which means creation is my thing.
where is the whimsy? wherever i fucking put it. because if this is my last fucking chance to do any good in this world - i want to do it earnestly. i want to write things that make you happy. that make people feel heard and seen. what comes after irony has to be positivity.
it was close to my 21st birthday. in 7 years, i would end up writing a book about this relationship, which is hopefully coming out somewhere around May 2024. i come back to this bar scene in my memories a lot. i keep thinking of how pale my ex was. the look that crossed his face. how i looked back at him. how for a moment, both of us couldn't recognize the other person. like the gulf between us was a suddenly wide and cavernous thing. like we were alien to each other. he never took my opinion seriously, and he always seemed surprised whenever his manic-pixie-dream-girl ever broke free of the plot. like in the whole time we were together, i wasn't human enough.
this knowledge: where he said nothing comes after, my only instinct was what comes after is love.
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sweetnans · 2 months
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"You are pretty annoying"
"Did you just call me pretty?"
You are delusional if you think that your boyfriend Bakugo would ever hold his thoughts about you, even if they're bad.
You've been in this weird relationship for years where you yap his ear off, and he teases in return. Your friends find it amusing, actually.
Your relationship with him didn't begin in the best terms. In fact, he found you annoying and overly friendly for his liking.
You always found a way to enter in people's lives without being nosy, it wasn't the typical psychology complex when people try so hard to be involve in everyone's lives just because they need to find a solution to help themselves feel good. You genuinely cared about others, and these others found you easy to talk to.
Among other people, you were one of the most popular girls in UA. With your big smile and obnoxious laugh, Bakugo thought you were fake. Always laughing at shitty hair bad jokes, and cluelessly chatting with that monoma prick like he wasn't messing with you to rile you up (which apparently never worked)
One day, he saw you from afar and pretended to walk the other way to not run to your face.
"Hey, Bakugo!" You exclaimed running after him.
He cursed lowly, and his shoulders tensed a little bit.
"Hey"
He didn't want to talk to anyone. It wasn't personal this time.
"What's with that face? You look like Deku said something"
Your statement felt like you left your words hanging, like you were missing some important complement.
Something like...what?
"Huh? What do you mean?" He squinted his eyes at you, finally stopping in his tracks.
"I dunno," you shrugged, losing your characteristics smile. "You always put that face when Deku opens his mouth. It doesn't matter what he says. You always end up like that"
Deku, in fact, said something, but that wasn't the point. The main point was you reading him so well to the end that he'd never said anything to you, but you still knew what happened to him.
That day, he started paying attention to you, too, and he changed his mind about you being fake.
After months of getting to know each other, you two formed something very unique and cliché at the same time. The famous grumpy x sunshine thrope characterized by the angry pomeranian and the chatty girl that everyone liked. The unique part was Bakugo actually getting involved with someone else.
In the present, he still resents, but admires, the way you always develop in big groups, how every room seems to light up the moment you walk in, and of course, how you read him to perfection.
You two have been laying on his bed for the entire noon, and you've been trying for half an hour to make him talk about his friendship with Deku, now that he openly accepted that he is his friend, You've been pushing the man to tell you how he really feels about apologizing and getting him back after chasing him when Deku thought that it was for the best move away.
"For fucks sake, can you stop?" He tells you grabbing your hips and tickling the skin under your shirt.
"I'm just trying to coaxe you to tell me what you really feel. You know it's not healthy for your mind and body to keep your emotions bottled. You are a person, not a ticking bomb waiting to explode. " You try carresing his neck with your fingerpads.
He looks at you from his side of his bed, and his brows get knitted while his nose scrunch a little.
"What?" You ask at his demeanor.
"You are pretty annoying," he says with a gruff voice, moving one of his hands from your hip to the back of your head, entangling his fingers with your hair.
Your smile widens.
"Did you just call me pretty?"
Now you are showing your full smile, teeth, dimples, and all, the whole package. He can't help it. The butterflies erupt in the pit of his stomach, and the tip of his ears turns in a pink hue.
"Dumbass," he said, rolling his eyes and flicking your forehead.
God, getting to know you was the best that ever happened to him.
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rin-may-1103 · 2 months
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Just a Bite.
Master Post | Next
Danny stared out at the busy street from behind his dumpster.
or well, not his dumpster, but it might as well be his considering how many nights he's spent sitting behind it like some rabid raccoon.
Two months ago, he would have been sleeping in his own bed. His glow-in-the-dark stars vaguely lighting up his room in soft luminescent colors. The sound of Jazz snoring in her sleep just a room over, his parents still milling around in the basement.
he would have just finished fighting the box ghost and collapsed onto his bed, the sound of his home lulling him to sleep.
Oh, how things can change in a blink of an eye.
No, instead of sleeping on his bed with his cartoon ghost sheets and NASA poster covered room, he's out here in some random dirty city, sleeping behind dumpsters.
dirty, grimy, rusty dumpsters.
"did you hear?" some lady dressed in a light blue summer dress asked, turning to look at her friend as they started to walk past. "Mr. Wayne donated another lump sum to that charity." she huffed, shaking her head like she had just said the most ridiculous thing she'd ever heard.
her friend stopped in the middle of the alley opening, her graying hair splaying in an ark as she twisted to face the other women. "my word! again? what the hell is that man thinking?"
the woman huffed, then smirked in amusement. "it's like he's shouting for the world to hear how desperate he is for attention. he thinks if he donates enough money to those scoudrails they'll love him or something. With how he's acting lately, it's like he wants all the street rats to barge into his home asking for money, food, and clothes."
her friend clicked her tongue in disgust, "I'd believe it. he has so many kids now, it's like he's running an orphanage. someone, anyone really, with black hair and some tragic story could walk right in and not even be noticed. they'd blend right in with the others."
"I heard it's genetic, his father was the same way before he met Martha. Bruce's blood son, Damian I believe, acts just like his father. the boy's been spotted taking stray cats and dogs inside. It wouldn't surprise me if the paper posted about him convincing his father for another sibling at some point."
the women then turned and started to walk away, their conversation slowly bleeding into the surrounding city ruckus.
Danny leaned back, resting his head against the crumbling brick behind him.
walk right in and not be noticed? wouldn't that be grand. He had heard of Mr. wayne and his gaggle of black-haired children. What were their names again? he could have sworn Sam told him before, in one of her rants about rich society.
Richard Grayson was the first, Danny remembered because Tucker had been making none stop dick jokes for a few hours. Danny didn't understand why the man would willingly go by Dick, but then again, who was he to question someone's name when he fights ghosts like Skulker and Technis on a daily basis?
Next was... Jason? Sam had mentioned there was a whole conspiracy theory of how his death was a cover-up. how all the unsolved crime community swore it was Bruce who killed the kid, that or the kid had some terminal illness that Bruce didn't want the media to know about.
thennnnnn-
Danny glanced around, trying to dig through his memories of Sam's rant. Dick: the orphaned circus act taken in the night his parents died. he's romanie? maybe, Danny wasn't too sure on that one. Jason: taken off the streets, one of his parents was out of the picture and the other one died of a drug overdose.
and then there was..... Tim! Right, Tim, the one who was Mr. Wayne's neighbor before his mother died and his dad went into a coma, then died later on. right, right. he was the known tech genius, the one who took over the company while Mr. Wayne stepped back for a while.
there were others? like, four others? Damian, the lady said he was the blood son sooo, that would imply he was the only bio kid.
who else was there? hmmmm.
well, either way, Danny's tired brain agreed with the women. someone, anyone, who looked vaguely like the other kids could walk right into the house and no one would notice.
it was a bad idea. a terrible one really. but. Danny was hungry.
he's been sleeping behind dumpsters for a few weeks now, he hadn't had anything good to eat in forever, and he was tired. (not as exhausted as he was back home, but still tired. who would have guessed he'd sleep more while homeless?)
he wasn't going to steal from people, his core wouldn't allow him to. and well, he's pretty sure Dan would have stolen already, so there was no way Danny was going to. not unless his life was at risk, and well? it wasn't right now, so no stealing.
but this? walking right into a house and blatantly taking food? right in front of them?
it wouldn't be stealing if he just flat-out didn't try to hide it. they'd be able to stop him and send him away. heck, he doubted he'd even make it past the front gate before they turned him away.
...
was he really going to do this?
...
yes, yes he was.
standing up, Danny started making his way out of the alleyway and over to the tall building with Wayne's name on it. It was a good place to start, maybe he could even find one of the kids and walk with them. or, even better, he could find Mr. Wayne and walk with him. he liked that better than following some kid around.
suddenly, a car honked right next to him, the window rolling down to reveal a tired and disheveled man behind the wheel. glancing up, Danny made eye contact with the taxi driver.
the man yawned and gestured for him to get in, already speaking before Danny could decline. "Mr. Wayne! Your father," yawn, "Father already paid for me to take you home. just hop in."
Danny blinked then glanced around, looking to see if the Wayne the man was talking about was around. nope. turning back, Danny spotted a green sticky note on the back seat.
well, alright then. guess he was getting into the taxi and doing this after all. Clockwork obviously approved if he messed with the timing of things.
Next
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heavndoll · 3 months
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𝐓𝐄𝐀𝐑 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐀𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓.
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pairings — fem reader and eddie munson.
summary — you and eddie are childhood best friends, and you've always trusted him. your love for him was innocent — his love for you was the complete opposite.
warning tags — adult language and semi-graphic violence. dark!eddie munson. unhealthy obsessive and possessive behavior. eddie like worships reader, reader lowkey is into it. term “y/n” is used once (had to be sorry). the smut for the nasties; unprotected activities, f!ngering, oral (reader receiving), choking, degradation, overstim, eddie getting mean with his d!ck. there is aftercare <3
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Eddie Munson was your best friend. You and him grew up together, homing in the same trailer park, and guardians being friends.
You were glad to have him in your life. He was always there, willing to tend to any of your needs, and would do anything for you.
You found it sweet.
But Eddie would kill for you. He knew you took all his gestures into an innocent, sweet manner, and he was okay with that — but he was in love with you.
A love that wasn't so gentle and safe. He was obsessed, and was repulsed to the idea of anyone else taking you from him.
No one knew you in all the ways he did.
There wasn't a right match for you, except for him. He patiently waited for you to understand that he was suitable for you, but as time went on, and you got with more guys, it became thinned out.
Eddie would give you a bit more time to accept the truth that he was the man you needed.
"Hey, Eds?" You asked, noticing he was zoned out. The chatter of Hawkins cafeteria couldn't even pull him away from his thoughts. Your sweet voice was the only thing that could.
"What's up?" Eddie asked, picking at the raisins in his lunch pale. "You okay?"
"Do you think there's something wrong with me?" You asked, a mere frowning playing on your lips.
"No, why?" Eddie was confused, his attention falling entirely on you. "Did someone say something to you?"
"No— well, I don't know," you mumbled, rubbing your temple. "You know how I have been talking to Brandon Smith for a while now?"
Eddie nodded, tuned in and listened carefully. "Yeah, one of Jason's other lap dogs."
You sighed, rolling your eyes. "Well, I thought things were good between us. We just went on a third date last Friday, and then, I found out he's taking Annie to the Winter Formal."
"What?" Eddie muttered.
"Yeah! It doesn't make sense to me either," you continued, pursing your lips. "I mean, we never clarified we were exclusive, but I thought we were getting somewhere."
Eddie's blood boiled, and fumed. His hands rolled up, tightening into fists, and had skilled at not showing you his visible anger. "There's nothing wrong with you," Eddie reassured, giving you a gentle smile. "Brandon is a cracked up fuck, anyway. No good for you."
"Yeah, maybe you're right," you chuckled lightly, and Eddie hummed, patting your shoulder. "It's just shitty. He seemed really genuine."
"You'll find someone good," he said, handing you his bag of trail mix. "You're a sweet girl, and for Brandon to do that is a douchebag move. You don't need that, okay?"
You flashed a soft smile at Eddie, nodding and began to eat the trail mix.
Eddie's friends came to sit at the table, but were the only ones to notice his dull, blank expression. They had a poor feeling it had to do with you, yet chose not to question, and simply eat their lunches.
You were too distracted in your conversation with Dustin to notice what was going on, and what ran through Eddie's head.
Brandon Smith was the only person in the locker room after his last period at Gym had ended. He was putting on his shirt, his hair damped and messy as he just gotten out of the shower.
A pair of footsteps creeped up the locker room, near him, and he raised a brow. Not particularly scared, but worried, he peeked behind the lockers, and didn't see a single person.
He shook it off, assuming it was a student who forgot their bag.
"Hey, Brandon!" Eddie exclaimed as he popped up on the opposite side of him, smiling. Brandon shrieked, earning a chuckle out of Munson. "Did I scare you?"
"What the fuck, freak?" Brandon snapped, zipping up his Gym bag. "What the fuck are you doing in here?"
"Here to chat," Eddie answered. "That's all."
"Chat?" Brandon nearly barked a laugh, rolling his eyes. "What makes you think I would want to talk?"
"Oh, but you're fine with chatting with me when you're fuckin' fiending!" Eddie said, clear and loud enough for any remaining people in the locker room to hear.
Brandon glared at him. "That's a different scenario."
"Not really," Eddie muttered, stuffing his hands into his own pockets, his hand grasping onto the switchblade that sat within the right one.
Brandon sighed, realizing he wouldn't be able to leave until Eddie got his words across. "Okay, what do you want?" He asked, leaning against the lockers, Eddie only standing a few inches away in front of him. "I got places to be."
"Tell me what happened with Y/N," Eddie said, monotone and blunt in a blink.
"What? Why?" Brandon wondered. "You're wanting to talk about her?"
Eddie hummed. "Answer the question."
"Well, man," Brandon sighed, crossing his arms over his chest. "She gave it up too easily, and got too many damn problems. She's a trailer park whore, and I didn't need that."
Eddie's head spun, and the light around him was slowly sinking into nothingness. "Gave it up?"
"Ya'know, her body, her pussy," Brandon clarified, finding it humorous. "She has no self respect, and that's pathetic."
Another word didn't come out of his mouth as Eddie grabbed him, and tossed him to the ground. Eddie's vision was a blur and his mind was clogged, but could understand the punches he was throwing into Brandon's face.
The rings on Eddie's fingers doubled the aggression and assault.
He swore he cracked his cheekbone, and caused a concussion, but didn't care. He didn't care if he killed him in this very locker room, because all that mattered is that he would stay away from you for good. That he would never talk about you in a derogatory way ever again.
Eddie needed to make sure of that – he had to.
"Fuck you!" He screamed as his fist collided into Brandon's left eye, and could hear him gasping, crying, and wanting to fight back, but Eddie's weight held him down. "Fuck you, fuck you, fuck you!"
Eddie breathed heavily, one of his punches breaking Brandon's nose, an audible snap coming into his ears. He got up, hovering over the sobbing, vulnerable male.
He wanted to laugh — one of Hawkin's best basketball players, who was intimidating yet charming, and broader and stronger than Eddie, was now curled up in a ball, bleeding out of his face.
Eddie struck his ribcage with a hard kick, and Brandon groaned, pleading for mercy. "Fucking pussy," he mocked, tossing another strike of his foot to his side. "You deserve this. You deserve worse than this."
"I—I'm sorry!" Brandon sobbed, gasping heavier, trying to engulf oxygen into his bruising lungs. "Please."
Eddie crotched down, gripping a chunk of his hair, brought his head up and forced eye contact. "You're not sorry. You just make sure to never speak to her, or I will kill you next time." He released Brandon's hair from his grasp, his head thudding on the tile floors.
Eddie's every step had a bounce to it as he walked out of the locker room.
You were laying on your stomach on your bed, flipping through magazines as music faintly played in your bedroom. You carelessly eyed new styles, humming to yourself.
A knock planted softly at your door, and you peeked up, seeing your aunt. She smiled small, a cigarette dangling between her lips. "Chrissy Cunningham is on the phone," she exhaled a blow, "asking for you."
"Did she say why?" You wondered.
"No, but she sounds shaken up," your aunt continued, and you nodded, getting up from your bed, strolling to the kitchen where the landline hanged out at.
You picked up the phone, bringing it up to your ear. "Hey, Chris. What's up?"
"Brandon is in the hospital," Chrissy said, and your heart sank. She was sniffling, overly worried and in panic. "It's so bad."
You paused. "W—What happened? Why is he in the hospital?"
"Jason and the guys found him in the locker room," Chrissy's voice began to shutter. "He was beaten, really bad. Nose broken, ribcages fractured, nearly blind in his left eye — it's so gory."
"What? W—Who... What? This doesn't make sense," you said, unease and confused. "Did he say who?"
"No, he won't make a confession," Chrissy answered, sighing heavily. "Either way, he can barely talk, or make any sort of comprehension. He has a severe concussion."
You went quiet for a moment, trying to gather up pieces in your head, making a puzzle in your head.
Brandon did have enemies, but it was mostly outcasts, and the smartest kids in school — the opposite clique of him, and Jason's friends. But, those enemies were not capable of any harm, nor would attempt any. If they did, they'd get it worse.
Nothing had happened to him until today when you told—
"Chrissy, I have to go," you muttered, hanging up the line. You ran into your bedroom, grabbing your shoes, and slipping them. Your hands were shaking, your heart thumping and pounding in your eardrums, bile burning your throat.
It was just a thought, a consideration, and you knew Eddie would never hurt anyone.
He was too kind, and gentle.
You stalked out of your trailer, finding your aunt watering the front lawn with a new cigarette in her mouth. "You going to Eds?" She asked, and you hummed. "Okay, be safe."
You continued your stalking to Eddie's uncle's trailer, stomping up onto the porch, and pounded your fist against the door. "Edward Munson!" You shouted, banging persistently on the door. "I know you're in there, I can smell fresh pot!"
After a few more harsher hits, the door opened up, revealing a contented, shirtless Eddie, and had a joint in his mouth. "Well, if it isn't my favorite person," he joked, and crossed his arms over his chest as he leaned against the door frame.
Red, bruising spots were visible on his knuckles. He wasn't even trying to make them discreet.
You brushed past him as you welcomed yourself into his trailer, and he closed the door behind the both of you, his eyes falling into yours.
You stood in the middle of his living room, making a safe distance between the two of you. "Are you responsible for Brandon?" You questioned, and Eddie chuckled, flashing a toothy smile. "I don't have time for your shit, Eddie!"
"Oh, excuse me, sweetheart," Eddie snickered, burning his joint out onto the ashtray that sat on the living's room coffee table. "I knew you'd figure it out."
You scoffed. "So, you did?"
"I may have swung a punch or two at him," Eddie said, grabbing a cheap beer from the fridge. "Nothing too bad."
"He is in the hospital, Eds! He has a severe concussion, fractured bones!" You shouted, irritated at Eddie's amusement. "What the fuck did you do?"
"He called you a trailer park whore," he stated, walking to his bedroom as you trailed behind him. "Saying how you spread your legs easily for him, and that you were just bad for his bullshit reputation."
"He said that?" You asked, Eddie sitting on the edge of his bed, and you stood in front of him.
"He laughed at you. He was practically mocking you," he emphasized, scoffing harshly. "I took care of it. I handled it for you."
"But you didn't need to, Eddie!" You panicked, shaking your head in utter disbelief. "If he comes clean, you'll be arrested. You'll go to jail."
"I really don't care," Eddie said, grinning. "You think this is my first time doing this shit for you?"
You fell silent, suddenly lost in what he was saying.
He got up from his bed, only needing to take a few, close inches towards you. He looked down at you as you stared up at him. "Aidan Walter, Michael Dallas, Kyle Thorne, Richard Fields, Brandon Smith — they all had the same thing to say about you. They degraded you proudly, and you think you deserve that?'
Your mouth opened, but your words croaked in your throat. Nothing came out, shock falling over you. "I... I don't know."
"Every time you came crying to me about a guy who did you wrong, I handled it. This isn't my first time, and they know they can't turn me in," Eddie explained, and you raised a brow. "They're drug addicts. They know if I sneak a word to their coach to drug test them, they're fucked."
"But they could turn you in for being a drug dealer," you retorted, and a faux pout dangled on Eddie's lips. "They have privilege, you don't."
He settled his beer down on his cluttered dresser, turning his attention away from you. "If that's the case, why haven't the others said anything?" Eddie questioned. "You haven't asked me why I did it — that's surprising."
"You did it because you want revenge? Because you were trying to be a good friend?"
"Revenge, yes. I'd beat those fuckers with no hesistation," Eddie agreed, shrugging lazily as he went back to sitting on his bed. "But, I did it because you don't deserve to be talked about like that. I did it because I would do absolutely anything for you — I'd fucking rip apart this filthy world for you."
You took a step back, a brutal realization striking you.
"Are you in love with me?" You asked, so simply, but with so much fear behind your words.
He hummed. "There's my smart girl."
You were oblivious — gullible — to Eddie's generosity, and kindness. A more crucial role behind every word, every action, every thought that came out of him. You didn't know how to comprehend anything, your mind fogged, and mute.
You should've been feeling sick to your stomach, nausea and terror was meant to consume and claim you entirely. A person who had received the news that their best friend beat — and nearly murdered — men who have hurt you, would run away, and shut them out forever.
You didn't do that. You were paralyzed in your spot, only hesitate to make eye contact with Eddie, and could feel his eyes boring into you.
What he did was unsettling and wrong, but your heart couldn't help to ache to what he did.
"You hate me now?" Eddie asked, and you inhaled sharply, peeking at him. You shifted over towards him, bringing him into an embrace, his head resting on your stomach as your hands rested on the back of his head.
"No, no," you mumbled, looking down at him. "But you could end up in jail because of this, Eddie. You have to understand that."
Eddie inhaled your perfume, his mind ransacking with complexed thoughts. He was glad you appreciated his devoted duty, but hated that you were worried about his well being.
He only cared that you would be safe.
"I'll be okay, doll," he muttered, practically smashing his face into your stomach.
You fiddled with his hair, not knowing what was to happen next. He was in love, and obsessed with you — that's not easy news to take in.
You let him out of your embrace, crouching down and stared up at him. "I can protect myself, and... I'm sorry you had to hear those things from Brandon."
Eddie took your face into his hands, his thumbs softly caressing your cheeks, and you could feel yourself melting into his touch.
A delicate touch that held so much violence behind it.
He could do immense damage to another human, but never to you. You were the peace in his chaotic world. You were serene, in contrast to his mayhem. You knew there was always a darkness that consumed him, but you granted such light to it, that he'd forget he even held it in him.
Eddie wanted to hold you close, skin absorbing into one another's, and have you forever. He wanted to tear you apart, but then mend you back together.
The silence that fell into the air was tight, and suffocating.
This man had been your best friend for years, and there was never any unbearable tension until now. In this very moment, where his eyes drowned into yours, and his lips quivered for the taste of yours.
"Can I kiss you?" Eddie cut the silence, his face cautiously inching into yours. "Please?"
A simple kiss, that could change the course of everything. But you wanted it — you wanted Eddie to kiss you. You had never craved such a risk until now.
You nodded. "You can kiss me, Eds."
He didn't let another second pass as his lips smothered yours, and his hands shifted to your waist, drawing you onto his lap. You propped yourself comfortably onto him, his hands snaking around your body, needing you close and secured.
You could taste pot on his lips, your cherry gloss mixing into it. His hands slipped under the sides of your shirt, yet went nowhere near your bra. His thumbs and hands grazed your soft, loving skin, and thought he must've been dreaming — he had yearned for this. For years.
Your own hands brushed his toned body, trickling down to the waistband of his sweats. You let your fingers curl around them, but wait there.
Eddie moved his face back, his taste disappearing from yours, and he grinned at your swollen lips. "Look at you," he mocked, admiring the desperation on your face. "You have no idea how long I've waited for you, sweetheart."
Your heartstrings tugged at his words, and the tips of your index and middle finger carefully touched his lips, eyes focused on this movement. "Do you really love me?" You softly asked. "Why do you love me?"
"You're the purity to this corrupted world," Eddie began, and you blinked up at him, and his gaze locked with yours immediately. "Your beauty is uncompared, and unbearable – it makes me a madman. Look what I've done for you; you have me in your power, and you don't even know it."
Eddie Munson is in love with me, you thought to yourself. He is in love with me, and I've been so blind to it.
The only man who'd ever wanted you for you. The only man who you didn't need to give your body to, to feel self-worth and loved. You could see in his eyes he meant what he said — that he swore his life on it. And if he were to ever hurt you, he would want death.
He would rather die, than to live with the knowledge that he dimmed your lightness, and damaged you.
"Please kiss me," you pleaded, wanting his love to soak and burn into your skin. "Kiss me, do what you want to me. But Eddie, do not leave me."
Eddie frowned. "I'd die without you."
You nodded, and your lips fell back onto his, bodies pressing against one another. His hands pulled you over and down onto his bed, your body trapped underneath his. "Are you sure you want this?" He asked hastily in between a kiss. "Do you?"
"Yes, I do," you breathed. "I want this."
Eddie kissed your cheek, leaning back, and shifted himself down in between your legs. You propped yourself up on your elbows, watching him take off your shoes, and then make his way to the waistband of your sweatpants.
He hooked his fingers under the hem of your bottoms and panties, looking up at you with another look of reassurance.
"I trust you," you said, and he pulled off both pieces of clothing, disposing them to a pile of his clothes on the ground.
Eddie parted your legs, laying himself on his stomach, and you could feel his hot breath blowing against your cunt. You relaxed your body, and Eddie's mouth attached itself to your area, earning a soft moan out of you.
You perked your head up, seeing the sight of him gladly eating you out. He wrapped his arms around your thighs, his strong hold locking them in place, and practically buried himself in between them. He moaned to the sweet taste of you, the vibrations buzzing against your sensitive hood.
His tongue ran up and down your slits, his lips plumped and stuck on your cunt. Your head fell back as your noises and breath grew louder, your mouth falling open the second he pushed two fingers into you, working them at a gentle, yet rapid pace.
Eddie was probably the only guy who knew how to properly eat you out, and you didn't have to fake an orgasm with.
"Fuck, fuck," you breathed. "Just like that, baby. Holy fuck."
His fingers were slamming into you, and his mouth separated from your cunt, his lips plumped and covered with your wetness. "Come here, sweet girl," he said as he hovered back over you. "Taste how good you are."
He placed his lips back onto yours, his fingers still violently pumping into you. Uncontrollable, lewd noises elicited out of you, being able to make out his grin pressing against your lips as he brought himself back from your mouth.
"So good for me, sweetheart," he praised,and adjusted himself back onto his stomach, hoisting your thighs over his shoulders. He hooked his mouth onto your cunt, devouring you once more, and you could feel a sweet scorch in the pit of your stomach.
It was too embarrassing and easy for you to cum this earlier than usual. You tried to ignore the hot sensation, focusing on the rhythm Eddie's tongue and mouth made on your cunt, and fucking good it felt.
Eddie had himself deep into your cunt, grateful to even pleasure you this well. All he wanted was to make you feel good.
The fire in your stomach ran to your thighs, and it became torturous to shut out. "Gonna cum," you warned, your voice shuddering. "Keep going, Eds. You're doing so good."
Eddie abided, never letting himself get a second of air as your thighs trembled on his shoulders. "Oh fuck!" You gasped, riding your orgasm out onto his fingers, and he let them fall out of you shortly after. His tongue lapped up your climax, his mouth sucking gently on your cunt.
Your chest heaved, and a fulfilled Eddie detached his mouth from your area, his mouth glistening with your juices. You peeked at him, chuckling and grinning at the sight of him.
"I'm not done with you yet," he said, his hand gripping your forearm, and you suddenly adjusted back on his lap. You whimpered as he used other hand to hold your jaw, having a firm grasp on it, and forcing you to pay attention to him.
"What now?" You asked.
Eddie placed his coated fingers on your bottom lip. "Suck."
You obliged, taking his fingers into your mouth. Eddie looked at you in pure awe, a cocky grin playing on his lips, and kissed the side of your head. Few seconds later, his fingers slide out of your mouth with a pop, and the knuckles of his hand caress your cheek so lovingly.
There was a flip in Eddie's eyes, and body language. He craved more of you, more of your body and desperation. He wanted your tears, screams, and sweat. He needed to see you plead under him, until you all you could think of was him senselessly fucking you.
For this, it was a danger. You were encouraging his obsession, and you couldn't tell if that was okay. It was flattering he hurt people for you, all because he wanted to defend you at every cost — like it was his soul purpose on Earth.
You weren't exactly opposed to his devotion to you, only in fright of how bad it could get.
It wasn't like you hadn't had your own moments when it came to Eddie and other girls. There were a few who had eyes on him, and always dumbly flirted with him — even in front of your bare eyes. You would always think you were being crazy for being jealous, especially when you got angry when Eddie would jokingly tease back at those girls.
You didn't want to share the attention he gave to you.
This was a bad idea. The worst idea to ever exist. But it didn't matter anymore — you and him were the perfect match. Maybe your need for him was always there, but you were too busy with others to notice it.
Those other guys didn't compare to Eddie Munson — none of them. And they would never commit their life to you.
Eddie had finally freed your jaw from his hand, but withheld staring at one another. "I know that look in your eye," he said, inhaling sharply. "You've finally come to your senses. I've been waiting for you to make that realization."
"How long?" You wondered.
"Forever," he answered, and planted his hands under your shirt, letting them carelessly rest there. "Even if you didn't, I still would've handled every guy who fucked you over. I would do it until it caught up to me."
You sighed. "It just might. Brandon will blab."
"Then promise to bail me?" He asked, and you snickered, rolling your eyes.
"My aunt is going to have a rage if you get arrested," you joked, and his grin turned into a small smile. "Let's not worry about that right now, please. I just want you, I want this."
Eddie titled his head to the side, his smile fading. "Be more clear, sweet girl."
You turned coy, your body tensing as his hands gave your torso a squeeze. You decided not to speak, your lips laying on his, and he let your body rut against him. "You're going to drive me more insane," he mumbled, and you hummed. "Come on, doll. Ride me."
You didn't hesitate for a moment, breaking the kiss, and you drew off your top and bra, letting them drop to Eddie's floor.
"Fuck," Eddie breathed, taking a second to memorize your body, and how he just knew it was made for him. "Fuck, you're perfect, doll."
You smiled, and looked over to Eddie's nightstand, finding condoms to lay there. "I'm not your first fuck?" You asked, a hint of bitter in your tone as you snagged an individual wrapper.
"I deserved to have my own fun, don't you think?" Eddie retorted, dragging off his sweats and boxers, dropping them on the floor. He merely sat closer to the middle of his bed, seizing the condom from your hold, and you glared at him. "Don't be so jealous, doll. You're my only girl, promise."
"Were they a good fuck?" You asked, and Eddie snorted while rolling the condom onto his dick.
"And I thought I was too possessive," he mocked, and braced his hands onto your hips, his nails digging into your skin. You were about to protest until Eddie's cock shoved into you, and you gasped at the sudden contact. "Maybe I'll fuck you out."
Your breath hitched in your throat as you and Eddie worked together, your hips rolling and his cock hastily thrusting into you. "Fffucckk, oh my god," you babbled, squeezing your eyes shut, and overwhelmed at Eddie's size.
"You take me so well," Eddie praised, another faux frown on his lips, and grabbed your face. "Look at me when I'm fucking you."
You obeyed as best as you could, cursing and moaning breathlessly. It felt like he was splitting you open, claiming your body entirely, and making you memorize the scynorichize of his cock pounding into your soaking cunt.
"I'm going to fucking damage you," he assured, his hand squeezing your cheeks, and felt as if his nails were drilling into them. "Tear you right apart."
"Yeah?" You taunted, able to pass a giggle through your shuddering breathing. "You're going to hurt me? You're too soft for me to do that, Eds."
He stopped all movements for a moment, and his hand made a switch, sending a hit across your left cheek. It turned your head and neck entirely, feeling his handprint drowning into your skin.
You only laughed. "Slapping me? Some of the guys did the same thing," you said, looking back at Eddie, and wanted to punish him with your words. "I think it was Brandon who would pull my hair and call me his filthy slut."
Eddie snapped. He took your form back under him, your body flattened into his mattress as he hovered over you, his hand furiously grasping your throat. "And you took it like a slut too. Didn't you, silly girl?"
You smiled. "Maybe," you breathed out, able to feel his nails clawing into the sides of your neck. "Maybe I fucking loved every second of it."
"Oh, I'm sure," Eddie muttered, his cock stuffing your cunt again. "But I'm going to make sure you can only think of me forever."
He kept his hand on your throat, and pushed his cock rough into you as you swore he was nearly reaching into your stomach. Your eyes watered, breath hallowed and weak with your pleads for him coming out hoarse and rough, putting one of your hands on his wrist.
"No, you don't get to touch me," Eddie said, pushing off your hand with his free one. "You don't deserve to touch me, silly girl."
You huffed. "Why not?"
"Cause you let all those idiots touch you," Eddie taunted, mocking despair on his face. "And I should just leave you hot and bothered after what you said, but I didn't – so be grateful."
Your lungs engulfed immense amounts of oxygen when Eddie's pulled his hand back, moaning out his name like it was a prayer. He grinned, staying hovered over you, and let his cock sinking deeper and harder into you, watching you fall apart slowly to it.
Sweaty, hot skin smacked throughout Eddie's bedroom, being sure that the whole neighborhood could hear you whining and crying for more of him.
"You sound so pretty for me, doll," he moaned, grinning. He positioned himself back, in a near-sitting style as he tossed your legs over his shoulders and snaked his arms around your waist, continuing to push himself into you.
"Oh shit— ffucckk, Eddie, Eddie," you moaned mindlessly. You were locked in his hold, your body squirming and twitching. Your fingers gripped at his bedsheets, your mind being rotten with the focus of his dick, and how good it felt pounding into you, basically stuffing your cunt.
"Don't you dare fucking cum," Eddie forewarned, chuckling breathily. "Just be a good girl, and take my dick, babydoll. Just take me."
You nodded, knowing there was another climax making its build in your stomach, but refused to pay any mind to it. "You fuck me so good, Eds," you whimpered, eyes rolling back. "Need more of you, please."
"You have me, sweetheart," Eddie promised, pressing his hand on your stomach for additional torture. "But don't try to sweet talk me just so you can cum."
"Just once, please," you cried, resting your hand on top of his hand. "Please, I'll be so good for you."
"Are you not being good for me right now, hm?" He wondered, the ball of his palm sinking further into your belly. "What a pathetic girl you are, trying to get whatever you want."
You hissed and groaned. "Please, please. I c—can't."
"Is my poor girl going to cry?" He taunted, holding back a laugh. "If you cum right now, then you'll have to keep doing so until I think you're done."
"Y—yeah, please!" You agreed mindlessly, chewing harshly onto your lower lip.
He hummed, and tapped the side of your thigh as a sign. Your body nearly melted into his mattress, your orgasm pushing out of you, and you could see a flash of stars in your vision. "Oh fucking hell!" You screamed, your body twitching seconds later.
Eddie pushed your legs off of his shoulders, letting himself fall out of you, and was already rotating you around onto your stomach. "We're not done, sweet girl," he said, planting a gentle kiss to your cheek before his arms were looped around your limp form, bringing your ass close to him.
You were barely to collect any thoughts, groaning the moment Eddie was back in you. He worked at a slow, steady peace in you as he used his strength to hold you up and close, stifling a chuckle in his throat.
"You said you were going to be good for me," Eddie reminded, his fingers clawing and curling into your hair, forcing the majority of your body to be picked up and brought against his. "Is this all you can really take, hm? Made me think you were better than this."
You grinned, sweat beading on your forehead and body. Your face was close enough to his as you glanced up at him, trying to correct your breathing. "You made me think you were gonna fuck me better than the others," you said lazily. "But it's about the same."
"Yeah?" Eddie rolled his hips forward, snapping a single sharp and deep thrust into you, and all at once, he began to violently pound into you. He made sure to keep you close to him as yours and his moaned mixed, and echoed throughout his bedroom.
Your eyes fell to the back of your head, grasping onto Eddie's arms and could feel your body growing more frail within every thrust that pushed into you. You were entirely trapped in his hold – not that you were complaining, it felt nice.
"That's my good girl," he praised, passing a kiss to the side of your head. "You take my cock so well."
You hummed, nodding, and could only hear him breathily chuckle to your obedience. He let his right hand creep up between the valley of your breasts, and it wrapped itself around your throat, using it as an extra leverage to hammer himself deeper into you.
"You seem to be liking my cock a lot," Eddie teased as your noises shuddered, and tears pricked at the corner of your eyes from the overwhelming exhilaration and pleasure. "Just wanted to be fucked and treated like a whore. All you had to do was ask, sweetness."
"Ffucckk you— ahh!" You cried the second the head of his cock started to continuously strike at your orgasm. "Oh shit, ffuucckk! Right there!"
Eddie orgasm was rising, keeping you locked and tight on him as he allowed himself to be audible, letting you know how good you were making him feel. "Fuck, sweetheart, I'm gonna cum," he panted, giving you another sweet kiss to your cheek. "Cum with me, yeah? I want my girl to cum with me."
Your next climax had surfaced into the depths of your belly as you could feel Eddie's arms and body begin to tremble. "W—Wait!" You breathed, swallowing thickly. "I want you to cum in me."
"What?" Eddie chuckled, stopping himself entirely. "Repeat that for me."
"Oh, you heard me, Munson," you said, and he grinned. "And yes, I'm sure."
Eddie granted you that exact wish, letting himself out of you for a mere second and tossed his condom carelessly on his bedroom floor before taking his cock back into you. He looped his arms back around your form, tugging you back towards him as he perfectly fucked himself into you, and you bounced back onto his cock.
It didn't take long for both highs to come back to the surface, your head falling back and landing on his shoulder, and he smirked, brushing strands of hair out of your face. "Be a good whore, and cum," his breath was ragged and uneven, feeling it skim past your cheek. "Don't wanna disappoint me, hm?"
"N—no," you rasped, exhaustion slowly falling onto you but gathered enough energy to keep you going.
"Cum with me, honey," Eddie said, a hint of shudder playing in his words. You nodded, your high immediately crashing out of your body as your body jerked and nearly fell out of Eddie's grasp, but he had enough strength to hold you in his embrace.
He wasn't far behind you, his orgasm hitting its final peak, and rushing out of him, into you. He pushed softer and slower thrusts into you as he rode out his orgasm. Eventually, all his motions came to a stop, and his arms unhooked from your body, watching you collapse onto his mattress, and he fell out of you.
You took your time to recover your proper breathing pattern and energy, laying flat on your stomach, and you could feel sweat stick and drip around your body.
Eddie rested next to you, not caring that you were both drenched in sweat desire, and brought you next to him, letting you rest in his arms. Your head was on top of his chest, listening to his heartbeat as he was also trying to catch his breath.
"So that was," you tried to speak, your throat scratchy and hoarse. "Oh fuck."
He stifled a laugh, smiling in pure pride. "We need to clean up, doll."
"I would so gladly get up," you began, sighing warily, "only if you didn't fuck me numb and raw."
"Don't complain," Eddie said, getting himself up, and easily dragged you up off the bed, over his shoulder. "We are getting cleaned up, and then find something to do after."
"Like what?" You wondered, being placed on top of his bathroom sink as he started up a warm bath. "You're not worried Brandon might say something?"
Eddie shrugged. "Not really, no."
"Why not?" You asked. "He has all the privileges and status, you don't."
"Are we really discussing this again?" Eddie asked, moving back over to you while the water ran. "I'm going to be fine. Just let me take care of you, doll."
Your gaze softened as you could see pure admiration and care in his eyes for you. You nodded, chewing onto your lower lip. He pinched your chin, giving your nose a sweet peck, and walked back to the bath to stop the water.
Eddie helped you into the bath, setting you down into it, and the water soaked your body. You moaned to the feeling of it and relaxed into it.
"Feel good?" Eddie smiled, sitting in front of you, and you hummed in response.
You brought your legs up to your chest, hugging them, and rested your cheek on it, looking at Eddie with a small smile playing on your lips.
He noticed. "Yes, sweetheart?"
"Nothin'. Just love you, Eds," you said. You had told each other 'I love you' on many occasions, but this time, it had a different meaning behind it. "Always have, always will."
"I love you too, sweet girl," Eddie responded, bringing himself closer to you, and kissed your forehead before pressing his against yours. "Always have, always will."
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reiderwriter · 4 months
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🧺 Any More 🧺
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Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader
For the CM Kink Bingo Challenge 2024
Requested: spencer realizing that he’ll never love someone as much as he loves you. (whether that be because of a case or what have you), his mind is absolutely blown with how much he worships you and how much you love and care for him and he shows you that with the softest most sickeningly sweet sex you and him has ever done. <3
Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI! Discussions of case details, case burnout, very close friends to lovers, oral (f receiving), vanilla sex (p in v penetration). Discussions of mental health, and two idiots in love.
A/N: I'm hitting the prompt Vanilla for this one, so please don't be scared off by the KinkBingo tags! I had a lot of fun writing this one (and adding Pride and Prejudice quotes into the smut scene because HELLO). Let me know what you think in the replies~♡
Masterlist || Bingo Board
You hadn't seen Spencer in 100 days. Which in the grand scheme of things wasn't that long, trapped in the purgatory of a ‘what if’ the way you had been for the last eight years. 
You'd lived without him for longer than 100 days before. He'd been in prison, you'd been on assignments, you'd lived an entire life before meeting him, but now somehow 100 days was too much time, and you were exhausted. You understood why Spencer had to take some time away from you, from the team in an official capacity after everything he'd been through. You supported him even. 
But when even your free time didn't overlap anymore, you wondered if your relationship would ever be the same again. 
Spencer was a friend, your best friend, probably. You'd arrived on the BAU team, he'd rattled off some statistics, stammering the way through them, and you'd immediately warmed to the man. He was brilliant, funny, and fiercely loyal, and you tried your best to protect him even when the job seemed designed to break people like him into thousands of little pieces. 
You'd tried to convince him to leave before, after Maeve had died. You didn't want to see him heart broken again, but no one else had seemed to agree. 
“Reid needs purpose,” they'd said. “Reid needs something to do.” 
What Reid needed was to not end up dead before he had a chance to be happy, and happiness didn't come often in your field of work. 
You'd been almost vindicated a year later when he'd been shot again, almost fatally. Vindicated, maybe but distraught and inconsolable. Morgan had to carry you screaming and clawing out of his hospital room multiple times. It sounded stupid enough to yourself that it was only then you realized your feelings for the man. 
You wanted to be Spencer Reid's happiness, which was why you were so lost without him. 
He was coming back on Monday, and at least you had the weekend to sort your feelings out about everything.not just about him, but about the job you'd found didn't fit you well enough anymore, about the team you loved like family, about the relationship you knew would likely never come to fruition. 
You dumped your bags at your door when you'd arrived in your house that night, pushed yourself into your bedroom and let yourself collapse on your bed, balling up into as cozy a position as you could. You didn't even bother taking your jacket off, you just let your brain haze over and sleep rush in. 
Three quiet raps at your door lifted you up and out of bed again, not an hour later. 
You grabbed your phone, grabbed the second go-bag you kept at your house, put your shoes back on, and opened the door, expecting Emily and a new case. 
“Where are we going?” You said, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes, not even looking up at your guest. 
“Hopefully, nowhere? I brought takeout.” 
Your eyes widened then, taking in all 185cm of Doctor Spencer Reid, tweed jacket and plastic bag full of chow mein included. 
“Spencer,” you breathed out, like a sigh of relief, letting the bag drop to the floor next to the first one and letting yourself into his arms. 
He held you carefully there for a second before leading you back into the apartment, wrapping an arm around you and ruffling your hair. It was brotherly, and it made you sick to your stomach. 
“What are you doing here?” 
“Emily said you were back from a case,” he started, unpacking the takeaway from the containers. “And it feels wrong to eat this without you.” 
You rolled your eyes and followed him into the kitchen, pulling two forks out of the drawer nearer you and stabbing them in the top of your two cups. 
“Hey, I can use chopsticks now,” he said, defending himself against an inside joke. Spencer was always useless with his hands. 
“I don't care if you can use them, I care that they don't accidentally end up stabbing me,” you said, taking yourself back to your bedroom, Spencer following. 
“You'd hardly die from being stabbed by a wooden chopstick, maybe a papercut or a splinter but-” 
“But you're just bad enough that I don't want to risk it.” 
You kicked off your shoes again and climbed onto your bed. Spencer followed. 
“Remind me again why we aren't sitting on your couch?” 
“Uncomfortable.” 
“Or at your breakfast bar?” 
“Glorified filing cabinet right now. Eat.” 
He shook his head but complied, leaning back against your pillows as you both began carefully eating. Silently, you pulled your laptop onto your bed, opened it up, and pressed play on a movie, one you'd seen more than once, and you'd forced Spencer to watch before as well. 
In a comfortable, friendly silence, you finished your food. You stretched out in a yawn once and then curled into his side, letting his mumbling voice, repeating the movie lines as they were spoken, lull you softly into sleep. 
Spencer knew he had to leave, but he couldn't bring himself to wake you. The movie had finished hours ago, he'd closed the laptop and turned off the bug lights, but he couldn't leave. 
Unlike you, he hadn't counted the days that you'd been apart. He hadn't needed to. He knew you'd be waiting there for him when he returned, knew you'd give him a smile and a pat on the back, and immediately start bouncing ideas off of him. It was what he loved about you. 
As he laid next to you in your bed, a place he'd absolutely been before, his heart thumped. Just once, but hard. 
Even in sleep, you looked exhausted. Your shirt was crumpled, hair a mess, you were still wearing makeup, and he knew he'd probably get an earful for letting you sleep like that in the morning. You were a mess, and he still wanted you. 
The thought came to him suddenly, another painful thump of his chest echoing in his mind. He rubbed absent mindedly at his chest as if experiencing heartburn. In the dim light of the room, he let his head drop to the pillow and wrapped two shaky arms around you and pulled you in closer. 
The two of you were a picture - both in suits, both with badges still somewhere on your person, both dearly clinging to the person they feared losing the most. 
When you woke the next morning, it was actually the afternoon. 
“Spencer,” you groaned, melting under the heat of his embrace. Somehow, during the night, he'd rolled on top of you, pressing you into the bed with a delightful pressure, head nuzzled into your neck, arms tucked around your waist. 
“Spencer, we should get up,” you said again, forcing your eyelids apart as your mascara tried to glue them together. 
“Mmmmhh,” he groaned, moving to pick himself up off you for a minute but lowering himself again. If asked, he'd blame your hand in his hair, stroking the rogue curls gently, as if he were a prized pet and you their carer. 
“Spencer, its 2pm.” 
“On a Saturday.” You laughed at how pouty his voice sounded, but he complied and rolled off of you slightly, arms still wrapped around you. 
“Come on. Get up. I've got some clothes that might fit you, let's get you out of the tweed.” 
He huffed but nodded and lifted himself halfway to upright, eyes still closed lazily as he let in the light millimetre by millimetre. 
“God, my face feels horrible,” you said, itching at your nose. “How did we even sleep so long like this? My belt is still on, Spencer, my belt.” 
“If you were still wearing a weapon, then I'd be worried,” he smiled. 
You shot him a sarcastic look and finally detangled yourself, only to clasp his hands and pull him forward as well, letting him trail you to your closet. 
“Here, change in the bathroom,” he nodded and walked away, following directions with eyes still closed, as if it were really his apartment and not your own. 
100 days without him, and it was as if it had only been 100 hours. Your entire body chemistry changed when he was around, the stick holding your spine rigidly in place, dissolving into calm, into a smile and a free giggle. It felt right again, and you almost forgot you'd ever felt wrong. 
After briefly changing, you swapped place with Spencer, who'd exited the bathroom with a toothbrush hanging out of his mouth and wet hair. 
“Dry it for me?” He asked, sitting on your couch, and you nodded your ascent. A shower and a quick change later, and you were doing just that. 
As much as he tried to keep his head upright, it kept lolling onto your thigh, yawns stretching out of him as he nuzzled closer to you. 
“Spencer, you're like a big kid, keep your head up.” 
“I'm not a kid,” he laughed, hooking his arms behind your knees and nuzzling closer into your soft sweats. “I'm just tired.” 
“You're right. A child would probably be better behaved.” 
“Our child would be,” he sighed, but you'd already turned the hairdryer back on, drowning out everything. Everything but that thump again. A child, he was thinking about children, and more importantly, he was thinking about your children. With him. 
He'd always imagined himself with a family, knowing it would ultimately stay in his imagination. But for a second, his visions changed. It wasn't just a child or two. It was you. Thump. 
Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump. 
He only released the image when you finally pushed his head off of you and stood, turning away from him to get a glass of water from your kitchen. 
“So, any plans today? Books to read, papers to mark, undergrads to run away screaming from?” You let the ice water cool your hot cheeks, but kept your back to him. You were hot, embarrassed, and you were looking at him in a sickeningly sweet way that could only be described as love struck or struck dumb. 
“No, no, I finished all my obligations at the college yesterday,” he said, following behind you and picking up your cup when you set it down, taking a sip himself. 
“I was… I was actually hoping we could spend some time together? Unless you had plans, which is totally fine-” 
“No, Spencer, yeah, I have no plans, that's…. Well I have to do laundry, which is a bit boring but, no. No plans.” 
“Laundry?” 
“Two week case in Florida, I don't know how you didn't smell me yesterday, Spencer. I'd be running for the hills.” 
He laughed and stepped away again, grabbing the two go bags by the door and coming back into your space. 
“How about we get this done now so we can spend the day in a Who-Trek marathon?” 
“Make that a Who-Greys Anatomy Marathon, and you have yourself a deal.” 
He pouted again, and you snorted at the sight, taking another sip of water to calm yourself before you could react safely to that face. 
“Come on, you know you've been dying to know what happens next at the Grey Sloane Memorial Hospital.” 
“I thought it was called the Seattle Grace Mercy?” 
“Oh we better get to that laundry now. You have a lot to catch up on.” 
Grabbing a bag in one hand and his free hand in your other, you made your way down to your building's laundry room. But despite the man by your side and the relaxing day threatening to stretch ahead of you, a gloom caught you in the corridors. 
You'd worked for two weeks, practically solid. You'd killed a man two days ago, or at least someone on your team had multiple shots having been fired. Another day on your job, another unsub felled, and everyone else was content with this just being a part of the job description. 
It felt like each step towards the laundry room, each thing you did that was normal, that was regular, threw back in your face the pain you endured to save lives. 
The bag in your hand weighed you down, pulling you lower and lower by the second. 
You reached the laundry room, and you found the weight almost unbearable, stopping just before you could step in. You didn't have to think about what came next though, because suddenly the bag was out of your hands and Spencer was sorting your laundry for you. 
“It's a Saturday, so your neighbour's won't complain if we separate the darks and lights into two machines, will they?” He asked, not looking up at you as he worked pouring out the fabric softener and the detergent. “Y/N?” 
You hadn't noticed the lightness in your body until the tears hit your cheeks, the weight gone with his support. 
“Y/N, what is it? What's wrong?” He said, hands cupping your face, because of course he was immediately at your side. 
“I-I can't do it, Spencer…” your voice shook, pitching upwards, your vision blurring with tears. 
“Can't do what, Y/N? Talk to me please, let me help?” 
“I can't do laundry!” You said, finally bursting into a full fit of tears and burying your head in his waiting chest. 
“L-Laundry?” He said, trying not to laugh, but the smile slipping out anyway now you were holding him. 
You only sobbed again, nodding into his shirt, aware you were probably leaving snot all over it but not being able to care. It was your shirt anyway. You would just have to add it back to your laundry pile. 
The thought set you off on another wave of sobs, and Spencer set about comforting you again. Keeping an arm wrapped around you, he put his quarters into the machines and set them off before quickly ushering you back up the stairs into your apartment. 
“Y/N? Y/N, please talk to me,” he begged, smoothing your hair out of your eyes as you tried to gather yourself.
“I don't…. I can't….” You took a breath again, aware of the way your breathing hitched in your chest as you did. 
“I don't think I can do this anymore,” you said, and his eyes widened quickly. 
“This? Y/N, if you mean this as in us, then I can't-” 
“This job,” you clarified, hands digging into the soft flesh of his arms further as he held you, finally sitting back on your couch. 
“The job. Okay, the job. That's okay. We all feel like this at some point.” 
You sniffed again and refused to meet his eyes. 
“But this isn't like the other times this - It's like my whole b-body is protesting, and I can't sleep, and if I don't, then I might get sloppy and an unsub could-” 
“Y/N, focus on my voice. You're spiralling. Listen to my voice, let's take some breaths, and think about this for a second.” 
He guided you through some breathing, a hand on your back tapping out beats even as his voice grew quiet. 
When you finally relaxed, you were sat on top of him, his hand rubbing circles into your back. 
“I think it started when you left,” you whispered. “When you went to Mexico, and then, you know,” you've voice thickened, and you couldn't get the words out. 
“And then these last 100 days they've just been…difficult.” 
“100…difficult,” he echoed, almost breathless as he listened to you. 
“It's like I can't do it without you. I never had to try to do it without you, and now I get what people say when they say this job is shitty, because it is when your best friend isn't there.” 
You gave him a weak smile and wiped away your tears, trying to climb from his lap. But his firm arms held you still, and you didn't really want out anyways. 
“When I get home, everything is different, and I can't make myself do anything. If you weren't here, I wouldn't have done that laundry. I'd let it sit and avoid it for weeks. Do you understand?” 
“Y/N, lots of people feel depressed sometimes-” 
“It's not - Spencer, I don't think this is something I can medicate my way out of. I don't know what to do because I can't do my job without you, and I can't be happy doing my job, and if I leave my job I'll be without you and then-” 
Your voice cracked again. 
“And then I still won't be happy.” The words were barely a whisper, but they were a plea, too. You weren't sure what for. 
“You can't be happy without me?” He asked, but it was more a statement than anything else. Spencer felt horrible in that moment as his chest rattled, gleeful that he was your happiness. 
“I love you,” he said, outloud finally after eight years. 
“I love you, too, Spencer, but-” 
“No, Y/N. Listen to me. I. Love. You.” The thumping of his heart set the tempo for the choir that was his senses to begin singing, as he finally leaned forward and kissed you.
“I love you, and I don't care if you're working at the BAU or if you're avoiding laundry at home. I, god, you're amazing and wonderful, and you're a human being, and you've our yourself under so much pressure for the last decade to keep me alive, to keep all of us alive really and….” 
He took another breath, leaning into kiss you one more time. 
“And you deserve a break.” 
“W-When we take breaks, people die.” 
“Did anyone die when I was teaching for the last three months? When JJ went on maternity leave?” 
You shook your head, but your brain was still a mess. 
“You all had reasons, I-” 
“You have reasons, too. Y/N…. Y/N, let me be your reason.” 
For a moment or two, Spencer truly thought you were going to say no. He thought you would get up and walk away, or better yet, ask him to leave and never come back. 
So when you pressed your lips to his, he was sure that this was a dream. 
But to you, it was salvation. Spencer Reid's love was the lifeline you'd been thrown, and it was buoyant enough to make you start floating. 
His hands kneaded the flesh at your hips as he pulled you closer still to him, his tongue slipping into your mouth to explore every part of you there. 
“Y/N… love…you,” he mumbled with each spare breath he caught, and you only detangled your lips to hear him say it again as he pressed similarly heated kisses against every inch of your exposed skin. 
When Spencer's mind lost its ability to create original speech, he leant back on a lifetime of information, of learning love through books and people and marathons with you. 
“I know that all I know right now is that I love you. And I know that I always will,” he whispered, lifting you and carrying you back to the bed you'd only crawled from an hour hence. 
A hand slid under your shirt, and slowly pushed it over your head, letting it slowly drop to the floor as he held you tenderly. 
“To me, you are perfect.”
His mouth found one nipple, and he gently kissed, then suckled at it, hands softly caressing your stomach, feeling along every ridge of you as you writhed under him. 
“Of all the FBI Units, in all the towns, in all the world, she walks into mine.” 
“Spencer,” you said, voice still thick with tears, but these ones more tender, more joyful. 
His hand eased your sweats over your ass and off, his hips settling between your legs as if he found the place he was made to lie forever. 
“The truth of it is, I’ve loved you from the first second I met you.” 
His mouth trailed lower until his tongue hit your clit, brushing against it languidly, as if it was his deepest desire to taste you and nothing else ever again.
His tongue flattened and flicked and pushed inside of you as you replayed his words again and again and again. You found yourself repeating them with him. 
“I love you,” you echoed as he pushed a finger inside of you. 
“I.. love you,” you gasped as he added another. 
“I love you,” you screamed as your back arched up off the bed, finding your pleasure in his tongue, just ad you'd found love in his words. 
“You have bewitched me body and soul, and I love….” He freed his cock from his pants, and took it in hand.
“I love…” With another kiss, he pressed the tip of it against you, asking for permission silently as you nodded your head. 
“I love you.” He pushed in slowly, but it wouldn't matter how he did it because now you knew how he felt, and you didn't want to return to a time of not knowing. 
Hooking your legs around him, Spencer dropped his forehead to yours and looked you directly in the eyes as he began moving. In and out, he thrust, mouth open in a moan of pleasure, likely mirroring your own.
The poetry, the movie lines, they were gone now, and Spencer was left with nothing but you, and love, and love for you. 
“Spencer,” you moaned out, and he felt his chest swell. Pride. His name on your tongue, his body pressed to yours, claiming you as his ad you claimed him as yours. 
He came with a shudder and you were not far behind, his undoing sending a shiver up your spine as his fingers grazed your clit again. 
You sat panting for a minute, still attached, still forehead to forehead. 
You weren't sure if it was him who giggled first or if it was you, but you were glad it was one of you. 
You spent the rest of the night, the rest of the weekend, wrapped in his warmth, dressed in his love, taking each day a step at a time as you basked in his adoration.
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i-cant-sing · 5 months
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Time Traveller Au pt 5
Part 1 is here. Part 2 is here. Part 3 is here. Part 4 is here. AU masterlist is here. Check out my MASTERLIST for more!
Part 6 is here!
This is kinda long so bring your snacks along.
Baldwin and a woman- kissing.
You were in your room right now, fiddling with your time machine now that you had one tool to pry it open. Just 20 minutes ago, you had witnessed Baldwin and some girl kissing, and very swiftly you, turned and left the scene before either of them could notice you. You dont need to meddle in their business- why should you?
Its not like I actually want to stay here and confront him if he really did betray his future wife.
Someone knocked quickly on your door before entering in.
"Y/n!" Baldwin beamed as he ran towards you and picked you up, spinning you around. "Princess! I missed you!" He exclaimed, putting you down and kissing your forehead. Though he still kissed you with the same intensity as ever, you didnt feel the warmth as you usually did.
"Hello." You said monotonously, it was the best you could do to keep your voice stable. Baldwin, still in a daze, cupped your face in his hands and gazed lovingly at you.
"You are a sight for sore eyes." Shut up.
You looked away as Baldwin continued to stare into your soul. "So... how was your trip? Tell me all about it!" He wrapped his arms around your shoulders, pulling you further to him.
"It was fine." You replied, looking at the collar of his shirt. You refuse to look up into his eyes, lest you lose control of your temper. "Just fine? What about your family? Did you find them?" His voice held genuine concern.
You hummed, still not looking up. "I have found some clues, but I will need to go there again to find more."
Baldwin pouted. "Again? No. Being away from you for just 1 week already felt like a lifetime!" Oh I bet. Thats why you couldnt stop yourself from kissing some whor-
"I need to go, Baldwin. Its important for me to find them." You said with the same serious tone, and it didnt go unnoticed by him this time.
He tilted your chin up to meet his eyes. "Are you okay?"
"Of course, why wouldn't I be?" You tried to pull away, but his arms held you firmly. His eyes studied you again, and he wasn't convinced.
"Princess, tell me whats bothering you." You. You are bothering me.
As much as you wanted to say that, you didnt. Cheater or not, he still is the king.
Finally, you gave him a small smile. "I'm sorry, I'm just- tired from the travelling." He sighed in relief, using the back of his hand to caress the side of your face. "Oh, I bet you are darling. Why dont you take a nap now and I'll come fetch you for dinner?"
-
Baldwin threw you a feast on your return. Even though you had no appetite, you still joined him because you cant completely ignore him without raising suspicion. So, for now, you'll bide your time. You'll play the fool.
It just didnt make any sense. Why- why was he trying so hard to be affectionate with you? Why he wanted to marry you when he was interested in someone else? And before anyone says that maybe he's not that into her- um, back in this era, when everyone was conservative, even Baldwin was religious, he wouldn't just kiss any girl out of wedlock unless he was absolutely sure he was going to marry her.
"Y/n?" You looked up from your plate at Sibylla. Baldwin had invited his sister and Guy to celebrate your return. "Tell us, how was Egypt?"
You could feel Baldwin's eyes on you, but you didnt look his way. "It was good. Salauddin was a very good host, he had arranged for me to see the pyramids."
"Ah, how kind of Salauddin. I'll be sure to write him a letter and send him some gifts. What do you think, princess?" Baldwin offered, but you only gave a small hum and barely spared a glance his way before continuing to talk with Sibylla.
"My king, I do not think it would be wise to do that. The Muslims are our enemies-" Guy interjected but Baldwin shot him down with a look. Baldwin didnt even have to glare at Guy to intimidate him.
"I have brought some souvenirs for you. They're in my room- I'll show them to you later." You smiled at Sibylla who beamed back.
Dinner was mostly uneventful, or until dessert was served and Guy began choking on blueberry. "Guy!" Sibylla cried out as her husband began thrashing about from the lack of air. The servants tried to help him, slapping his back and all, but really what could they do.
Serves him right for trying to eat and start a propaganda against Muslims again. But alas, you needed Guy alive if you wanted to bring the downfall of Baldwin and Jerusalem, just as history had it.
So you walked over and pushed everyone away before performing Heimlich manoeuvre. It took a few minutes but the blueberry finally dislodged itself from his wind pipe and out.
"Oh! Guy-!" Sibylla rubbed his back as he coughed while a servant passed him some water. She smiled at you gratefully. "You saved him, Y/n! Thank you! You really are an angel!" Guy finally recovering from his coughing fit, pushed Sibylla's hands away and glared at you.
"She did not save me- I was not dying-!" He argued, but before Baldwin could defend you, you replied nonchalantly.
"I agree. You werent dying. This was just God's way of telling you to shut up sometimes. Hallelujah!" Baldwin had to cover up his laugh as everyone in the room automatically said "Hallelujah", not giving Guy a chance to retaliate.
Baldwin's eyes sparkled with amusement as he found you smirking.
You're a clever one.
-
Baldwin came to fetch you for breakfast the next day. He came to your room last night, just minutes after Sibylla had left, but one of your maids informed him that you had already went to sleep. Slightly odd, as the king would always wish you good night before you slept, but he suppose you were tuckered out from your long journey.
However, he was dumbfounded when he saw all your maids standing outside your room, whispering amongst each other.
"What is going on? Why are you not with the princess?" Baldwin asked, quickly waving them off as they bowed.
"Your majesty, the princess- um she has started her bloody flux."
"Her WHAT?!"
"Her monthly cycle." Oh. Periods. Baldwin sighed. He thought some terrible accident had occurred.
Then again, periods in medieval times were not a good news either. Sure, they did indicate fertility and all, but woman were still shamed about it, especially religiously. Some people believed that cramps and bleeding were a punishment for Eve's original sin. Others even believed that since one is bleeding for such a long time, then that person is "sick" and could transfer this "disease" to those in contact or even near mensturating women. A small minority even thought that this monthly flow was some sort of sorcery or curse that could ruin entire crop fields. Add on to that the lack of sanitary pads/tampons and no ibuprofen, and you get what would be a terrible time for women.
"Please inform the princess that I'm here-"
The maids shared a look. "Your majesty, it is not advisable to be near the princess when she is sick-"
"Inform the princess. Now." The maid's heart almost dropped at his tone, before following his order. Moments later, she returned looking even more nervous than before.
"Y-your majesty, the princess insists that she will see you herself when she is feeling better, for now she would like to rest." Baldwin frowned. Just how unwell were you? Are you- are you really that unwell or do you just not want to see him?
No. You wouldnt avoid him like this. He hasnt done anything wrong.
Baldwin looked at the maids again, who were waiting with bated breath. "Bring herbal medicines for the princess. Ensure the best care for her. Every need must be met." The consequences of not following his order didnt need to be voiced.
-
You returned back to tinkering with your time machine when you heard his retreating steps. Were you on your period? Yes. Were you so sick that you did not want to even look at Baldwin? No, but then again, your cramps hit worse on day 2 and your ibuprofen was burned away with your clothes.
Then again, PMS-ing or "working on your time machine" wasnt the real reason you refused to meet Baldwin. It did contribute to it, but deep down you knew you were still bothered by the fact that he kissed that woman.
You dropped your time machine on the bed exasperatedly. Clearly, you werent going to be able to focus on this as long as you didnt confront your feelings about the kissing. So, you became your own unpaid therapist.
First of all, was it really cheating? It was just a kiss- nope. You shook your head, deciding. It so was cheating! Especially considering the time period and how conservative everyone was.
Alright. Next question- was it intentional? You closed your eyes, trying to come up with excuses. Maybe he was drunk? No. Baldwin never gets that drunk, and even drunk, you highly doubt he's one to go for day time drinking. Perhaps that lady initiated the kiss? Yeah, thats possible. She kissed him, but- your lips pulled into a scowl as you recalled the sight. He didnt push her back for a good few seconds. Of course, you didnt stick around for long to see if he did, but still, Baldwin should've pushed her back. Maybe he had his back turned and she caught him by surprise- you sighed. No way. Baldwin's reflexes were too fast, to the point you think he probably has a sixth sense. He wouldn't have been caught off guard, or even let anyone get this close to him.
You rolled your eyes. Intentional or not, at the end of the day, the fact is that Baldwin didnt immediately push her away and smack her down on the ground.
On to the next query- who the hell was that lady? Because nobody would just go up to the king and kiss him, especially when said king made sure to announce his engagement to the entire world. So, she planned it. Yes, no one would dare to do that unless they knew they could get away with it. So maybe she's someone Baldwin knows. Personally. Maybe a childhood friend? An old bethrothed? Or his favourite whore because Baldwin isnt as innocent as he seems and decided to have a bachelor party while you were away?
And finally, the burning question- why did it bother me who he was locking lips with? You crossed your arms against your chest defensively. Why did it bother me so deeply? Was I jealou- You scoffed. No. Definitely not. Okay, maybe I am a little jealous. And who wouldn't be? Anyone in my shoes would understand. Perhaps I enjoyed his attention, its human nature. Normal psychology... yeah. Even if I wasn't going to return his affections ever, even if I never intended to marry Baldwin, of course I would still expect him to be loyal, He didn't know I was going to leave him! He shouldn't be kissing other women! He should've stayed loyal, stayed true to me, his fiancee!
You exhaled sharply, brows furrowing the more you thought about his betrayal. It was understandable for me to be pissed. Why? Because of Baldwin and his stupid lovey dovey words and his disgusting forehead kisses and his dumb big blue eyes that made me believe him.
And even if he didnt actually love you, you thought that at the very least- he liked you, especially when you had literally saved his fucking life.
Your nostrils flared. "Jerk." You whispered to yourself.
A knock came on your door.
It was one of the maids, bringing in something on a tray.
"His Majesty has sent some herbal medicines for you." You were a little surprised at the gesture, not because Baldwin did it. Ugh. No, you were surprised because in medieval times, people often withheld herbal medicines or anything that would relieve period pain purely because many believed that this pain was the punishment of Eve's original sin for all womankind. So- considering Jerusalem's religous history, you were surprised at the gesture.
"I have also brought in more cloth rags for you. Would you like me to help you change-" "No!" You said abruptly, heat rising to your cheek. Yes, you were using linen rags because you didnt have any pads with you. Of course, earlier you had futuristic gadgets and medicines to deal with this situation, but with all of them burned to ashes, you had no choice.
"Oh. My apologies princess. I thought you'd like some privacy so I excused protocol, but I can have your ladies in waiting come and assist you-" "Please stop talking." You begged. "Its... fine. I can do it myself. Please leave the rags in my cupboard. And um-" You fiddled with your hands, trying to gather the words to voice your next request.
The sweet old lady smiled kindly at you. "Yes, princess?"
You looked down, cheeks flushing. "Can you... get me some more soap? And um, thicker rags?"
"Soap? Oh, I'll have the bath prepared right away-"
"No, not body soap. Soap for... washing my clothes." The maid nodded understandingly. "You can give me your stained clothes, princess. I'll wash them myself."
"Im sorry-" She waved you off. "No worries. I should've asked. Its just- woman here usually dont have heavy flows. I'll arrange more rags. If you dont mind me asking, how long does your flow last?"
"Sev-" You were going to say seven days but then realised the more days you added, the less you'll have to see Baldwin, or anyone else really and that will buy you more time to work on your machine. "Ten, sometimes twelve days."
The kind lady's eyes bulged a little. "I-! My apologies, princess! I- I was just caught off guard. Its um- well, its just girls here get shorter flows. The longest I heard was 5 days." Of course, in medieval times, menstrual cycles were shorter due to poor diet and more frequent child bearing.
"10 to 12 days... princess, I apologise for asking this, but have you considered that you might be bleeding excessively because of a disease? Shall I fetch a physician?" She asked with concern.
You shook your head. "No. I have always gotten them this long and I had myself checked by a physician. She said its normal, especially where I'm from." The maid nodded, satisfied that you're not bleeding to death.
-
Baldwin was in his study, working on some official documents when your maid knocked on his door.
"Your Majesty." She bowed gracefully as Baldwin smiled at her, standing from his seat to walk up to her, embracing her in a warm hug.
"Lady Margaret, how are you?" Lady Margaret used to be his royal nanny for a long while and took care of him even when he had contracted leprosy. She was practically a mother figure to him, especially when his own mother died. When Baldwin became engaged to you, he had asked her to be your senior lady in waiting, which will be her official title once you are wed to him. For now, she is your head maid. Baldwin trusted her the most with you. She had a comforting presence, and he was sure that while she took care of you, you would also find comfort in her the same way he used to.
"I'm good, your majesty." She smiled softly. "I just served the princess lunch."
"Hm, and how is the princess now?" The concern in his voice warmed her heart.
"The princess is well now. She's resting at the moment, though I feel a little concerned."
His heart skipped a beat. "Why?"
"Princess Y/n told me about her cycle time." She paused, choosing her words carefully. "It seems that she will suffer through this- diseased period longer than most others."
"How long?"
"Ten or twelve days." His eyes went saucer wide. From what he's heard, the normal duration is often 2 or 3 days, maybe 5 for some. But this?
"Summon the physici-" "I offered, your majesty. But she insists that she already had herself checked and that this is her normal cycle." Lady Margaret informed him, before continuing on to ease his worries. "She seems very knowledgeable about her body, and she is handling it pretty well for now."
"For now?" She nodded. "Of course, only time can tell if the pain increases in its intensity. All we can do is offer our help and pray that this bloody flux passes smoothly and swiftly."
Baldwin pondered over her words for a moment, his brows still furrowed slightly before he finally spoke again. "Please summon the royal physician. I would like to talk to him." He ordered before leaving his study to go to the royal library.
-
The next day, as expected your cramps hit. You had no plans to move an inch today, tossing and turning as you clutched your abdomen, eyes screwed shut in pain.
Somebody knocked on your door. Its likely one of the maids, probably to bring you food or something.
"What?" You called out, pulling the covers over your head. You're in no mood to interact with anyone. You heard the door open and footsteps entering. You exhaled, barely suppressing the painful groan. "Please can you go right now and get me some of the herbal medicines you had given me yesterday- and no, no food. I'm too nauseous."
You heard the person clear their throat, making you frown. Why haven't they left? Oh, please this better be not some "royal protocol" shit where they withhold the drugs from you.
You whipped the blanket off you, eyes still closed as you raged off. "Unless you want me to continue to feel like I have a iron poker stuck up in my spine while my soul leaves me from my feet, you will get me those herb-" you stopped as you opened your eyes to see-
"Baldwin?" He stood there with worry spread across his face.
"Is it... really that bad?" He asks in a low volume, as if afraid that noise would hurt you. In his hands, he held a tray that had a bowl. Walking up to your side, he set the tray on your side table, and thats when you saw the bowl of soup on it.
"Why are you- you're not supposed to be in here." You informed him. "I'm sick-"
"I know." Baldwin began sitting down on your bed, making you scoot back to give him space. He scanned your face briefly, making note of the tired eyes. He raised his hand to touch your forhead, but you turned your face away, making him halt. Why... were you avoiding his touch?
"Princess?" He called you, but you didnt turn to look at him opting to answer by keeping your eyes fixed on your fingers fiddling with the covers. "I'm not well- you shouldnt be near me, or you'll risk getting sick-"
"I'll take the risk." He announced as his hand found its way to your forehead first, and then caressed your cheek. "You took the risk for me too, remember?"
I did. You stared at him. And for what, you prick?
Taking your silence as a sign, Baldwin picked up the bowl of soup and brought the spoon up to your lips.
"I'm not hungry."
"I know, but this will help with the pain and nausea. I promise." He gently nudged the spoon against your lips again, and you parted your lips as the aroma of rosemary and oregano hit your nose.
The soup tasted good and you wouldn't admit it out loud, but it did warm your soul as it slid down your throat. It was earthy and creamy, and just what your cramping body needed.
"Its nice, hm?" He asked, smiling as you gave him a single nod. "I had the kitchen make it with my own recipe."
"Your recipe?"
"Well, I told them about what ingredients to add, ones that would be beneficial for your body and soothe some of your ache. They had to tweak it a bit to make it palatable." Baldwin explained. "And how did you know what ingredients to add?" You interrogated. Did he make it for his lover? Or stole the recipe from her?
"Oh, I just researched it." "Researched?" He nodded, feeding you another spoon. "I read some books."
You couldn't help but scoff. "So what? You're an expert on periods now?"
He chuckled, shaking his head as he scooped up some more soup to feed you. "Of course not! I cant be an expert by spending after only researching for a day. Sure, I summoned the royal physicians to educate me more on the topic but I dont think he knows much."
He spent a whole day... reading about periods? You turned your gaze away from him, choosing to focus on the wall behind him instead. "That's obvious. Just how much could a man know about the female body?"
Baldwin's eyes twinkled. "Exactly my thoughts, princess." He fed you another spoon. "That's why I'm having a royal body of physicians solely focused on studying the female body and affect of medicine built. It will consist of the best physicians, both men and women, from around the world study and work on the diseases concerning the female body. I'll fund it personally."
"What? Why?"
He looked at you dumbfounded. "Obviously for the same reason you said. Currently not much is known about a woman's body, so why not? I don't want you to be suffering again because of my lack of knowledge. I truly do feel helpless when I see you in pain." He confessed sadly.
Liar.
He set the empty bowl to the side before taking your right hand in both of his. "Please, let me know how can I help you? My love, my beautiful princess, it hurts me to see you in this torment." Baldwin said as he kissed the back of your hand gently.
You stared at his face, at those blue eyes of his. How can he- how can he lie with such conviction?
You pulled your hand away from him, looking away (which now that you think about- why am I avoiding his eyes? I didnt do anything wrong!).
"I wish to be alone, Baldwin."
In your peripheral vision, you could see the way his face dropped, and though you should've felt delighted, you felt rather awful- as if you had hurt a child.
It only made things worse when he whispered. "But... why?"
Still avoiding his eyes, you replied. "I- I adjust better to this- this state when I'm alone. I just need to rest, that's all. Some peace and quiet." You convinced yourself that you only explained to him just to get him to leave.
Had you looked at him, you would've seen the sorrow on his face.
"O-of course, princess. As you wish."
He left.
-
The next 3 days were uneventful for you, mostly because you didnt leave your room and- Baldwin didnt return to disturb you.
Which is good. You though to yourself, because it finally gave you enough time to not only work on your time machine but also work on your plan to right the timeline as it should be.
Which is why, today you had decided to leave your room. Of course it helped that Lady Margaret had brought in cotton for you to make a DIY sanitary napkin.
"Where did you get this?" You don't recall cotton being grown easily in cooler climates.
Lady Margaret smiled as she made your bed. "His Majesty had it imported from Sicily."
Your eyes went wide. "How? Sicily is- thats far away!" She chuckled at you shock. "Yes, but I think this sicilian cotton had made its way to Egypt, and perhaps His Majesty acquired it from Sultan Salauddin."
You looked at the large amount of cotton packed into bags in your room. "He bought this much?" Lady Margaret followed your gaze to the pile sitting in the corner, and mistook your surprise for disappointment.
"No, dont worry princess. King Baldwin had bought bales of cotton! They're stored away for future use." Your jaw dropped.
Bales? Baldwin ordered BALES OF COTTON?! You gasped internally. If he had THAT much cotton imported from Egypt, Salauddin surely would've asked for the reason because he would suspect that Baldwin is planning to use it for military strategy or attack. But you know Baldwin, his dumbass would've spilled to Salauddin, his off field bestie who he confides in about everything, about your periods.
You want to crawl into a hole in ground and die. Right now.
But... you fucked up history, so dying of embarrassment will have to wait.
"Lady Margaret, I need some fresh air so I'll be either taking a walk in the garden or you'll find me in the royal library ." You said, adjusting your clothes in front of the mirror. "Please make sure that neither my maids nor my knights are to follow me. I- I need some time to breathe or I will lose my mind if I feel anyone breathe down my neck about some royal protocol. I'll be back before lunch." You left before she could protest, though you doubt she will when she saw how agitated you were.
You had walked towards the west hall where you were hoping to find that big headed buffoon-
You heard his obnoxious laughter before you saw him.
Guy was standing in the middle of the hall, looking ugly as hell as he smirked at some poor maid struggling to break free from his grasp.
"Oh come on, you wench, give me a kiss-"
"Guy, let her go." Startling him, the maid took the chance and ran off. Guy turned around, glaring when he saw you. "What do you want?" He grumbled, running a hand through his hair frustratedly, looking back to see if the maid was still there or not.
"Quit it." You scolded him, before walking towards an empty room, nodding at him to get in. He grinned as you strode in. "Ah, so you're jealous? Well dont you worry darling, I can give you a kiss to-"
"I would rather burn myself alive and be crucifed than even be rumoured that you dared to touch me with your disgusting paws." You remarked, walking away from him to create distance between you two. "I have a proposal for you that would interest you."
Guy grumbling, sat down on a chair and looked at you expectantly.
"I have a plan to make you king." His eyes went wide.
"I- I- what?!" He stood up. "I dont want- this is treason!" He yelled, pulling out his sword and aiming at you. You stood steadfast, unaffected. "And this isnt? If you kill me, who do you think will end up in the dungeons?" You sighed. "Put it away, Guy, before you embarrass yourself any further."
You began explaining your plan. "You and I both know you were just waiting for Baldwin to roll over and die when he had leprosy. I know you want to be king, and... I can help you with that."
He stared at you, trying to figure out if this is a trap. "I... I deserve to be king. I was promised the throne. Thats why I married Sibylla!" He complained. Honestly, what the fuck does Sibylla see in this piece of cow dung?
Resisting the urge to roll your eyes, you continued. "I agree, thats why we should make an alliance-"
He scoffed. "An alliance? With you?" He said with such disgust, you didnt know whether it was because it was you were a woman, or because you were- well, you. "Why would I need you?"
"Because Guy... you're too dumb to pull this off on your own. No offense." He was offended, so you continued before he could start talking shit again. "Guy, if you become a little open minded for just a few minutes and hear me out, you'll find my proposal very useful." And by some miracle, he stayed quiet and let you present your plan.
When you were finally done explaining, he looked pretty convinced. But of course, he would rather stab himself than admit that outloud.
"Your plan... can work, but it'll take an awful lot of time." He said.
You leaned against the wall, and crossed your arms. "Good things comes to those who wait."
"I still think we should do it my way." You rolled your eyes at his insistence. "Guy, do you know how stupid it sounds when you suggest that we lock Baldwin in a room full of lepers? He cant get leprosy again."
"Well, why not?!"
"Because I cured him." He scowled at your answer. "What about measles? Or yellow fever-"
"Baldwin cant get sick. Ever." Well, technically he could get sick but its highly unlikely because the medicinal vial he drank when you gave him your water had all the vaccines in it, so Baldwin's immunity is pretty invincible right now. You sighed, rubbing your temples. "Look, if we follow my plan, then Baldwin will die a hero, no one will suspect you of anything, and you still get to be king!"
He seemed to contemplate for a moment before narrowing his eyes at you. "And what do you get out of it?"
"Freedom." Guy scoffed. "You want freedom over being Queen of Jerusalem, the Holy Land? Do you think I'm stupid?!"
"Those are two different questions. But yes, to both." You smirked as he got mad. "Okay fine. I'm doing this for... revenge."
"Revenge?" You nodded. "I love someone else, and Baldwin doesnt love me either. He only wants me because of my "healing abilities." You lied, but this is the only way to convince Guy. "So what do you say? Are we in an understanding?" You asked him.
Guy smirked, nodding.
-
You were on your way towards your chambers when you saw her again.
Her. The woman who kissed Baldwin.
The raven haired lady was leaving her room and hadnt noticed you standing at the end of the corridor. She pulled her hood up, looking around hastily before leaving towards the East wing of the castle.
Where Baldwin resided.
You had no reason to, but before you could stop yourself, you were entering her room.
Might as well check the place where Baldwin's been hiding his lover all this time.
It was an average sized room, nowhere near as lavish as your or Baldwin's was, but still better than what some of his royal guests would get. You walked towards her bed, sitting down as a sharp cramp hit you.
You groaned, holding your stomach as you buckled over and thats when you caught sight of a small box under the bed. You pulled it out and took of the lid. It contained letters. Many letters from different people, but mostly from Baldwin.
You looked at the dates- they've been in contact for years.
Your finger traced over her name.
"Charlotte." Huh. Sounds a lot like harlot-
You shook your head. You cant stay here for too long, dont want "Charlotte" walking in on you snooping. Since these letters were arranged according to dates, you picked a couple on the bottom, to read later and see what Baldwin has been upto after announcing his engagement.
Pocketing them in your dress, you turned to leave, opening the door only to come face-to-face with her.
She was startled, before looking confused as to who you were.
Of course, she doesnt know you. While you were trying to come up with an excuse, Charlotte's eyes fell on the huge diamond ring on your finger, and she let out a small gasp of realisation and immediately dropped into a graceful courtesy.
"Your Majesty! I'm sorry I didn't recognise you before!" Alright, maybe the ball can be in your court.
You flicked your wrist to signal her to rise. "That's quite alright..."
"Charlotte." She replied. You hummed. "Right. I apologise, I didnt know this was your room. I was just trying to find the library."
"Oh thats on the other side of the castle, in the North wing!" She said cheerfully, your eyes falling on that dimpled smile of hers.
"Hm, you seem to know a lot about the castle." You remarked, a little bitterly.
But perhaps Charlotte didnt catch on. "Oh yes! I spent a lot of time here as a child. My father used to work for the late king." She explained. You continued to study her face, that fair complexion, blemish free skin, rosy cheeks, and hazel eyes adorned with luscious lashes.
"Ah, so you must be close with King Baldwin." You finally said, and you didnt fail to catch the momentary shock in her eyes before she composed herself.
Busted.
"I- hahaha, um, no. We used to play sometimes when we were young, but then the late king passed away, and King Baldwin had to take up new duties." She chuckled nervously.
You sighed dramatically. "Pity. You seem like a lovely gal." Charlotte's eyes widened slightly. "Heavy is the head that wears the crown, I guess." You mumbled as you moved past her.
"Y-your Majesty!" She called out from behind you. You looked at her nervous face as she bit her lip, trying to come up with the words.
"Yes?"
"I- I need your help." She gulped. "King Baldwin-"
"Y/N!" You whipped your head around to find Baldwin at the other end of the hall, marching over towards you two. His pace was fast and... somewhat angry.
He came to a halt, taking your face in his hands before kissing your forehead hard. "I've been looking for you everywhere, princess!" He hugged you, pulling your head into his chest. "You had me so worried!"
While your head was shoved against his chest, you managed to catch a glimpse of Charlotte looking at Baldwin with desperation, and tears welling up in her eyes. After a little struggle, you finally managed to push yourself away from Baldwin, but he immediately took ahold of your arms, not letting you get away from him. Or-
pulling you away from Charlotte.
The lady continued to look at Baldwin with those barely suppressed anguish, but he refused to spare her a glance. Instead, he wrapped his arm around your shoulders and began pushing you in the opposite direction.
"Come on, princess. You need to be in bed resting." He said to you, still not acknowledging her.
"Your Majesty, I need to talk-" Charlotte called out.
"We'll talk later, Lady Charlotte."Baldwin continued to pull you along with him. "Your Majesty-"
"I said- later." He finally looked over his shoulder, and you were astonished to see the mean glare he cast her.
Charlotte finally bowed her head in submission.
As you both reached your room, Baldwin seemed to finally return to his usual self. "Oh princess, I just felt like my heart dropped when I was informed you werent in your room! You know the physicians have been emphasising bed rest-"
"What just happened back there, Baldwin?" You cut off his rambling.
"What was what, dear?"
"Baldwin." Your tone turned dead serious. "Why did you pull me away from her? What was Charlotte going to tell me?"
He looked into your eyes, and you could see the gears turning in his head. "Do not lie to me, Baldwin." You warned.
His gaze turned sharp. "I just didnt want you to listen to anything she had to say." He sat on your bed, leaning forward as he clasped his hands. "She's... not in the right state of mind."
Ah. So she's "crazy".
"Why is she not in the right mind? And why is she here then?" You demanded answers.
Baldwin sighed, rubbing his temples. "You should not be burdened with that. I am... handling it." He got up, taking your hands in his. "Just trust me, princess. I am doing this to protect you."
Fuck. That.
You wanted to backhand him so bad, but you also did not want your head chopped off. Seriously though... the nerve men have. To not only frame Charlotte as being "off her meds" but also basically admit to cheating because he's doing this to "protect you", what kind of bullshit is that?
But alas, your time machine was still not fixed and if the most
"pious" man could be cheating on you with a smile plastered on his face, you didnt think any other man of this era would fair any better.
So you played the fool.
"Of course I trust you, Baldwin." You let him kiss your hairline sweetly, though you felt anything but.
-
It didn't surprise you the next day when you tried to look for Lady Charlotte, only to be told that she left the day before, in the dead of the night.
Baldwin couldnt be looking anymore guilty than he is at the moments. Seriously, kicking out your lover the day your fiancee finds out about her existence?
You scoffed. He can do whatever the hell he wants, you're going to be leaving for Egypt soon anyways.
Returning to your room, you decided to read the letters that you had stole from Charlotte's room yesterday.
The 4 letters you had managed to take, all were from Baldwin detailing that he would "help her" and "cares for her still", etc. However, the last letter, the latest one, dated to almost 10 days ago, the same time you were away in Egypt, told Charlotte that he had been cured of leprosy, and would be soon able to get her the "cure" too. But this letter, it was signed off as "King Baldwin IV" and not "Baldwin" as in other letters.
All the previous letters, all of them were months old, or at the very least, they were all written before he announced his engagement. Which meant that for more than a month now, Baldwin hadnt written to her, kind of surprising, since he wrote to her- according to the dates, at least every two weeks. So why hadnt he wrote to her after deciding to marry you? He never mentioned you to her before-
You looked up in realisation. Did... did Baldwin plan to use you as a universal "cure"? You exhaled sharply in disbelief. No, no way. Baldwin doesnt actually believe in all that religious mumbo jumbo about you being an "angel sent by God who has magic healing powers". But-
Your heart sank. Of course, he does. Thats why he's making that "royal body of physicians", the best from around the world, to study you. He never wanted to study the female body to help your period cramps! He's gonna use you as a fucking lab rat to make himself and his people invincible! He wants you to cure them all!
What happens- what happens when he realises that I cant cure anyone? What's he going to do to me?
Your throat ran dry at the silent answer. You've read about medieval torture. They're brutal.
You heard footsteps coming towards your room, so you quickly his your letters and tried to look normal again.
"Princess?" Baldwin knocked before entering, not waiting for your permission. He beamed as he looked at you, walking upto you to kiss your cheek, but frowned immediately. "Princess, you're sweating. Are you okay?"
You wiped the cold sweat quickly. Nodding at him, you changed the subject. "Where are you going?" You asked, looking at his clothes.
"Oh! I'm going hunting! Its been a while, and I read somewhere that bone marrow is very nutritious for the body, so I'm going to hunt some animals for you." He explained ecstatically before grinning at you as he leaned down to your level. "But since its been so long since I last went hunting, I decided I needed some good luck. So... princess, will you bless me with some luck?"
"W-what?" You stammered out at the proximity. He turned his cheek, glancing at you expectantly. Oh, he cant be serious.
"Do you want your king, your soon-to-be husband to die?" He teased, but at the same time, you knew he wouldnt leave until you did what he wanted.
Swallowing thickly, you leaned in slowly and gave him a quick peck on his cheek, right where his dimple appeared when you did. Immediately, he turned face back to you and grabbed your head to steady and planted a wet kiss on your forehead.
"My luckiest charm!" He chuckled, pinching your nose as your flushed. "I'll be back before dinner!" He said on his way out.
-
3 hours later, you had finally decided to leave. You cant wait until another week and who knows if Baldwin will even let you leave then? What if he figures out that there is no family in Egypt for you and decides to lock you away in the dungeons to be experimented on?
Ironic how you as a scientist will now be a guinea pig for medieval era "scientists".
You had sneaked out of your room without anyone noticing, a feat in itself since the place is crawling with knights and servants.
But of course, Baldwin would've made sure there was at least one person tailing your every move.
"Princess Y/n?" The knight commander of your security detail called out. What were the odds of him leaving his post at the front of the castle, to walk in on you mounting a horse in the stables at the back of this castle? "Where are you going? His Majesty told me that you would be resting in your room today."
You blinked at him, trying to come up with an excuse. "I- I-"
He looked at you with even more concern, however that would start turning into suspicion soon if you don't answer him soon.
"Chapel!" You blurted out. "I- I am going to the royal chapel... to uh- isolate myself."
"Isolate?"
"Y-yes, because of my- um flow. I do not want to risk his majesty or- anyone getting sick because of me." The knight commander seemed satisfied with your explanation. He nodded, signalling a couple of other knights his way. "Very well, princess. Let these knights accompany you to the chapel, and they will keep guard while you isolate yourself inside."
You know he wouldnt let you go without knights, so you dont argue. Besides, the royal chapel is huge. You're sure you can sneak out of there unnoticed by these knights.
-
At the chapel, you waited until it was dark and the last of the church staff had taken their leave. You had found a small window to squeeze through, but just then, one of the knights knocked on the door of your chapel.
You didnt answer at first, hoping that they'd think you were asleep and dont disturb you again. However, they knocked again, this time with more persistence.
Grumbling, you returned to your bed and messed up your hair, pretending like you just woke up.
"Yes?"
The knight barged in, looking spooked. "A-apologies for waking you up, princess but-! But his majesty-!" You got up from your bed, brows furrowing.
"His Majesty has been injured during the hunt!" He stammered out.
Your eyes widened. Baldwin got injured? The knight began ushering you out of the chapel. "We must return to palace now! Its not safe!"
"What? Why?" You stopped him from helping you mount your horse. He looked at the other knights who were all on high alert as they kept looking around.
"The king was shot by an arrow!"
-
You were now back at the castle, against your will, so running away will have to wait. You were going to go to your room, but the knight commander ushered you towards Baldwin's.
"Why am I going there?" You asked as he escorted you.
"The king is injured." He replied. "So? Fetch the physicians."
"I did." He stopped to look at you. "But His Majesty has refused them from helping. He asked for you specially."
Oh no. Is he- is he going to make you "heal" him again? But you dont have any of your medicinal potions anymore. So when he realises you cant heal him-
You stood in front of his door.
Will he kill me?
You entered the room, spotting him lying on the bed bare chested, with an arrow stuck in his left shoulder blade.
Baldwin's eyes were closed, but his brows were furrowed in pain, sweat glistening from his entire body.
As you walked near, you spotted the bandages and ointments left by the physicians.
"B-Baldwin?" Your voice was so small, heart thumping against your chest as his eyes fluttered open weakly.
"P-princess?" He sounded so frail. Somehow, despite the state he was in, he managed to smile. "You came?"
You nodded. "You asked for me."
"I did. Only you can heal me from this. Only you can save me from death."
Save him?
You had him sit up to inspect the wound. "I-" Your eyes narrowed at the wound, and then at his face.
"Baldwin." He hummed weakly in response. Gritting your teeth, you ripped out the arrow from his shoulder, making him gasp in pain. "What did you do that for?!"
You waved the arrow in his face. "This hadnt penetrated through your shoulder! It wasnt even in that deep!" You threw the arrow to your side. "You werent dying! You're not even close to dying!"
He pouted, rubbing his shoulder where a small hole was. "So? It still hurt. Just bandage me-"
"Why didnt you have the physicians do it for you?!"
"Why would I when I have you? Come on, nurse me back to health, princess." He sighed when you glared at him. "Okay fine. I only called for you because well- you've been very distant with me."
Your nostril flared. "And whose fault is that?" You gritted out before turning to leave.
"Wait, princess-" He called out from behind. You werent going to listen to another word- another lie! Twisting the handle, you opened the door, only for it to be slammed shut by hand coming over you.
"Princess~" Baldwin turned you around, pushing you against the door as he locked it. "You arent going anywhere until we clear this out."
You pushed him away. "I dont want to clear it out." Baldwin's brows rose at your harsh tone. You turned around to leave again but Baldwin grabbed your wrist, tugging you to his chest.
"Y/n." His eyes pierced through you. "Why are you acting like this?"
You didnt answer. "Let me go, Baldwin." "No. Answer me-" "Let me go, Baldwin." "Princess, youre being unfair to me. What did I do to deserve such harshness from the one person I love the most-"
"You kissed Charlotte."
The color drained from his face, and the shock of being caught made him release your wrist. "Did Charlotte tell you this?"
Before either of you could react, you slapped him. Baldwin stared at you in shock, holding his cheek. You just slapped a king- the king of the HOLY LAND, but you honestly couldnt bring yourself to care about the conseuquences of your actions.
You backed away from him as tears pooled into your eyes. "You arent even denying it. You kissed her."
"Charlotte kissed me-"
"But you didnt push her back!" You screamed, tears finally flowing free. "I saw it- I fucking saw it, Baldwin!"
"Y/n listen to me-"
"If you loved Charlotte, if you planned on getting back with her, why did you propose to me?! I never wanted to marry you, Baldwin, so why did you lead me on?!"
"Thats not true! Just listen-"
"As if fooling around my back wasnt enough, you let her stay inside the castle even after I had returned! I mean I get you didnt think you would ever get to do it due to leprosy, but how desperate did you have to be to bed her while I was still in the castle?!"
"ENOUGH!" He roared, face red from rage. "You will calm down right now, or I will make you calm down!"
You looked at him betrayed and hurt, as Baldwin closed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his his nose, taking deep breaths to collect himself.
"You've accused me of something. I deserve to explain myself." He stated.
"Charlotte and I were engaged when we were just children. Her father used to work for my father, as a knight. When he was on his deathbed due to getting wounded gravely when he saved my father, he made me promise that I would always take care of Charlotte." He paused before continuing. "When I found out I had leprosy, I broke off our engagement and when she came of age, I found her a suitable noble to marry. Eventually, they had a son. Her husband... he eventually lost all of his land and money in a gamble. So I tried to help Charlotte financially over the years, because I was the one who found her this man. She didnt deserve to be married to such man."
He recalled the events. "One day, Charlotte wrote to me that her husband had fallen sick. Terribly so. He kept on coughing and coughing until he began hacking up blood. My physicians told me that he had pthisis as the Greeks call it, or "consumption."
You remember studying about medival diseases- one of which was "consumption". Or in modern day- "Tuberculosis."
"I tried to help out, but there was no cure. The man died a slow and painful death. Charlotte loved her husband, despite all his faults, so his death did take a toll on her mentally. I continued to support her, but there was only so much I could do as a leper king. Things seemed to be going well until last year, when her son fell sick. The physicians said he was suffering with consumption as well, but it was still in the early stages so they had hope they could treat it. They took his son with them to the infirmary in Byzantine, where the best possible care would be provided for him. I made sure of it." He sighed. "But the odds were not in his favour. I got a letter from the head physician that Charlotte's son would not survive the winter. Charlotte was there with her son, day and night, she'd never leave his side. The physicians told her about her son's life expectancy. As expected, she was devastated, but at least now she could prepare herself and spend the rest of his days together."
"Then I announced our engagement, and I didnt write to Charlotte because I didnt think it would be appropriate to share this news with her at such a pivotal time. However, news must've reached her about my leprosy being cured and before I knew it, she was here. You were still in Egypt when Charlotte came, and she wanted to meet you. At first I thought it was because she wanted to congratulate you, but I found out that it was because she-" Baldwin shook his head, before looking right at you. "She thought you could cure her son."
"What? Why would she-" Of course, everyone thinks youre made of magic because of Baldwin.
"That's not the worst part. Charlotte's son was already dead before she had even reached Jerusalem. The physician informed me of his death, and that he had warned Charlotte of it too, but she still came here instead of being with her son."
You narrowed your eyes at him. "She came here because you asked her to-"
"I didnt! Why would I do that? Especially when you werent even here to help her?" Baldwin took a deep breath before continuing on. "When I informed her of her son's death- She lost it. She lost herself. I just- I promised to take care of her, Y/n."
"So you kissed her? To make her fall in love with you? Was that the plan?"
"I didnt kiss her, she kissed me!" Baldwin gritted out. "Even after her son's death, she wanted to meet you so that you could bring her son back to life. No matter how much I explained that it isnt possible to bring him back, she wouldnt listen. I told her that you're not some sort of witch that cast a spell to cure me-"
"So why did she kiss you?" You cut him off.
Baldwin licked his lips. "Charlotte knew the story of how you cured me. She figured that if she cant get you, then she can have me help her. In her head, she thought that since I drank your water that had your saliva, I had your essence- your healing abilities in me. So, she kissed me."
He could see the realisation dawning on you. Charlotte kissed him to get your "healing power"?
"I didnt push her back- because I was surprised. And then I pitied her. I didnt know how to break it to her again that nothing can bring her son back. That she was all alone now. Because of me. I had her marry that man, who got consumption, and then his son contracted it as well. I am the reason for her losing everything!" His eyes twinkled with tears, but he didnt let one tear slip.
Wait a minute. If Baldwin knew her son was dying and didnt call her here, then-
You closed your eyes. Fucking Guy.
Of course, only he'd be the one to address the letter as "King Baldwin IV". And you already figured out why he called Charlotte.
"We can kill Baldwin by making him sick again" Guy thought that Charlotte would bring her son, or at the very least bring a series of diseases from the Byzantine infirmary to infect Baldwin with.
Fucking idiot.
Baldwin took your hands in his. "Princess, I never cheated on you. I know I should've told you about Charlotte but... I didnt want to burden you. You already are busy trying to find your family and when you returned, you were tired and then you had your flow. I just- I didnt want to pile up more stuff on you." His hand cupped your cheek tenderly. "You know that I love you. You know that my affection for you is real. Thats why it hurt you so much when saw you her kissing me, because deep down, you knew I wouldn't betray you like this."
His blue were firm as he spoke the next words with conviction.
"You are the beginning of my soul. And you are the end of it."
Tears slipped down your face as you felt him kiss your forehead before wrapping you in his arms, continuing to kiss your forehead again and again.
Finally, you wrapped your arms around him, nodding. Accepting.
Sniffling, you pulled away before tugging him to sit on the bed as you began bandaging his shoulder. Fortunately, the wound wasnt too deep, so you didnt need to introduce "sutures" to medieval era.
Baldwin smiled softly as you tied his bandage, taking your hand and pressing a kiss on top of it. "I'm all better now." You smiled sadly.
"What?" He asked you. You sniffled again. "Princess, what is it?" He pulled you to sit on his lap, tapping your chin.
"I slapped you." You reminded him.
He nodded. "I remember."
"I'm sorry." "I know." He smiled assuringly. Honestly, you were so overcome with emotion that you hadnt realised the risk you took. Baldwin could've easily had your head chopped off at the offence.
"You're not mad?" You whispered, peeking at him from your lashes. He hummed thoughtfully. "No, not mad. I am hurt by your lack of trust me in though, but I take half the blame in this as you did see someone kissing me." He grinned at you. "I do know how you can make it up to me though."
You raised a brow.
"How about... you and I..." he tipped your chin to meet his eyes as he leaned close. "... cuddle tonight?"
"You want cuddles?" You asked, lips quirking at his childishness. He nodded excitedly. "Yes. As you know, I am gravely injured, I need all the love and attention from my beloved angel~" You squealed as he pulled you down with him on the mattress, bursting into giggles as he kissed your cheeks again and again.
After 10 minutes or so of you playing with his hair as he dreamily sighed, you suddenly had a question.
"Baldwin?" He hummed. "How did you get an arrow in your shoulder? You went hunting animals with knights."
Baldwin, with his eyes still closed, replied. "If I tell you, you'll get mad."
You tugged at his hair, making him open one eye. "Baldwin~" You warned.
"Fine, fine, I'll tell you." He rested his head on his palm. "Well, since you were being distant to me and the knight commander told me you had housed yourself in the royal chapel under the excuse of "not wanting to make me sick", I figured I need to find a way to make you be close to me..."
Your face dropped at realisation.
"YOU SHOT YOURSELF WITH AN ARROW?!"
He shook his head in disbelief. "No, dont be silly. How would that be even possible?" You sighed in relief.
"I threatened my expert archer to shoot me with an arrow."
-
Sibylla burst through the door as soon as she had heard of her brother's grave injury, only to witness an odd sight:
Baldwin, with his shoulder bandaged, was doing sit-ups in front of Y/n, who was sitting on his bed, glaring at him with angry tears streaming down her face.
"Princess~ I said I'm sorryyyyy" Sibylla giggled, watching her younger sibling whine to you, but he shut up as another tear slipped down your cheek.
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So, thoughts?
None of you guessed that reason for the kiss,did you? I better fucking get all the comments and asks or else I'm wreaking havoc
Part 6 is here!
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bratscave · 26 days
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𝜗𝜚˚⋆ — MY LITTLE PRINCESS !
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includes. dilf! logan x 23! shy? reader, very lightly implied daddy issues, sexual content! (car pussy eating lol)
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You’ve seen Logan here before, countless times, always in that same corner, nursing his drink in solitude. His age should turn you off, it really should but somehow that just got you more intrested, you had been stern on doing something about said-intrest but your fear of talking and interacting with men, held you back.
Tonight, tonight you were going to do it. You were sure of it. With your heart pounding in your chest, you slide off the barstool, your legs feeling a little shaky as you make your way across the room. Each step feels like it takes you all your power, and by the time you reach his table, you’re sure he can hear your heart beating out of your chest.
You pause for a moment, hesitating, before you finally force yourself to speak, "is the seat taken?" your voice was quiet, shaky even, you silently cursed yourself — you had wanted yourself to sound confident, god damn it.
He turns around with a gaze that was so intense, you were sure he was about to fuck you off to go somewhere else, yet he quietly gestured to the seat next to him. You slide into the seat opposite him, your knees brushing logans under the table.
"You're a bit young to be in a place like this," he murmurs, his voice deep and gravelly, carrying the weight of all the years he’s lived. There’s a teasing edge to his tone, but also a hint of concern, like he’s trying to figure out what a girl like you is doing in a place like this, with a man like him.
You feel a blush creeping up your neck, but you force yourself to hold his gaze. "Maybe I like being around… older men." Well not the older men around you, him though, very much so. "I'm not that young." you add on, it was true - since when were people in their mid twenties considered, young?
A scoff slips past his lips at your response, though it did pique his intrest. His thumb circled around the glass of his whiskey, you were sure that was at least the fourth one he had, "Not that young, huh? Then how old are you, princess?"
You practically feel yourself grow hotter at the nickname, on it's own 'princess' sounds so endearing, so loving — but with his rough tone, it got this different edge to it. "23," you mumble, obediently at his question.
Logan repeats your age, let's it slip from his tongue losely, makes it hang around the dimly light bar and between you.
"I wonder what your parents would think, princess. If only they knew where their little girl was right now, and who she was with."
You'd actually think he was somewhat concearned if it wasn't for the almost mocking tone in his voice, not like he was making fun of you moreover like he just found this situation and how you were behaving amusing.
The blush intensifies at his comment, you hated how you reacted to him, how your body did too; you didn't want to come of as to shy or inexperienced. that was not the case, well somewhat. Your absent father, certaintly wouldn't care - your mother, maybe but who'd tell her? "I'm not a little girl," you're grown god damn it.
His smirk only grew as you got increasingly red. It was cute.
"Oh, really? You look like a little girl to me, princess. All shy and flustered just from sitting at the same table as me. Can't even look me in my eyes."
Logan leaned a little closer to you, his tone almost advising, "You look like you need someone to take care of you, princess. Someone older. More experienced. Do your little boytoys not take care of you right, hm?"
It takes all your will power to not run off into the sunset, burry yourself a hole and think about what he said for the rest of your life. You manage to answer quietly, "you sound like you want to be that 'someone'"
"smart girl," he snickered, satisfied with your reply.
"I'll admit, I've been watching you for a while. You come here all the time and drink all by yourself. All alone. Always sitting at the same spot, watching others."
You can feel yourself get wetter at just his words, he had been observing you? The you, who looked at him countless times, sure he was not looking back or cared at that either.
Sooner then your mother would be proud of, you were in his car. Well- you and him were in his backseat. The car smelled old, looked old too but you didn't have time to make details out as he kept your legs spread for him, rough big hands patting the skin every now and then, to quietly tell you how good you were.
His tongue was way to busy to talk, licking and sucking with a precision that was applaudible. You couldn’t believe this was happening. Just hours ago, you were too shy to even speak to him, and now here you were, half-naked in the backseat of his car, your body squirming around.
He wasn’t gentle — Logan was thorough, relentless, like he had something to prove. And maybe he did, maybe he wanted to show you exactly what you’d been missing, what it was like to be with a man who knew exactly what he was doing. His stubble scratched against your sensitive skin, adding to the rawness of the experience, making it feel more real.
He was so broad, taking up most of the space in that damn backseat and he was hungry. starved, or at least he ate you out like he was.
Logan would make sure that, for the next few days, you’d feel him in every corner of your body. You would ache, throb in all the right places — all because of him.
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maiko-san · 8 months
Text
Catnap + Dogday x Reader ( Part 3 )
<<< Part 2 , Part 4 >>>
Relationship: Fluff
Warning : Hurt/comfort
Character focused : Catnap, Fem! Reader
Plot : Even though you manage to win Catnap's favour through treats
A/n : As a reminder, Catnap is Theo who is a 7 year old child during this period. He's the youngest out of all Smiling Critters in my headcanon since he was the last smiling critter to be shown by MOB!
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"Here's your treat for the day! You did even better than before, I'm proud of you!"
Catnap has been doing quite well recently. Giving him rewards after he did his job does the trick pretty well.
Guess one way to someone's heart is through food was a thing after all.
Catnap sits there as he stares at the food you've given him.
You were busy looking through your clipboard to even notice that the feline hasn't left his spot.
Catnap always questioned himself, why do you care about him?
Almost all the staff here ignore him completely as if he never exists, except you.
He is considered as a troublesome mascot to deal with, even before he was Catnap.
Just why....?
Why do you waste your time on him when you can focus on other mascots?
Catnap likes how you treated him. You were gentle as the others had said.
You finally notice the purple feline hasn't left the room, usually Catnap would slip away immediately after he gets his treat and eat it somewhere else.
"Is there anything else I can help you with?"
"...."
Catnap only looks down on you with those beady white eyes, before tilting his head slightly.
The feline mascots got on all four without breaking eye contact with you, he leans his face close to you and says.
"Why?"
"Pardon?"
"Why do....you care about me.......?"
You quirk an eyebrow at his questions, yes his file did said he was troublesome but why did he ask such a question?
"It's simple, it's my job to take care of each one of you. Not only just that, I want to be your friend!"
"You....want to be my...friend?"
"Yeah!"
The only close friend he had was Dogday and The Prototype, he wasn't that close to the other Smiling Critters since they rarely interact with him.
But the idea of having a new friend makes him happy.
He has a new friend. Catnap picks you up by surprise and holds you high up in the air.
Your body went stiff as you cling onto the mascot's paws for dear life. You weren't used to being picked up by the mascots yet. You're 20 ft in the air!
"You are my friend now...."
Catnap said with a wide smile on his face with his tail standing up straight behind him.
He feels very happy!
From that day, Catnap would sneak around to see you and to cuddle with you.
Every time you scratch under his chin, the feline would purr very loudly and you swore that it would cause the entire office to shake.
Sometimes Catnap would be a menace and push things off the desk just to mess with you.
There is one time you decide to play peek-a-boo with the feline mascot, which turns out to be horrifying and Catnap would get closer every time you take a peek.
But it was a fun game.
Catnap mostly spends his day in your office, with him curling around your desk and has his tail wrapped around your leg, so you couldn't go anywhere while he's asleep.
"Catnap...I need to go to the bathroom..."
"....."
"Catnap, please"
Don't get you started when you caught him trying to fit himself in a small box. It was hilarious and cute at the same time.
Like Dogday said, Catnap is a friendly and sweet cat.
Seeing how he acts around you reminds you of your days in the orphanage. Yes, you were once an orphan, seeing these smiling critters reminded you of the younger orphans that you used to take care of. The way they act brings up old memories in your mind.
You wish to see them but the orphanage you once lived in no longer exists due to financial problems just a year after you were dismissed.
The residents around the place told you that they were moved to someplace else, which the location remained unknown.
You hoped that they were able to find a perfect home and have loving families.
TIMESKIP
You're looking through the files, you have done with all the Smiling Critters except for Catnap....
Your supervisor doesn't let you check on him for a reason.
In his file, Catnap is stated as 'Dangerous' and only a high-class personnel is able to do a maintenance check on him.
You always wonder why though....
They would bring him somewhere and return him to the playcare a week later, he would come back looking exhausted and malnourished.
His fur isn't as soft as the other critters, it was rough and matted, sometimes you could smell the scent of burned....flesh on him and also a hint of blood too.
Also, Catnap always has new wounds on his body. Especially his wrists and chest area, like he was prodded by something. Which worries you a lot, what did the higher ups have done to him?
Once the playcare is closed down for the night, you sneak into his hidden room so you could give him a proper treatment.
"It's alright, just rest as much as you can"
"It hurts..."
"I know, I'll do as much as I can to make the pain stop. I-I'm sorry that I couldn't do anything to help you, I wish I could've done more...."
It was heart wrenching to see Catnap this way, his head is huddled close to your body as he seeks comfort in your embrace.
The sound of his weak purr was the only thing that fills the silence in the small room.
After 6 months working for the Playcare you came to realize that these smiling critters are able to bleed....
Pickypiggy cut herself up when she was using the knife during one of her cooking sessions on her stage. Poor Picky bleeds a lot from the cut and you had to stitch her up and bandage her wound.
You had a suspicition that the higher ups are hiding something, something sinister and dark. You had asked some of your coworkers/seniors about it but they just dismissed you.
Saying that you grew TOO attached to these mascots and start to see them as real people.
The sudden shift of Catnap brings you out from your deep thoughts.
"Can you sing me....a lullaby, my star....."
"Of course"
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A/n : I added a little of Reader's lore here :D. Thank you for enjoying the chapters so far!
I have a headcanon for the smiling critters which is—
That they don't remember about their previous lives as a human until 'The Hour of Joy' happens, the only Smiling Critters that are aware of it is Catnap/Theo himself.
So, after 'The Hour of Joy' happens, the smiling critters start to remember their past lives and from the moment they become more aware of their existence and barely clinging on the last bit of sanity they have left.
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writersdrug · 5 months
Text
Training for Two
Chapter 2. Rules
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Masterlist
Summary: Simon lays the ground rules and shows you around the house.
Warnings: Simon's email etiquette, very mild cursing, beginnings of obsessive behavior.
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Sure enough, Simon had emailed you by Tuesday afternoon. You noticed how... unprofessional it was. Not that he had been rude or obscene, but it was obviously written by someone who never had to write many emails for his career.
here is riley's routine. she likes walks, usually 3 or 4 a day. she eats one scoop in the morning and one at night. she doesn't finish her food all at once, but she'll come back to it. if you're gonna give her more cookies, just two per day. fill water every morning. around the house, if you could just dust and clean up any dog hair, that would be great. let me know if meeting me tomorrow at 0900 for the key works. I ship out thursday. thanks.
Simon.
You chewed your thumb nail, reclining on your couch with a confused expression. Was he irritated with you for some reason? He didn't show it at the interview if he did have any hostile feelings... you reminded yourself that he was a rather gruff man, and maybe that just bled into his written words, too. You rolled your shoulders and started working out your reply.
Hello Simon! Tomorrow works perfect for me, I'll be there by 9 am!
Does Riley have any favorite places she likes to go? Any particular spots or trails she enjoys? Also, are there any rules you have for her, like being on the couch? Is she ok going to the dog park? Lastly, does she take any medications I should be aware of?
See you soon!
You sent the message, sighing and dropping your head back against the arm of the sofa. You were honestly thankful that you'd gotten the job, even if Simon was a rather stiff client. You finally quit your shitty job, and while you did still have babysitting your niece and nephew, you never charged for that - the only time you were "paid" for it was when you took them out somewhere fun, and your sister forced you to accept money for the admission fee.
So this gig fell into your lap at the perfect time. And the fact that you had beat every other person Simon had interviewed made your ego soar. It wouldn't be a bad idea to make a career out of this, you thought.
Your phone dinged - you held it above your face, and saw that Simon had already responded. You sat upright and opened the email.
she only takes aspirin when her leg flares up. no more than twice a day. no favorite trails, we just go around the block a few times. she can sit on the couch, my bed too, but she'll need help getting up. no human food is the only other rule. never took her to a dog park, but if you really want to, that's fine. she's good with other dogs.
Simon.
You frowned. Walking the same block every day, multiple times each day, sounded awful. It wasn't even close to animal neglect, but you couldn't imagine walking the same route every single time. If it didn't drive Riley insane, it certainly would for you.
You read back over the email, your eyes lingering on "if her legs flare up." Simon had never discussed Riley having arthritis with you - and you sincerely hoped that was the reason she had leg pain, and nothing else. You made a mental note to ask him about it tomorrow as you began to write your reply.
Understood. Thanks again!
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"Here's the basement." Simon said, leading you down the stairs and into a dullish room. It had a cheaply-manufactured desk, what appeared to be a dining chair (not matching the dining set upstairs), a stuffed bookshelf, and some cardboard boxes filled with paper. A fan stood in the far corner, and next to it was the washing room. Much like what he had shown you of the rest of the house, it was bland and drab.
You looked around, letting out a polite noise of approval. Truth be told, Simon's life seemed awfully boring to you. Your mother had always told you that military men were always overly practical, in more than just home decor. They never cared much for the environment around them, as long as there was no mold, or anything similar. But you had never expected it to be so brutally true.
You knew he had a life outside of his home - from the way he described it, he was usually deployed more often than he was in his own home country. But you wondered - what did he do for fun, besides watch the telly? Did he have friends, and were they all like him? Any hobbies?
"If for whatever reason y' need to clean up a stain, you can find solution in there." He said, pointing to the washer room. "Other than that, nothin' much to see down 'ere."
You followed him as he trudged back up the stairs. Riley was sat upright on the floor, watching you and Simon move about the house with an observant expression.
"The only other things I'll ask you to do is hoover n' dust when it looks like it needs it." He said, leaning against the kitchen counter. "There really isn't much else t' do; of course, if you do see anything that needs fixin' you can always text me." He rolled his head from side to side, wincing as he worked out a crick in his neck. "Might not answer immediately, but I'll see it."
You nodded, standing in the walkway of the kitchen. Even with him leaning against the counter, muscles hidden under his sweatshirt, he was huge. For a brief moment, you imagined what he looked like on the field, dressed in his uniform and holding a gun - but you quickly shooed the thought from your mind before it had the chance to latch on and fester. "Gotcha. And just so I know, do you let Riley sleep with you?"
Simon paused in confusion before he responded. "Come again?"
"Like- you know, if I crash on the couch, is she allowed up with me?" You said, shifting your weight. You couldn't quite tell if Simon was irked by your question, or if he was genuinely confused.
He paused again. "Uh, yea, that's fine. If y' don't mind waking up covered in 'er slobber."
You laughed. "Nah, I'm used to it. A little drool never bothered me. Although, if I do need to wash up, am I alright to use the shower? Or would you rather I use my own back at my flat?"
Suddenly, it clicked in Simon's head. You were planning on sleeping at his house.
He had assumed you would just stop by for walks and meals - he didn't expect you to actually live here while he was gone, and he wasn't sure how it made him feel. He'd never had anyone else spend the night. Hell, no one ever visited, besides the rare occasions of the rest of the 141 stopping by. Even then, they never stayed for longer than a conversation or two.
But, once he took a second to think about it, he realized it might be better if you did stay - at least, while he was on missions. Riley would be bored out of her mind if she was alone that long, especially after spending the past several weeks with Simon constantly there. It would be good for someone to be there when he wasn't, and you seemed like you would be the best person for that, of course.
"Sure, 's fine." He said, rubbing the back of his head. "Just don't touch my shit in there."
"Don't worry about that..." You said quietly, "catch me dead and cold before I touch a 3-in-1 anything."
He chuckled and rolled his eyes. It was refreshing that you could handle his gruffness - most people treated him like a landmine, never wanting to say the wrong thing and set him off. You seemed to have taken life by the horns, like you weren't afraid to bite back at someone. He wondered if that was all for show, or if you really would snap back if he was to test you...
He pushed himself off the counter and reached into the drawer behind him, pulling out a spare key. He walked over to you and held it out. You were just about to take it, when he suddenly yanked it back.
You faltered. "Sorry...?"
"You lose this key..." Simon began lowly, "n' I'll frame you for murder. Understood?"
You gaped, mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. He didn't really mean that... did he? You waited for him to laugh and say he was just joking... but he never did. His eyes bored into yours so intensely, making you shiver, as he waited for you to answer.
"Y-yes, sir. Understood." You said, voice wavering a bit.
He grunted in satisfaction, then handed you the key. You let out the breath you had been holding, then cautiously took the key, before immediately attaching it to your lanyard. You didn't want to take any chances at losing it - not after Simon's threat. You took a deep breath and smiled at him, trying to dust the exchange off of your shoulders.
"You can come 'round tomorrow after o' nine hundred, I'll be out by then." He said, turning sideways to moce past you and heading towards the door. You followed behind and rubbed Riley's head when you passed her; she let out a contented sound.
"Feel free t' use the kitchen if you'll be stayin' overnight." He opened the door for you and leaned against it.
"Will do, thank you!" You chirped, hovering on the landing outside of his house, right were you were two days ago. "Thank you for showing me around - good luck on your- mission- deployment, thingamajig!"
He huffed. "Promise I will, luv."
Your spine tingled in response to his comment. Get it together, don't get your knickers in a twist over a client. You thought. You straightened your posture and cleared your throat.
"Well, see you around!" You said with a smile, then hopped down the steps to your car.
Simon waved, taking a moment to watch you pull out of his driveway. He shut the door and leaned back against it, exhaling slowly through his nostrils.
He was an observant man - he had to be, with his occupation. Your reaction to being called "luv" didn't fly over his head. And it's not like Simon didn't know the effect he had on women... he knew how he looked, how he presented himself, and he saw the reactions it got him.
But with you, something felt different. He saw your reaction, and a part of him wanted to chase after it. To see what you would do if he continued to apply pressure to your weak spots. Would you blush? Would you call him out? Would you drop the gig altogether?
He thought about how easily the word "sir" had rolled off of your tongue. He thought about how you would look, all tuckered out on his couch, donned in whatever pajamas you decided to wear, your face peaceful and expression soft as you slept - he imagined you in his shower, the room filled with warm steam and the scent of your shampoo, water hitting your skin as you-
Riley barked, making Simon jolt where he stood. She stared at him, ears turned to the side as she whined. She could always tell when he began to dissociate, and knew just as much as he did that it wasn't a good sign.
Simon sighed, running a hand down his face. "Get it together, fuckin' creep." He muttered to himself. "I need a bloody hobby, f' Christ's sake..."
He blamed it on the upcoming mission. He would typically stress about it beforehand, and if there was anything else that could occupy his mind, he would fixate on it. Right now, unfortunately, you were the victim. But he buried it deep down into his subconscious - it wasn't fair to you.
He pushed himself off of the door and headed towards the washroom, adjusting his crotch as he went. He figured he should at least tidy it up a bit, since you would be using it. The only other people who had been in there were Johnny and Captain Price, and of course, they never cared if there were trimmers on the counter, or if the mirror had splotches from toothpaste residue.
Hopefully, he'd forget all about you - at least, while he was on the mission.
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Taglist: @my-queen-rhaenyra-targaryen @jisungswiftie @sweet-tooth4you @kennyis-aloser @hyyyxr @lahniu @dory-98 @naradae
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jellyfishrnice · 5 months
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Yandere! Rich suitor idea
Hear me out-
The rich suitor that your parents have in mind for you to marry once you turn 30, the guy who's parents your parents are best friends and how they've been imagining their offspring getting married for decades! And how you absolutely can't stand your unofficial fiance!
Of course, he couldn't stand you either. All your lives grown up together with both your parents insinuating that you two will carry on their names. Each year you two would be sent off to some exotic vacation (your parents loosely supervising) and each year you both failed to hold a conversation without fighting. The pressure was always too much for you, you hated the idea of being tied down to some guy only your parents liked. And no matter how beautiful the boy was, he simply wasn't your type. He was too pretty, too spoiled, too prissy with his blonde hair tied in a ponytail and his stupid eyebrow piercing that made no sense considering his personality.
The guy you were supposed to marry felt the same, he couldn't understand what his parents saw in you. You were too wild, he couldn't imagine trying to carry on a family with how you barely even wanted to do school work. He didn't even consider ugly just so... Weird! With your weird, odd sense of fashion and refusal to think about your future , you were definitely not his type. You two hated each other.
Until the summer you two turned 21. The yearly vacation y'all took started off like any other. With both you dreading the sight of each other. But that changed very quickly once he saw you. This was the first year you two were alone, and maybe it was the fresh alcohol in your systems or the soft lights in whatever high class restaurant you were in, something clicked in your suitor's brain.
Turns out a year (or a couple) can really change the way you see someone. Whether he knew or not he started to admire the way you refused to comply with the strict set of rules set by the high class society you two lived in, and how you didn't care what anyone else thought of your peculiar way of self expression. It was admirable he had to admit.
And the night you two shared an accidental drunken kiss, it made the hair on his arms stand up, it made his face flush red(which he blamed on the liquor), and it made his heart pound in a way he never thought possible.
Every bone chilling reaction was forced out of him and it made his skin light on fire. After that night, he only wanted more to come out of your relationship.
But, the attraction was simply one sided.
You still only saw the same prissy boy. He still refused to look at things from more than one perspective, he still poked fun at your style of clothes, he still refused to say thank you to whatever person who was serving him!
He was everything you hated all wrapped up in one ball of a man.
And when he dropped the idea of getting married the next morning while you were still recovering from your hangover, you almost vomited.
-
"Ew! What the fuck are you talking about?!" You yelled while almost dropping the mug you had in your hand. The guy was just insulting you yesterday like he always does and now he's talking about marriage?
"You act as though marrying me is the worst thing possible." Andrew sighed while sipping on a glass of orange juice. He looked out the nearby window onto the private beach of the resort while leaning on the nearby wall. It didn't show but your response clearly hurt him just a bit.
"'Cuz it is." You groaned in frustration while sitting down on the living room couch. The guy you hate proposing is definitely not helping with your pounding headache.
You took a sip out of the mug of coffee and tried to rub away the ache from your temples. Why now of all times to propose? You two had at least 5 more years of freedom before yours and his parents would put their foot down and set a date for you two to sign the wedding papers.
"I mean- why not now? Its be better sooner than later, it would be like ripping off a bandaid-"
"Hell no." You sighed and set down your mug on the coffee table next to you and dropped your head onto a pillow. How were you going to deal with this?
"Anyway," you paused trying to gather your words, "don't you hate me? Why would you want to tie the knot so soon? I mean, you're an attractive guy right? Why don't you try out other options before having to-"
"I don't want other options."
You lifted your head and stared at Andrew for a second. The pink dusting his fair cheeks and avoidance of eye contact was all you needed to know.
You looked away from his face and stared at the wall behind him. Your head hurts even more than when you had woken up.
"I'm leaving."
"What?"
"I said I'm leaving." You hauled yourself off the couch and into your room. You could hear Andrews faint footsteps and even more of his questions but ignored it. You packed your backpack, only the necessities and a small bag of seashells. You were getting on the next plane and heading back home. Or wherever you could land first.
You were not staying here. You refused to marry. Not yet at least.
But as you try and open the door to leave, a large hand slams it shut before you can completely open it.
"Andrew. What the hell are you doing."
"You are not leaving." Andrew says while placing his other hand against the door, caging you.
You never realized how muscular Andrew was before this moment.
"Yes, I am. Now let go of the door-"
"No." He says in a much firmer tone.
It dawns on you that you're on a private beach with no one to hear you yell for help. You see one of his hands leave the door and for a second you think he's come back to his senses and stopped whatever crazy shit he was thinking- but instead he snaked his hand around your waist and lays his forehead on your shoulder.
"You're not leaving."
-
HEHEHEHE JUST A THOUGHT THOOO
Not proof read forgive me 😔
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barcaatthemoon · 15 days
Text
better off alone || barcelona x teen!reader ||
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the team finds out that your foster parents left.
you were dead meat. jona wasn't there to vouch for you anymore. this season was sure to be your last. barcelona was on the verge of being done with you, and you weren't ready to go somewhere else and start over. having someone there to take care of you in a new city would be easier than your current situation, but you felt like you had found a family in your barcelona teammates.
they cared about you more than anybody else had. you had been bounced around foster homes and care facilities your entire life. this family wasn't good by any means, they had left you all alone after all, but your teammates more than made up for it. you had finally started to feel like a real person, and it was going to be yanked away from you in a matter of moments.
"where the hell have you been? you do know that we have a game later today, yes?" alexia grabbed onto your arm and dragged you inside. you stumbled a little trying to keep up with her. you were nearly an hour late for the pre-game training, but arrived just in time for the team meeting and the warm ups.
"sorry i was late, i tried to get here as fast as i could," you told her. it was the truth, and alexia was mad enough about you being late that she wouldn't pry. that was something you liked about dealing with alexia, her anger often clouded her judgement enough to never look too closely at the small details. she was easy to lie to because she'd generally accept the first excuse you threw her way.
"just go to the locker room, i'm going to talk to your parents," alexia told you. you wordlessly walked to the locker room and changed into your practice kit. you took the first open seat you saw, which was next to irene near the middle. everybody else was filing in as well, so you didn't draw too much attention.
"we missed you this morning," irene said calmly as she put her arm around your shoulders. you instinctively curled into her side. she didn't know the specifics of what you went through at home, but she always made sure to take care of you when she could. most of the team knew how close you were, but only alexia had an issue with it. she believed that irene babied you too much and that's why you were so "irresponsible" in alexia's eyes.
"sorry, i didn't have a ride here," you told her. you always told irene more than you'd ever tell alexia or the other captains. marta was torn between being tough on you like what alexia wanted and caring for you like irene did. you liked her well enough, but you didn't really talk with her much. patri, however, she was the one who you truly avoided whenever you were in a troubling situation. she took alexia's words to heart, and the two of you often butted heads.
"where are your parents?" irene asked.
"it's a long story," you mumbled. irene didn't like that answer and was about to press for more when alexia burst through the doors echoing the same question.
"(y/n), where are your parents!" you winced at the sound of alexia's voice and all of the eyes turning towards the two of you. you tried to turn into irene, but she wouldn't let you. with everybody staring at you and your secret on the verge of being put out into the world, you did what you knew how to do and bolted.
nobody made a move to catch you as they assumed you'd run towards hte exit alexia was blocking. that was how you made your escape, going the long way and making it all the way out of the stadium from the back. you ran until your lungs were burning, and then you ran just a bit further knowing that nobody was going to just leave and chase after you until after the game. you may never get another chance to play for barcelona, but you were on the way out anyway.
"you've got a lot of people scared right now. i know that you're probably also very scared right now, but i need you to come back with me please." of all the people you had expected to find you, olga wasn't very far up on the list. you knew alexia had to have asked her to look for you, but olga didn't know you well enough to know about your special spot.
"how did you find me?" you asked her as you stood up. you were a good few inches taller than the woman, always having been tall for your age. you seemed to still be growing, just half an inch shorter than fridolina.
"alexia gave me her phone, which has your phone's location. i don't know what use it is for her, she can't figure out how it works in the first place," olga laughed. you let her lead you back to the car without running away. "so, um, do you want to talk about what happened?"
"i was late for team stuff again, and it's not like they'll renew me. my contract has been up in the air for months now, and after this, i'm done for. maybe i can go somewhere else, but that's getting put in another home. i can't do that again, so i ran off hoping that nobody would find me," you rambled. olga took everything you were saying in, staying silent as she processed it.
"has anything happened at the home you're in now? alexia mentioned your parents a couple times, but not in a while," olga asked you. she looked like she was working through things in your head.
"they're gone, like for good. apparently, taking care of me wasn't worth the check. i've got too many obligations to keep up with," you repeated their words to olga, whose grip tightened on the steering wheel. the two of you ended up catching the last bit of the game, and olga brought you up to sit with alexia's family.
there were a lot of eyes on you, whispering going on around you because you weren't on the field. when the whistle blew for full time, you were brought down to the field. you tried to hide behind everybody around you, but it was no use. your practice kit stuck out in the sea of normal barcelona jerseys. it made it easy for your teammates to come and find you.
"ale, before you say anything to (y/n), we have to talk," olga said. you were grateful for the woman as your captain was led away. the other captains followed them at alexia's request, and you could see them talking to each other from the corner of your eye.
"don't be so scared of her. ale's not as scary as you think," alba said as she squeezed your hand. "just look at how olga bosses her around."
"they're going to fire me," you mumbled. there were tears in your eyes, ones that all of the people around you had been waiting for you to let go. it was obvious that you were terrified, and most of the people not on the team could see you for the scared little girl that you were.
"relax, go get yourself a drink and sit down," eli told you. her tone was gentle, yet commanding. there was no room for you to disobey the woman, so you grabbed the bottle with your name taped on it and sat down on the grass. nobody had approached you yet, even though you knew that your teammates had seen you. they were all waiting for one of your captains to go over there first.
instead of one of them, you got all of them. they stood around you in a circle, waiting patiently for you to acknowledge them. "i guess you know about my foster parents now."
"we do, and that's why we're giving you options. you can't live on your own, not this young. you are a part of this team, one of us, and we take care of our own. it's not permanent, but you will need to pick one of us to stay with for a couple of weeks while we talk to the club," alexia told you. you looked at the women standing before you.
"i don't understand. aren't you still mad at me for being late?" you asked her. alexia shook her head as she knelt in front of you.
"my anger has been misplaced, and i am sorry about that. i've been harsh on you, and i have been shown the error of my ways. for official purposes, you have to stay with one of us, but after that, other arrangements can be made," alexia promised you. you looked between all of them, overwhelmed with the option to choose.
"does this make me eligible for the norway camp?" you asked as you looked at the signatures on your adoption papers.
"what are you talking about? you're spanish," marta said as she ruffled your hair.
"actually, i'm not. they don't really know where i'm from, i just play in barcelona," you told her. marta's eyes widened as she raced out of the room to call alexia. you glanced at caro, who was trying to hold back a smile. "you aren't going to try and stop her?"
"oh please, we both know that you wouldn't play for another country. you're spanish in all the ways that count." she had a point, even if you'd never tell marta. you thought it was kind of funny watching her and alexia come up with more and more propaganda and bribes to keep you in a spanish kit. soon enough, they'd enlist the rest of your spanish teammates to the cause.
"yeah, but look at her. it's funny," you pointed out. the two of you walked out to the car, just in time to catch marta trying to plot something over the phone. you sat in the back of the car as they took you home, glad to finally have a permanent home with people willing to truly look after you. you weren't just a check to marta and caro, which was a welcome change.
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nightingale-prompts · 15 days
Text
Finding Batboy
First| Previous | Next
Phantom
King
Fenton
Apprentice
Batboy
He just wanted to be Danny. Just Danny, nothing else.
But who was Danny anymore?
Danny was a 14-year-old boy who died in a tragic accident. Danny had a decent life with friends and a sister who he loved. Danny wanted to be an astronaut and loved the stars. Danny had an astrology phase that made him so annoying to everyone but Sam. Danny liked dogs and cats hated him for no reason no matter how much he loved them. Danny wanted to join the robotics club with Tucker. Danny still snuck into his sister's room when he was scared to sleep in her bed.
But Danny is dead. Danny has been dead for years now.
He missed being Danny.
Now he was Phantom.
No past.
No home.
No family.
But if that was true, what did that make Dick?
Just another person that he would have to leave behind. It wouldn't be long. History doesn't repeat but it rhymes. It can't last. It won't.
Danny flew to some abandoned factory located somewhere in Gotham. He hadn't really paid much attention. He just needed a desolate place to land. Somewhere even the ghosts have long abandoned.
Truthfully Danny didn't want to be alone. A part of him felt the urge to find that revenant that he had met. Something that felt familiar to him, someone that could understand.
But right now Danny wanted to rest and he wasn't picky about where. He wrapped his wings in a tight cocoon and plopped on the ground. His sleep was deep, more than he ever remembered having before, except once.
Danny walked through the halls of a spiraling tower that overlooked the Ghost Zone. The tower was decorated with stars and moons. Mist hovered just above the floor creating a icy blue carpet. Ghost sheep napped in corners. The scent of poppy and pine filled the air.
As Danny ascended to the top he met with a familiar face. Nocturne the ghost of dreams. The ghost's thick bridged nose reminded Danny of that of a sheep that matched his curled ramhorns. His red eyes with horizontal pupils reminded him of a demonic ram he had seen in a horror movie once. Danny could practically hear that line again: "Would thou like to live deliciously?"
It still gave Danny chills.
"Please refrain from making such comparisons." Nocturne said, his voice deep but soft at the same time.
Danny had gotten to know Nocturne some time ago. Apparently, he and Clockwork were close. They shared a high rank among ghosts as they were abstract manifestations rather then being that were once living like some. The hierarchy of ghosts was complex, and Nocturne was not someone to look down on.
"Nox, why am I here?" Danny said standing before the seven-foot frame of the amorphous ghost.
"You are spending too much time in the material realm. If you don't get time back in the realm to which you belong you'll go mad. It's already starting to happen. I stole your mind away for a bit to give you a mental break but your body is already starting to break down." Nocturne said waving a finger at him.
"My body and brain are fine Nox." Danny said crossing his arms.
Nocturne picked the boy up with one hand and held him at eye level.
"You are having trouble shifting are you not? Its not coming as easily as it should. The more attached you get to a form without the energy from our world to break it up the worse it will be. The Ghost of Time has already told me of the problem. You must stay here for the time being and recover. It is what's best. Mental weakness is the worst one can suffer and the remedy is sleep." Nocturne's breath smelled like warm milk and cinnamon. It calmed Danny's nerves and made his eyes heavy.
Clockwork had put him up to this. That old man...really was....annoying....Zzzz.
Back in the world of the living and awake mass panic has broken out.
Batboy is currently missing and Nightwing is not handling it well. The entirety of the Gotham Vigilantes team has been notified and is searching the cities of Gotham and Bludhaven.
"Have you searched the docks?" Nightwing asked frantically as he searched every rooftop in the city.
"I'm working on it. Do you really think he's here?" Red Robin said scanning every unit on the lot.
Red Hood didn't know what the BatBoy kid looked like other than the whole wings thing. If his little buddy Phantom could help it would help.
Although they had a slight resemblance Jason could see too many differences when looking at the pictures. Phantom had round ears, and silver hair that moved like fire and looked like a human. Batboy had long sharp ears, claws, pointy teeth, blueish-green skin, wings, and a white fluff around his neck. Clearly, they were different.
Batman searched the dark allies of Gotham as Signal and Orphan split up to cover as much ground as possible. Oracle searched every camera from the past few hours for the boy.
The good news was that Batboy was found. The bad news was who found him.
"Poor little Bluebird lost his fledgling and Batsy is looking for the lost pup. I should let them know that the little guy has been found! Ahahahaha!"
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bunnys-kisses · 18 days
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hi! i was wondering if i could order pull-apart bread, sweet pastry and hot cross buns, with a side of cider and chocolate milk, for sub!max verstappen? nobody really writes anything about the reader body worshiping him and his softer body, which would be nice to reassure him about. id love to hold his love handles 🥹
thank you so much in advance if you’re up for doing this! 💙
bakery menu
submissions to the bakery are open! i'm accepting them all the time, even if they take a little while to get uploaded, i am constantly working on 'em! so thank you! and for this anon! hello!!! this is amazing, what the hell! i feel the same way, folks don't really write about it in fan fics (i've seen posts wax poetically about it though). so yes, this was awesome to write! thank you <333
pull-apart bread ("i love you") + sweet pastry ("i'll make it all better.") + hot cross buns ("don't hide your face from me. i'd hate to have to tie you up.") + cider (body worship) + chocolate milk (tenderness) served by max verstappen (formula one)!!
cw: smut/pwp, sub!max, body worship, tender sex, cowgirl position, bondage, praise kink, dom!reader, insecurities, love & intimacy
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it wasn't that you were going to fight people online over your boyfriend. it was a pointless endeavor to snap back at someone on twitter of all places! especially someone with a lando norris icon. but if you saw one more comment about your boyfriend's body online, you're going to kick something.
you loved max, that was why you were with him. but, you worried about him. underneath everything, there was soft center to him. and sometimes the wrong comment got through all the layers and right to the middle.
it just so happened the comments you hated the most were the ones about his body.
it was near the end of the off-season, you two had come back from a sunny trip to celebrate the time together. it left your poor boyfriend a little more pink than usual. especially around the shoulders, where he was shirtless most of the time.
you loved how he looked regardless. he was immensely strong in ways you couldn't fully grasp. you were always impressed by his ability to pick you up and kiss you. you believed that people had a skewed notion of what "hot" men should be built like. and you blamed it marvel movies and alpha male podcasts. max was not a dehydrated body builder. layered on top of the strength was a certain softness and made at the very least you drool at the sight of.
he was strong, but enjoyed food. he liked his sweets on weekends and a little extra at dinner. it didn't help with the constant weigh-ins and other measurements for formula one. so when you noticed his eyes on another cruel post online in response to a photo of him shirtless. you wanted to take that phone and toss it out the window.
you watched him turn off the screen and put the phone down on his chest. the room felt tense and your fingers went into his short hair. he tried to pull away, but with a tiny bit of force kept him close. you knew what he was thinking. just like everything else, max verstappen had crippling self-doubt.
"max. my love."
"yeah.." he said softly. the self-doubt that followed him like a shadow seemed to encrouch in his mind. you could tell even if you couldn't see his full expression.
you took the phone and placed it on the coffee table. you ran your fingers through his hair and looked down at him. fingers trailed down his jaw. "why don't we forget about that and go to the bedroom. "i'll make it all better."
you were in bed with him soon enough. he left his t-shirt and loose shorts on as your hands roamed his body. your lips on his neck, jaw and face. little unsaid promises of how handsome he was. "don't listen to them."
"what if they're right."
"when has a formula one fan ever been right about anything? you know some people online make ragebait. they're trying to get a rise out of other fans and cause in fighting."
"if i tried a little harder... i could look more like the others."
you made him look at you. his blue eyes seemed sad, like cloudy skies over a rocky shoreline. he couldn't meet your gaze, he was almost embarrassed. "max, look at me."
he made eye contact with you, "i could... if i tried."
you held his face a little tighter as he looked away. you said to him, "max, you are training all the time. you push yourself to limits that could kill many others. you work harder than a work horse with half the pay sometimes." you kissed the bridge of his nose, "i don't know who planted these ideas into your head." you had an idea, two names came to mind that made you frown. that was neither here nor there, "but, i love how you look."
his eyes shifted away from you. embarrassed. this entire thing felt embarrassing. he was insecure like a teenage girl at the moment because some random person online called him a stupid name.
"max. don't hide your face from me. i'd hate to have to tie you up." you said, trying to insert a joke to lighten the mood. you watched his demeanor shift and his eyes meet yours.
"would you.. tie me up? make me forget everything for a little bit?" he asked softly, his words almost tripped over one another. while most would've sought heavy therapy and an early retirement for their issues. max tried to cover them up, and sometimes that meant being your good boy.
"then tell me one thing, max."
"anything." he replied.
"say one nice thing about your appearance. anything. just one thing. and then i'll get what we need.' you promised, sealing it with a kiss on the cheek.
he swallowed, not knowing what to say. he shifted a little in his spot on the bed before he sighed. eventually he responded with, "my nose." he said, eyes on yours, "i like my nose. makes me stand out a little more."
you smiled a little bit and kissed him on the cheek, a gestured he melted into you. you replied, "and i love your nose too. i'm proud of you, max. good boy."
he said, "i love you."
and before you pulled away to get the roped needed for tonight, you said to him, "i love you too." then quickly ran your finger down his nose, "i love you, your nose, those eyes. every last inch of skin. your strength and your softness. it makes you perfect to me and those jealous bitches on twitter can't say anything about it." you broke into a further smile.
max chuckled slightly, he found you language amusing. the internet was troll heaven, but sometimes he needed his guiding light to not get himself sucked into the chaos of his doubts. he watched you pull away from him and get off the bed. he took off his shirt and shorts, he tried not too think too hard, but rather keep his eyes on you.
when you went to the dresser to find what you needed, he propped himself against the rod-iron headboard. usually he didn't like them, but when he discovered his affection for bondage early into your relationship, the headboard was perfect to keep him bound.
you returned to the bed, placing the two pieces of rope down onto the bed before you started to strip out of your clothes. once naked you got into bed with him. your hands roamed his chest and straddled his waist.
"you're so handsome, max. jesus christ. look at you." you smiled down at him. skin so soft, he was just perfect and you couldn't believe it. you rubbed up against him a little more and explored his torso with your hands, you watched him squirm a little under your touch. he shuddered a little. 
  “i'm not that-"
  “max verstappen. shush. i don't want to hear it.” you rubbed up against the bulge in his briefs. you held onto his shoulders a little as you moved. the dry humping felt good and left excitement racing through your lover, “that's it. that's my good boy.” 
he groaned a little, which only go louder when you stopped your movements to grab the ropes. he dropped his wrists to the bed and let you tie them to the bars of the headboard by the mattress. he melted a little against it while you took his cock out of his briefs.  the underwear was off him in no time and you got straddled on his waist with your hands on his shoulders once more.
you eyed him with heavy lust, “i know those idiots say that you're too fat or soft. well, i think they're blind. i think they're a whole bunch of idiots. you are perfect, turn me on every chance you get.” you took his face in your hands and kissed him as you continued to rub up against him. he panted against you when you broke the kiss soon after. 
  words of protest hung on max's tongue, but he never said anything further. this wasn't going to be a thing he could win. no matter what he said, you have a rebuttal. it was a losing battle, so he'd simply have to put his trust into you. if you found him hot beyond words, then you'd have to listen. but the fight was fully gone when you seated yourself onto his cock, then sank down on it to the base. he yanked against the ropes a little bit and found euphoria in the knowledge that you tied the ropes just as he liked them. tightly.
  “planning to fight against them, max?" you asked as you raked your fingers down his pale chest, "you wouldn't do that, would you? because you're my good boy! my handsome good boy. with those dazzling eyes and stunning laugh. when you smile i'm in heaven. especially when yo let me make both of us feel good. 
he shook his head, his cheeks grew hot from your gaze on him. if he was hot, then you were gorgeous. you were an inferno made human. the most beautiful woman he had ever laid his eyes on. the kind of beauty that brought him to his knees. he breathed heavily as the pleasure started to build in the bottom of his gut. his cock twitched a little bit the more you rode him. 
he loved being at your mercy, under your thumb in a sexual manner. he bad so many choices all day, sometimes with only seconds to make them. so it was nice. to be in the comfort of your shared bed and letting you take what you needed from him. to give you total control. to love him, shower him in the praise he desired.  
  “i love you.” you said,
  “i love you too.” 
you started to move faster, really working your hips, making sure you could do as much as you could. you moaned a little bit and felt the stutter in your heart from the heat of everything. you pushed hair out of your face as you continued to ride him. the feeling between you two was electric. you said to him, “you're so handsome. fuck, you're perfect.” you started to move faster.
max bit back a moan but it spilled out when you crashed your lips against him. he almost whimpered from the fast speed. how good you took him. it made him clench his fists to try to compose himself. his chest rose and fell heavily he tensed up a little bit at the throb of lust in his body. you kissed him once more as you went as fast as you could go. you bounced on his cock and your nails dug into his jaw and shoulders. 
the noises between you two were erotic. it was desperate on max's end. he wanted to make you feel good while also chasing his own pleasure. he fought a little bit against constraints. he was a little jerky as he tensed up. he could feel it all crashing down on him. no longer the lingering feeling of self-doubt but rather he heat of pleasure. the need to climax. to get out of his own head with the erotic bliss. 
   “please, my love. please.” he swallowed as his back arched a little. he leaned up to give you more kisses and watched you melt against him while your hips still moved. you held his face with both hands and clenched your thighs. he made a sweet, high pitched, almost whine like noise when you pulled away.
you carded your fingers through his hair and admired those blue eyes clouded in lust. “you're perfect, max. every inch of you. every spot you hate, i love more. damn those fuckers on twitter, they don't get to see what i see. everything.” you went in for another kiss and clutched onto his shoulders tightly as you came around his cock. your back arched and max went in to kiss your collarbones with such tenderness. 
  “my good boy.” you said out of breath as you continued to move against him. your cunt clutched around him as you kept your pace steady despite the tremor in your thighs. you knew max wanted to hold onto you and work your hips up and down his cock. but, you were in control. so you examined his expressions as you continued to move. 
the kisses became sloppy once more as you brought max to his own climax. as he tensed up, he really yanked at the ropes for a good few moments before he felt all the fight leave his body. his eyes almost rolled back into his head from the head rush. he relaxed against the headboard and panted heavily. 
he looked erotic, but totally blissed out. so when you stopped your motions. you kissed him gently on the lips before you got off his cock and felt his cum run down your leg as you tried to find your panties. once they were on, you smothered him in kisses and praise as you got the ropes off of him.  you kissed his wrists and he slipped down onto the bed. the mattress felt nice against his body. he felt on cloud nine.
you rubbed his cheek for a moment with your thumb as you said, “i'm going to go get you some water. you just stay here, i'll be right back. now before i go i have to ask one thing. say one thing you like about yourself?"
he shakily exhaled while he leaned into your touch. his eyes were somewhat closed when he answered, sounding far away, “my eyes. they intimidate people. but not you. you love them.” then leaned further. 
you smiled and kissed the top of his head, “that's what i like to hear. next time i want two things before and after we have sex. got it? i'm going to make you love yourself.”
he chuckled softly, cheeks pink, “easier said than done.”
you tapped his cheek before you moved away to go get him some water. you said to him while you approached the bedroom door, “max verstappen, you know i'm as stubborn as you are. ” then left to go get him some water. you could only hope you could make a dent in healing some of his doubt issues. and while you couldn't fight people on twitter, you could kiss and love the man you called your boyfriend. <3
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tsxkkis · 6 months
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# tsukishima kei - eyes don't lie
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a/n: as @moonswolfie said, this man has me wrapped around his finger, so here's another tsukki fic^^ i wanted to post it earlier, but bcs of school i sadly wasn't able to do that
summary: tsukishima definitely isn't jealous. or is he?
warnings: none
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tsukishima's eyes were always glued to you.
his world revolved around you ever since you were little. although distant and dry at first, tsukishima seemed to take keen interest in your person almost immediately. he was lucky enough to end up in the same high school and class as you, even more lucky when he found a handwritten love letter in his locker, the writing obviously yours.
his eyes would glint whenever they landed on your frame, his lips always curving into a small, barely noticeable smile. yet this time, his look was completely different.
he looked annoyed, almost mad as he stood in the corner, his back against the wall as he carefully scanned the situation. the music was quite loud at the party, the house spacious enough to fit too many people for tsukishima's liking. it wasn't his party, of course; if it were up to him, he wouldn't be here in the first place. but something about your sweet, slightly pouty face while you asked him to accompany you was enough to convince him.
and now he was left watching as none other than kuroo tetsurou shamelessly flirted with you, talking and laughing at the other end of the room.
he seemed so irritated he didn't even notice his best friend standing right beside him, the freckled boy trying to contain his laughter upon seeing tsukishima's expression.
'ah, tsukki, you look even more grumpy than usual.' yamaguchi said, a small giggle leaving his mouth when his friend turned to face him, his expression so funny he couldn't contain his laughter anymore. 'i've never seen you so jealous.'
'i am not jealous.'
'right, and my name's hinata shoyo.'
tsukishima rolled his eyes, well aware that yamaguchi was, in fact, right. he was jealous beyond belief, almost to the point of making his blood boil. but it wasn't without its reasons.
you were beautiful, and not only in his eyes. many people from your high school, as well as outside of it, found you attractive, and due to this specific factor, tsukishima was afraid of someone swooping in and taking you away from him. no matter how many times yamaguchi assured him that you're not interested in anyone else, there was always a voice in the very back of his head telling him otherwise.
but still, he didn't utter a word to you about it. ever. he didn't want to show any weakness, brushing it off for the time being and pretending like he's not, in fact, quite hurt.
his eyes landed on you once again, his expression softening a bit when noticing you walking in his direction, a bright, wide smile gracing your face.
'i finally found you.' you said, tsukishima immediately noticing the sparkles in your eyes the moment they met his. an almost unnoticeable smile appeared on his face, his hand gently patting the top of your head, fingers brushing through your soft hair. 'want to go get some fresh air?'
the blonde hummed, nodding in response as you quickly grabbed him by his hand, almost dragging him to the nearest exit with a big smile on your face.
upon leaving the building, tsukishima laid his back against the wall, eyes glued to you and carefully scanning your every move.
'what're you thinking about?'
his head tilted to the side, a small mumble leaving his lips.
'nothing.'
hearing his answer, you sighed, walking up a few steps to stand right in front of him, a semi pouty look on your face. your hands went up to cup his cheeks, immediately scoring a theatrical groan from him, the boy trying to hide that he obviously liked whe  you did it.
'i don't believe you. you seem deep in thought.'
'what were you and kuroo talking about?'
tsukishima's eyes were focused on yours, his gaze gentle. and yet there was something in the way he looked at you that indicated something wasn't right.
'oh, we just talked about volleyball, what he's been doing after graduating high school, and- wait.' you stopped in the middle of the sentence, making a face that ysukishima couldn't quite decipher; something between an excited and mischievous look. she took a deep breath, her grin growing bigger with each second.
'are you jealous?'
'no, i'm not.'
'yes you are! i knew it.'
'no, i'm not.'
'you are.'
'i'm no- alright.' tsukishima sighed, admitting defeat this time. 'maybe i am. but it's your fault.'
you furrowed your brows, trying to understand what he meant by that. tsukishima saw the expression of yours and almost immediately continued talking, a short but sweet explanation.
'you're too pretty, one day someone's going to steal you from me.'
he didn't expect you to laugh in response, standing up on your tip toes to give him a quick, sweet kiss on the lips.
'it's cute.' you said, giggling at your boyfriend as you saw his cheeks flushing a light shade of pink. 'but i'm not going anywhere. there's only one guy in this world who i view as a life partner.'
'and who would that be?' tsukishima asked, a nonchalant tone as he played dumb just to hear the answer.
'you, idiot.'
the blonde boy smiled, and this time it was a genuine one, that would only appear on his face when around you. he ruffled your hair playfully, laughing when you got annoyed about him ruining your hair.
he looked over to the sides, smiling when realized it was just the two of you. he quickly leaned down to kiss you, hand resting on the side of your face.
'i love you.'
you smiled into the kiss upon hearing his whisper, pulling back for a second to look at his face. she wrapped her arms around him tightly, trapping him in a hug.
'i love you too, you know? and i don't plan on going anywhere.'
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taglist: @moonswolfie
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