#and harder to work with men in tech

[existential-eevee]

talk sysadmin to me <3

Okay. So today I���ve been working on a monitoring solution for our network. Easy, right? Just receive files and read them

Except it’s not. I set up my receiving correctly, set up the log parsing correctly, set up all of my sorting correctly. The ports are open, the firewall rules are in place, the system is doing its thing. But as the other coworkers on my team are trying to add stuff to my monitoring system, they’re having problems with the receiving. No problem, I’ll handle it. But the most entitled, angry cishet man is one of my coworkers and he’s trying to ask how to navigate a dashboard to read logs while I’m trying to fix a syntax error, and all the while he’s carrying on another conversation across me while I’m trying to get help from the nice old man who works with us to track down what the right syntax is. Too many conversations, but I end up working out a syntax change for template application in rsyslog 8.17 that’s different from 8.14 and solve it with rainerscript. Easy.

But then, angry coworker says his system should be sending logs and asks if I’m getting them. I’m not seeing them in my dashboard, so I dig a little more. I have the files, but they’re not parsing - had to be an issue with reading folders recursively, right? So I change the folder structure. I spend two and a half hours trying different ones. Nothing. So I’m sitting here stumped, I go back and read the logs from his machine, reference 8 year old forum posts, and on accident because I wanted to look at one of the logs parsed earlier this morning I change the time scope from “last 2 hours” to “today” and I find our issue. Lo and behold…

My stuff worked the whole time. His server time is 3 hours ahead so it wasn’t displaying because it’s not that time yet.

[thestarsaboveme]

Reader thinks the Lads men are cheating with MC

masterlist

this was a request from a kind anon.

summary: angst with comfort, reader and lads men having a misunderstanding because reader is overthinking that they’re cheating on her with the mc since they always spend time with the mc and spending less time with the reader.

xavier ver. | rafayel ver. | zayne ver. | caleb ver.

sylus x reader | angst/comfort

You were used to Sylus being quiet.

Not cold. Just…quiet.

So when his messages started getting shorter, when his gaze didn't linger as long on yours, when his kissed turned into brushes of habit more than affection, you didn't notice right away.

Until it started to hurt.

-

You saw them again.

Sylus and MC in the lab.

Her laughter reached you before their voices did. Sylus stood beside her, arms crossed, watching her monitor as she demonstrated something. He wasn't smiling. But he also wasn't pulling away like he did with most people. He was listening. Engaged.

You waited for him to notice you.

He didn't.

After ten minutes of watching from the hallway, you left.

-

Are you free tonight?

You messaged him later.

We haven't spent time together in a while.

He didn't reply for two hours.

Can't. Late testing with MC. Tomorrow?

Tomorrow.

Tomorrow. It was always tomorrow.

-

You told yourself you were being irrational. That he'd always been closer to MC, given their compatibility, their shared background, their synced missions. This his loyalty ran deeper than words, and if he was cheating, you'd know, right?

But your gut twisted every time you saw them together. Every time he mentioned her like she was another heartbeat.

And tonight, as you sat alone in your room again, you couldn't hold it in anymore.

You called him.

He answered on the second ring, voice calm. ''Hey. Everything okay?''

''No,'' you said, and your voice cracked more than you meant it to. ''Can you come over?''

A pause. ''Now?''

''I need to talk to you, Sylus. Please.''

A longer pause. Then: ''I'm on my way.''

-

When he arrived twenty minutes later, he looked tired. Dark circles under his eyes. His hair slightly disheveled from running his fingers through it too many times. He took one look at your expression and stepped in without a word.

You stood by the couch, arms folded across your chest.

He said nothing at first, just watched you. Waiting. Patient.

That made it harder.

''Are you cheating on me with MC?''

The words came out like broken glass.

Sylus blinked. No dramatic reaction. No flinch. Just stilness.

Then a slow, quiet, ''No.''

You let out a shaky breath. ''Then why does it feel like you're never here anymore? Why does it feel like you replaced me with her?''

Still calm, he asked, ''Is that what you think I've done?''

''I don't know what to think, Sylus!'' you snapped, voice rising. ''You've been with her constantly. You talk about her like she's in your head all the time.'' You make time for her, not me. And I sit here, waiting like I'm some background character you forgot about.''

He stepped forward slowly. ''You're not.''

''Then explain it to me,'' you whispered. ''Because I'm tired of guessing where I stand with you.''

He ran a hand through his hair and sighed. Quietly, heavily.

''There's nothing going on between me and MC,'' he said. ''But I haven't made that clear. That's on me.''

You swallowed hard. ''Then why have you been so distant?''

He hesitated, then moved to sit on the edge of the couch, elbows resting on his knees. Not his usual posture. He looked vulnerable. Smaller, somehow.

''I've been working with MC on some dangerous tech,'' he said slowly. ''There were…anomalies in her readings. We thought they were unstable. I needed to make sure she was okay.''

You frowned. ''So you were protecting her?''

''I was doing my job. I was trying to prevent another incident. Something like what happened to me.'' He looked up then, eyes locking onto yours. ''And I didn't want you anywhere near it.''

You hesitated. ''Why not tell me that?''

He looked away again. ''Because if you knew, you'd want to help. You'd want to be involved. And I couldn't handle the thought of something happening to you.''

Silence fell between you.

You sat beside him on the couch, not touching.

''You think keeping me in the dark is protecting me?''

''I thought I could carry it all without hurting you,'' he said. ''But I was wrong.''

You exhaled. ''You made me feel like you were slipping away. Like I was being replaced by someone who understands you better.''

His jaw tightened. ''No one understands me like you do.''

You met his eyes again. ''Then why couldn't you just say that?''

He stared at you for a long time.

And finally, he said, ''Because you're the only person who makes me feel like I'm still human. Like I'm more than what I was built to do. And that scares me more than anything.''

Your heart clenched.

''Sylus…''

''I'm not used to needing someone,'' he admitted. ''But I need you. And I didn't know how to say that without feeling like I was putting you in danger.''

''You're not,'' you whispered. ''You're just hurting both of us instead.''

He nodded, slowly. ''I know. I'm sorry.''

You reached out, brushing your fingers against his hand. He didn't move away.

''I don't want to be protected from your truth, Sylus,'' you said. '' I want to stand beside you, not behind you.''

he finally turned his hand over, letting your fingers intertwine.

''I can try,'' he said softly. ''If you'll let me fix this.''

You leaned into his shoulder, the silence between you no longer cold. But healing.

''I want to,'' you said. ''But next time…talk to me.''

''I will,'' he promised.

And somehow, in that quiet, broken space between heartache and hope, you began to believe him.

[dante-mightdie]

harmless pranks with 141

price should really put a stop to it, but in their line of work, there isn’t much time for laughter. and if a silly prank puts a smile on his men’s faces for a few seconds before they go back into the shit, he can live with that

thinking about simon and price’s rooms/offices being directly across from each other. so naturally, johnny and kyle tie a rope connecting their doorknobs before knocking on both doors. both of them doubled over laughing as simon and price both yank on their doors trying to get them open, causing the other’s to pull closed over and over again. muffled frustrated curses coming from behind the door

telling simon that they’re all doing fancy dress for johnny’s birthday at the pub. cut to them all pissing themselves laughing when simon walks in, dressed in a full grim reaper costume, only to find everyone else in their civvies. at least he didn’t have to pay for any rounds that night

simon isn’t above picking the lock to the barracks so he can change kyle and johnny’s ringtones to something outrageous and blatantly lewd. calling their phones with his caller ID off during price’s debriefs or when he knows they’re gonna be in price’s office for a telling off. they’ll never know it was him either

the boys telling the bar or restaurant staff to take john’s food when he’s still eating/drinking. but they do it so often that he just starts getting so pissed off at the boys when they do it, so it makes them laugh even harder

john rarely partakes, only when one of their silly pranks cost him a 10/10 he was chatting up at the bar. he’ll talk to the tech department, get them to edit johnny’s pictures so he’s slightly shorter and got a slightly bigger forehead. gets everyone in on it with the promise of drinks on him by telling them to act like the photos have looked like that the entire time. only admits the truth when johnny starts crashing out

[fawnnlvr]

miscommunication | spencer reid

pairing: spencer reid x bau!reader

masterlist

summary: in which reader mistakes penelope for fawning over spencer reid and accidently reveals her secret crush on the talkative doctor.

word count: 1.9k

author's note: hiiiii!!!! i have been thinking of this idea for weeks and thanks to summer, it was finally brought to life so enjoy my loves ♥︎

It was a fairly slow morning at the BAU.

Agents were steadily strolling in and settling into their spots to start the long day ahead of them. Placing your jacket on the back of your chair, and your bag on the open space of your desk, you walked towards the coffee bar where your fellow coworkers were talking.

Holding a coffee cup from the local café that was stained with the lipstick you wore, you walked into a conversation the tech analysis, Penelope Garcia, was having with fellow agent, Spencer Reid.

"Hi guys!" you softly greeted as you found your spot beside Penelope.

"Morning." Spencer spoke with a smile. Your hands fiddled with the cardboard around your hot coffee cup as her looked into your eyes with this gentleness that made your heart warm.

"Good morning my sweetness." Penelope greeted with a big smile, "We were just talking about how Hotch was being a meanie and making us finish yesterday's paperwork by this afternoon."

"Oh yeah, I already finished mine. Haven't you guys?" you looked at Penelope who had a guilty smile before your eyes flickered back to Spencer.

"Unfortunately not. I fell asleep as soon as I got home, but if I start now, I can probably finish it in an hour if I really pace myself." he answered your question and you felt yourself unable to meet his gaze once again, instead keeping your focus on either the ground or Penelope.

It really wasn't your fault, it was his. After he got his new haircut, you found it even harder to focus while he was in the room.

Being in a room full of profilers, it was hard fo keep this little secret of yours but you truly had no choice. It could be considered unprofessional and totally embarassing due to the things he made you feel from simply existing.

You have the hugest crush on Doctor Spencer Reid and he was consuming all your thoughts. You always had a thing for nerds— well, smart men who knew what they were talking about and made learning their life mission. You found his love for knowledge and statistics and facts so cute. Whenever he opened his mouth to speak about facts he had mesmorized, you could barely focus.

It was already hard to stop yourself from biting your lip or keeping your gaze off of him, but after his new haircut that perfectly enhanced all his perfect features, you were doomed for failure.

"Well you should get working on that. Hotch seems even more cranky ever since Strauss gave him a little visit yesterday." Penelope advised.

"Good idea. I'll see you guys later." Spencer stated before grabbing his coffee mug and walking back to his desk. He used his hand to brush down the bangs in front of his face, a habit he picked up ever since he got his new haircut.

You allowed your eyes to linger more than it should have on his retreating figure. Looking back towards Penelope, you were almost taken aback from the look on her face— well the look in her eyes.

It was the look of a lion that hadn't eaten anything in days and just spotted a pretty little gazelle. It was a look you were all too famaliar with ever since you caught yourself staring at Spencer and when he left, you caught yourself in the mirror he was previously standing in front of. You scared yourself at that unfortunate moment. You followed her line of vision and she was looking in the same direction you had, towards Spencer.

He was working at his desk, studiously doing what he said he was going to do. Penelope stayed quiet for a few moments and you hadn't mind since you were all too busy thinking about how Spencer's jaw was hand-crafted by angels.

"Man, ever since he got that new thingy, he has been looking even more yummy."

You felt yourself tense a bit. Penelope was always a girl to make flattering comments about everybody so you innocently agreed since she was right— Spencer's haircut did make him look good. "Yeah, he really does look nice with it."

"Ugh, and that way he just fills that shirt in." She took another sip of her coffee and your eyes flickered to her before going back to Spencer, trailing your eyes on the fitted dark plum purple button up.

"He looks good in it. That really is his color." Innocent comments so far.

Penelope hummed, "Sometimes it makes me mad. Like how can somebody look so good— don't even get me started on his voice. Everytime he talks, I can hardly focus."

You had a small laugh as you brought the coffee up to your lips. You really couldn't believe the words that were coming out of her mouth but then again, it was Penelope— she had no filter. She was the type of woman to make anyone feel safe and seen, which is maybe part of the reason you kept agreeing with her and revealed more. "I thought I was the only one who thought that."

"Oh sweetie, I am positive everybody shares the same opinion. I mean look at him— even Hotch or Rossi can't deny his looks. The way he has the ability to command the room with his words alone." Penelope continued.

You did suppose there was a reason Morgan calls Spencer 'pretty boy' and no one bats an eye. "He does have a way with his words."

Penelope looked at you and saw this sort of softness in your eyes as you looked towards the desk area.

"Whenever he spurs out all this knowledge, it makes me feel safe. You know?" you looked towards Penelope, "He always knows what he's doing and what he's talking about. It's just nice to know you can always fall back on him."

"I hear you so much. I don't want to spoil the mood or whatever— I am all for women empowerment, but something about him being so dominating makes me so hot and bothered."

"Dominating?" you whispered under your breath, a little confused.

"You know, I didn't think you would be that into him. This is the first time you agreed with me about him." Penelope commented and you tilted your head.

You thought back to all the times she's mentioned Spencer and you believed you always held a somewhat indifferent view on him. Either that or you let it slip that you quite admired him. "Really? Well it isn't so suprising, I guess I am kind of secretive when it comes to the dating scene since not a lot of people get my type."

"Type? Honey, that man over there is everybody's type. I don't think there is a girl in the world who would pass up an opportunity with him."

You glanced back towards Spencer. She really did have a point. He truly looked like a model, but you supposed his personality sort of deterred people away, but you personally found that the most attractive thing about him.

"He really is a great guy isn't he?" You confessed to Penelope while looking in Spencer's direction and you heard a small gasp. She sets down her coffee cup before covering her mouth.

"My sweetie is that love in your eyes that I see."

You hummed in suprise, "W-What? No, of course not. Don't be ridiculous."

"Oh it so is and don't even try to deny it. The eyes do not lie. I thought there was something going on. You always seemed quiet during the briefings and your eyes were always kept on the ground. I may not be a profiler, but I too, noticd things."

You quietly tried to shush Penelope and she got the message and she pulled you further away from the target of affections.

"Please tell me how it all happened! I need to know! How did this crush start?"

"I-I don't know. It just did. I always found him quite cute—"

"Cute? Aw!" That wasn't how Penelope would personally describe the fox that is Derek Morgan, but to each their own.

"– and he was always just so nice to me and we shared the same interests — and I just really feel comfortable around him."

Penelope had the warmest smile on her face as you recounted the times where you felt the most safest and loved around Spencer. You tucked a hair behind your ear to try to give yourself some time to stop the cheek hurting smile on your face.

"Who would've known that you would have a crush on the muscular—" Hm? "Mister playboy bunny himself–" Excuse me? "—Derek Morgan."

Silence.

"What?" you almost dropped your coffee cup and your eyes quickly flickered back to Spencer and his general direction. There it was.

Whenever you looked at Spencer, there would often be moments where he was the sole focus of your eye and everything around him became blurry and unimportant. Not to say that your fellow coworker was unimportant, but he wasn't exactly a priority in your mind.

There sat Spencer at his desk and behind his figure, was Agent Derek Morgan, laughing on his phone as he caught your eye and waved. You were too shocked — too horrified to even wave back. Derek sort of flinched back in his seat by the look you were giving him. He had never seen you stared at him like that before. You looked at him as if he was a ghost or had a huge bug on his head which caused him to look around. Was he the only you were giving these crazy eyes too?

Penelope was taken aback by your shocked expression and redirected her eyes to the same direction. The wires had connected and a lightbulb of pure chaos had sparked inside her head.

"Oh my God. Oh my God. Oh my God." Penelope repeated these words as she whisper shouted, slowly increasing her voice.

"Shhh! No!"

"Earlier— the new thingy and him looking attractive. I was talking about Derek's giant new watch— you thought I was talking about Reid's new haircut. Oh and his voice– oh my dear you are getting turned on by Spencer's constant yapping on statistics and facts. You naughty naughty—"

"Okay! Penelope stop!" you practically shrieked, "You didn't hear a word. This didn't happen."

Horrified, you placed your coffee cup down and began to walk backwards, placing a finger against your glossed lips while staring into Penelope's soul.

You inched back further as Penelope had to refrain herself from bursting out laughing. She knew you must be feeling so embarassed at that moment so she did her best to compose herself... until you were out of sight.

You yelped as you had accidently bumped into somebody.

"Are you alright?" Emily Prentiss asked as she steadied you by the shoulders and got you balanced, "And why does Penelope look like she just hacked into the winning lottery numbers."

"Nothing!" you whispered shouted, very loudly, "You both heard and saw nothing!" your fingers threatlessly threatened your fellow older coworkers; one who knew exactly what had transpired and the other being an innocent bystander who walked in at the wrong moment at the wrong time.

Emily and Penelope watched your retreating figure as you ran down the hall, towards the bathrooms.

"What's up with her?" Emily inquired, eyes furrowed with concern.

"Oh, just the sweet illness and craziness of love." Penelope spoke, she then looked at Emily's confused face before bursting out laughing. The loudest laughter she thinks she has ever laughed. Everybody looked at Penelope who was gripping onto the coffee bar table, doubling down on laughter.

The laughter echoed all the way to the bathroom in which you were trying not to drown yourself in the toilet from embrassment.

Hotch came outside his office and took one glance after Penelope before turning to Rossi, "Remind me to get her drug tested later."

Emily quickly fled the scene, not bothering to look back until she was in the safety of her own desk surrounded by her fellow agents who were armed. Spencer paused in his work to find Penelope slowly calming down but still shaking with laughter as she trudged back to her little computer den.

The slow and quiet morning of the BAU turned into a loud mystery of a case the agents weren't sure they wanted to solve.

[ebonyheartnet]

Jason wished he could give a fuck beyond the hostage they were here for, but honestly? This latest cult’s lack of originality just pissed him off. Times like this, he wished contacts were an option to hide the glow so Dick would stop it with the puppy dog eyes.

“Stupid fucking corrosive reservoir condition,” he muttered.

“All good, Hood?”

“I’m fine, O. Just being a normal amount of crazy.”

“Chatter,” Batman snapped.

Jason groaned and checked his position for the fifth time. On Batman’s signal, they all dropped.

The plan was simple: neutralize the doomsday cultists trying to summon a creature to protect its daughter. They’d done harder, more complicated extractions with half the manpower and a quarter of the time.

Maybe it was the itch in his bones.

Maybe it was the sudden headache.

Maybe it didn’t matter what distracted him, because the outcome was the same. Jason had been pulling the unconscious hostage out of the summoning circle when he felt something hot against his neck.

Of course someone got a lucky shot.

All Jason could do was fling the girl clear as the green rose around him.

____

“Madam, I’m afraid I’m going to have to ask you to step back,” Alfred said calmly, cocking his shot gun.

“Good thing you’re not gonna need that since it won’t work,” the glowing woman said. She crossed her arms and tapped a spectral foot. “Listen, this is entertaining, but it was a fight just to get here. I know you can help me get to my son.”

“And I believe I asked you to identify yourself.”

“Right, Jason didn’t have any pictures of me…”

“Madam, I will not ask—“

“Catherine Todd, at your service, Mr. Alfred.” The ghost glared. “Some fucker decided to botch summoning a, “nurturing spirit that would burn the world for their child,” so here I am.”

Alfred blinked, which was practically a spit take for him, and the shot gun lowered a fraction.

“Ms. Todd, that is quite the remarkable story. I don’t mean to cast any doubt, but…”

“Did I mention that I beat the shit out of Sheila for the right to be here?” Catherine’s smile was all knives. “The bitch might be blood, but that’s my baby she sold out. The spell didn’t leave much room beyond that.”

“Does that sound plausible?” Alfred said into his comm.

“It’s way more than probable,” Oracle responded. “I’ve lost Hood, RR, Wing and B. Black Bat was closest and is attempting recon.”

“Tell Barbara that Jason falling into the circle probably triggered a strong enough pulse to fry their tech. Ecto doesn’t play well with untreated electronics.” Catherine laughed at the carefully blank look Alfred gave. “Dead men tell no tales is a fucking lie. We’ve gotta pass the time somehow.”

“Well that’s… Hmm.” Barbara groaned. “If she knows, she knows. Bringing her down might be worth it.”

It was finally Alfred’s turn to smirk. He opened the door and lead Catherine towards the cave. Bruce wouldn’t like it, but he could be mollified. Video evidence of Sheila’s loss would be a powerful bribe.

[moody-alcoholic]

Cross My Heart

Part 6 - How to Infiltrate a Terror Cell

Summary: eventual poly141 x reader. Enemies to lovers, mini fic.

CW: Violence, sexual remarks/touching, use of weapons, description of injuries, implied torture, blood, death.

AN: This one really got away from me. These mini fics are supposed to be 'short' and easy to write.

Previous parts - masterlist - next

AO3

Enjoy <3

It's the worst idea you’ve ever heard. But here you are nodding at Price while he lays out the plan.

“First things first we need to confirm Konni have Alex. Then we focus on Makarov.” 

“I know one of the guards who works in the prison wing. He’ll be my way in.” You explain.

“Makarov will be harder. He's always surrounded by his best soldiers. I can probably find out what he's doing here but as for getting an audience with him or even getting near him it’s going to be next to impossible.” You explain. Price hums laying back on the sofa.

“Find out why he's here then we get Alex out. Rendezvous with the ULF and make a plan from there.” Price says. 

“As soon as we spring Alex that's it. There's no way I will be getting back in there.” You say raising an eyebrow.

“That's why it's important you get as much Intel before getting him out.” You nod standing up. 

“Here.” Gaz says coming over to you and handing you a USB. You take it raising an eyebrow. 

“Plug it into any computer and it will copy all the files over.” He says, you nod at him, he lingers for longer then he needs to. Maybe he’s warming up to you too. 

“When you find Alex, tell him 141 sent you. He’ll know to trust you.”

“Are you sure?” You ask sceptical. You know if they’ve been trying to get info out of him it’s very unlikely he will trust you, or anyone for that matter of fact. You might have to resort to dragging him out.

“I’m sure.” You sigh looking out the window. The sun is coming up. You should leave sooner rather than later, it’s a few miles back to the border, wait any longer and the story you’ve constructed might not make sense. You go over to pull your jacket on.

“I should get going.” 

“We’ll be waiting at the rendezvous point.” price says. You nod looking round the room. Maybe they won’t wish you luck. Maybe they don’t mind if you die, one less thing for them to worry about.

“Good luck.” Gaz calls. That you didn’t expect. You smile at him. 

...

“You said Farah’s forces where moving north not fucking marines.” You snap at your handler, Ivan. He called for you as soon as you made it into the base. It was early morning, most people had gone to meet Makarov's entourage, apparently, the place was running on a skeleton crew. 

Good, easier for you.

“The packages?” 

“Dead.”

“Shit, they were tech specialists, Al Qatala needed them.” 

“Explains why they were shit lookouts.” You mutter under your breath. The other man in the room catches that and you look over at him. You don’t recognise him, he’s barely said a word since you entered the room. Just looks at you now and then from over his laptop.

“Why did they let you live?” He asks, his accent is thicker, he’s not from round here. Maybe he’s not even Russian at all.

“I patched up one of their injured. They let me live.” 

“Which way did they go?”

“West.” You lie. Both the men look at eachother then back down at the map.

“Sakhra?” Ivan asks.

“Makes sense If they have one injured they’ll want to head to a neutral hospital or a ULF. The Americans have been getting too close to the border for my liking.” The other man says shrugging. 

“How sure are you that they're heading west?” 

“I overheard them talking before they left.” You explain.

“Well, I have to deal with a very angry Al Qatala contact. You better get yourself ready. Makarov will have jobs for you I'm sure.” Ivan says. 

“Wouldn't want to fuck them up.” The other man says.

“What's he doing here? Makarov?” You ask as the Ivan turns away. 

“Not really any of your business but let's just say he's planning a nice surprise for the ULF. And now we have an American who knows all their movements there's no way we miss.” The other man says. 

“Has he talked?” 

“Not yet, but he will. The Butchers on his way. A little gift from Al Qatala.” Ivan says. Shit. You have to move quick if you’re going to get him out here it has to be now. You leave the room, closing the door behind you. Before you head to the prison wing you skip into the handlers office. He never locks it, he's going to regret that. 

You plug the USB into the computer and a loading bar starts. You look round the desk, looking at the papers for anything interesting. Your heart is hammering in your chest, you keep looking up to the door hoping no one will come in.

You look back at the PC, it's only 50% done. You start to look through the drawers for anything, even if it is just to keep you busy. You see plans, plans for some kind of weapon. You take them out, folding them up and shove them into your pocket. 

The transfer is almost done. You hear a door close, you’re holding your breath, your hands run over the papers on the desk. You hear the Ivan's voice 90%. You panic, he’s probably coming to his office, you need to distract him. You go round to the other side of the desk leaning against it. You hear a beep on the computer, the USB must be done, you reach over pulling it out and shoving it in the pocket with the papers. 

You only just manage to compose yourself as he walks in. A smile grows on his face. He walks up to you, his hand resting on your hip.

“You’ve got me in a whole bunch of trouble. Least you could do is make it worth my while.” He says, you can smell the vodka on his breath as he leans in to kiss your neck. You don’t have time for this, one of his hands slips round to grab your ass. It’s like he wants to pick you up and put you on the desk.

“Ivan,” you breath as his hand presses dangerously close to the other back pocket. He pulls his mouth off your neck. “I have stuff to do.” 

“Yeah you do.” He says with that stupid grin on his face before pressing his lips onto you. Normally you wouldn’t mind but you’re about to betray him this feels wrong. You push him off you. He huffs crossing his arms.

“I really have to get ready. Besides, don't you have to prepare for our special VIP?” You say, he tips his head to the side you can tell he’s not happy about this. He steps away walking round to the other side of his desk and you turn with him.

“Fuck Makarov, this whole plan is pointless. The American is not going to talk, he’s rushing into this too quickly.” 

“What does he want?” You ask, maybe now you’re alone he’ll give you some more answers. 

“He wants to take over the northern territories.” 

“Of Urzikstan?” Ivan nods. “He’s crazy, he’ll turn Al Qatala against him.” 

“He wants to use it as a bargaining chip.” he says. 

“Not going to be much bargaining if he’s dead.” You scoff crossing your arms. That explains why he’s so nonchalant about upsetting Al Qatala, when Makarov is done, lost techs will be the least of their worries. 

“On top of that he’s got us chasing some military unit helping Farah.” Your stomach sinks. 

“Military unit?” You ask, swallowing the nerves.

“Yeah 141 or something. Anyway, I’ve had people looking for them for weeks. We don’t even know if they’re still in the country.” He says going to type on his computer. You need to leave. Get Alex and leave.

“Well, if I find them I’ll let you know.” You say heading for the door. He chuckles. 

“Hey.” He calls as you’re about to close the door. “You’ll be back later right? I’ve missed you.” He hasn’t missed you, he’s missed sex. You smile and nod at him. 

…

“You look like shit.” Caleb says offering you the last of his cigarette. You take it sucking a deep breath in and letting it calm you. It didn’t take you long to walk over to the prison building, of course Caleb was already waiting for you, he waved at you when he saw you walk through the front gate.

“Heard you fucked your job.” He chuckles.

“Hear a lot with those massive ears of yours.” You say reaching up to flick him. He bats your hand away. “Thought you would be out with the others going to pick up Makarov?” 

“Fuck that.” He laughs, you smile, throwing the butt on the floor and stamping it out. You follow him back into the prison wing. It’s not really a prison, this whole building used to be a school or something, it’s been abandoned for years. Well until Konni and Makarov took it over. 

“Heard you’ve got an American here?” You ask looking round at the shabby built cells. 

“Yeah.” He says pointing down the hall. There are at least two other guards. Hopefully you can get Caleb to turn a blind eye, then you only need to worry about them. And the guards on the gate, and the extra security that will come after you as soon as they know there’s been a break out. 

“Heard The Butchers coming to question him.” 

“Oof, unlucky guy.” He winces. You walk down a different hall with him. There are only a few people in the makeshift cells, most of them are converted offices. 

“Anyway, how did you manage to mess up your job?”

“Marines came in and caught me off guard. No one warned me there were Americans around.” You say sticking to the made up story. 

“At least you’ve been out doing something. Ivan has the whole place on edge with this Makarov visit. Maybe it’s good you came back early. Calm him down.” He jokes nudging you. You roll your eyes. Nudging him back. It’s just sex, mindless stupid sex. And yeah maybe Ivan looks away when you fuck up from time to time, like today. 

“What did he get bored of the cook house girl?” You tease back, Caleb laughs. You walk on a little further mustering up the confidence to ask him. You have to be careful, out of anyone you want Caleb to get hurt the least. You’re going to miss your chats with him. 

“I need a favor.” You say stopping him and gripping his arm. He frowns at you, he seems to sense the unease in your voice looking around before leaning in closer to you. 

“The American. I need to talk to him. 30 seconds alone.” You say trying your best not to sound nervous. 

“Are you crazy? Ivan’s got that shit locked down. No one is allowed to look in his direction let alone talk to him.” Caleb whispers gripping your arm. 

“I’ll deal with Ivan.” You say. “You owe me, remember?” He shakes his head. 

“Not this, they’ll kill me if anything happens to him.” 

“You owe me.” You say again this time gritting your teeth, you don’t exactly have time to negotiate. He sighs looking around. 

“30 seconds. No more.” He says. You smile reaching up and kissing his cheek. 

“Thank you.” He shakes his head and calls the other guards over. You move past them pretending to head for the exit before turning down the hall where Caleb pointed earlier. You take the key off the wall opening the door. There’s a man sitting on the bed. He springs up as soon as you step in.

“I was sent by 141. Are you Alex?” You ask, holding your arms out. He nods, frowning, as well as he can, his head is bruised and one of his eyes is swollen. The few clothes they’ve left him in are drenched through and he’s holding his other arm like it’s broken. “I’m here to get you out. I don’t have time to explain, you just need to trust me.” You say leaving the room. He hesitates a second then follows you. You go over to the guards table and pick up a weapon, loading it and putting another mag in your pocket. 

“Can you walk?” You ask, trying to keep an eye on the door Caleb would have taken the guards through. As soon as they see you they’ll open fire and sound the alarm. You need to leave. You start to head towards the door, clicking the safety off your gun. You quickly look behind you to make sure Alex is following, he is but too slow for your liking. 

Before you can tell him to hurry the door at the end of the room opens. A guard looks at you, his eyes then flick to Alex. You don’t have time to think you bring the weapon up and shoot him. 

Move! Your brain screams. The shot will have alerted people. Alex makes it over you and you practically drag him through the door out into the courtyard. A shot rings out and you pull him round the side of a building. You look back to see Caleb shouting orders as more guards run round. 

You look over at the entrance of the base. It’s close but you have to get over the wall, which means you’re going to have to fight. 

“We’re going to have to hop that wall. Think you can manage that?” You ask as you turn to Alex. He nods and opens his mouth but before he has a chance to say anything more shots ring out hitting the wall where you’re hiding. 

It’s now or never. You jump out from behind the building and sprint across to the wall. You hear Caleb call your name as you throw yourself over the wall rolling down the embankment. You hear Alex groan out in pain, he’s definitely got something broken. You get to your knees watching him writhe in pain. You don’t have time for this. Alarms ring out. Now you really don’t have time for this. You look over to the entrance. The gates are being locked. Great now you’re going to need to get keys. 

At least that's easy to do if the person is dead. You reach over gripping Alex’s arm pulling him to his feet. He cries out in pain, you don’t have time to worry about it as more shots ring out. You can see Caleb running across towards you, you pull Alex over the drain and up the opposite embankment. You let go of his arm to open fire on the guards in front of you. There’s only two of them, at the gate. 

You take cover behind the inspection booth, Alex kneels down beside you. You hand him your gun.

“I need to get a key, cover me.” You say. You don’t know if you trust him, or if he’ll even be a good shot but he’s better than nothing. He nods, you crawl out over to one of the bodies. Shots ring out behind you. Well he’s not killed you yet. You fumble around the guards belt and pockets. Nothing.

“Shit!” you call crawling over to the other guard out in the open. More shots ring out, from in front and behind you. Alex must have picked up a weapon off the guard. You find the ring of keys clipped on the guards belt. Your hands are shaking from adrenaline as you try to unhook them.

“Watch out!” Alex shouts. You don’t get time to look up before someone kicks you in the back. You look over at Alex fumbling with a mag. A shot rings out and he ducks behind the booth just in time. 

“Fuck.” You say pulling yourself to your feet. You’re surprised the person lets you get up. Before you can turn though a pain radiates in your side.

It’s worse than anything you’ve ever felt before. Have you been shot? When you finish turning you see a guard. Before you have time to react his head explodes into and he lands beside you. You look over at Alex, he’s still fumbling with the clip. 

You turn to see Caleb bringing his weapon down to his side, he looks sad, he’s your friend and you're betraying him. You reach down to touch where the pain is. Your head is swimming, your hands feel blood, then cold metal. There’s a knife, you’ve been stabbed.

“No!” you yell at Alex as he comes back from round the booth, his weapon drawn. Caleb holds up the keys, you smile at him. He pushes past you, opening the gate. You stumble over, each step sending shooting pains through your body.  

“You owe me!” Caleb says as he throws his arm around you. You lean up against him as he half drags you into the tree line.

“On the other side of the tree line. There’s a truck.” You say switching to English. 

“Rescue?” Caleb asks in English, you smile crying out in pain as you step over a fallen tree. 

“That's where 141 are waiting.” You say, it’s getting harder to focus, at least the sound of the alarm from the base isn’t ringing in your ears. 

“How do you know 141?” Alex asks as he watches round you, his weapon still drawn.

“It’s a long story.” You say breathless. You want to pull the knife out, it hurts so much. You know you shouldn't though. Not until you have something to pack the wound with. 

“Just keep going.” Caleb says, hitching you up tighter to him as you start to stumble. You can barely see what’s happening, the forest becoming a mix of blurry greens and browns. It feels like you’ve been walking for miles when you hear the engine of a truck. It makes your adrenaline spike, giving you a brief moment of clarity as you make it to the edge of the tree line.

“It’s them!” You hear the familiar Scottish accent. The sun blinds you as you make it through the trees. 

“Shit, what happened?” You hear someone ask, there are more hands on you now. You’re picked up.

“Who are you?” A gun clicks.

“Caleb, friend.” Is all you manage to say. You hear whoever is holding you curse under his breath. You’re pulled into the back of the truck on the floor. It makes you cry out again, your hand going to your wound. There’s banging and clattering. You don't have time to question how they got their hands on an military truck.

“Hey, lass, c’mon stay with us we’ll get you sorted.” It’s Soap. You look out through the back of the truck, you can see Price with his hand on Alex’s shoulder, Gaz taking the weapon out Caleb's hand. Then you see it in the distance, a truck. 

Price notices it too. He helps Alex get in the truck next to you, closing the back.

“Ghost, let's move!” He shouts. Gaz has vanished, you hear a door slam. Price pulls himself in the truck holding his arm out for Caleb. It doesn’t matter though.

Shots ring out, they hit the truck, you see Price duck, then the flash of blood. Caleb's hit, his body goes limp and falls to the floor as the truck pulls away. 

You’re not sure what happens next. Your scream fills the air as you watch Caleb's body get smaller covered in the dirt kicked up by the truck. Someone is pressing your body down. Suddenly Price is leaning over you, more shots ring out hitting the truck. You feel tears stream down your face. You got him killed, the only person you didn’t want to get hurt. 

“Alex! Cover fire!” You watch as Price hands him an AR, they both move down to the end of the truck returning fire. Your body is being flung from side to side as the truck drives out the forest and onto a road. 

You don’t care what happens now, you don’t care if you die. You did your job, you got Alex out. You close your eyes letting out a breath. 

“No, no, no! Eyes open c’mon!” It’s Soap again. Your eyes snap open as he shakes you. The gunfire dies down, maybe you’ve lost them. Maybe they won’t follow you out on a main road.

“Caleb.” You say. “His name was Caleb.” Soap frowns for a second then lets out a sigh. 

“Johnny.” He says. 

“Nice to meet you Johnny.” You smile. He smiles back. You can’t stay awake anymore. Your head is spinning, black spots fade into your vision. He calls out to you, shaking you but you just can’t stay awake. Your last thought is of Caleb as everything goes black. 

next

Banners by plum98

[alisonsfics]

can you keep a secret

pairing: spy!henry cavill x spy!reader

summary: you and henry are both spies working for separate employers, making you both rivals. you both get sent on the same mission to bring in a high-value target. you both notice your hate-hate relationship start to morph into something else when you make out as an attempt to hide from security. neither of you are surprised when you end up in his room at the end of the night.

word count: 3.5k

warnings: smut, unprotected sex, hate fucking, dirty talk, enemies with benefits, minors DNI

Soft jazz music echoed around the room as the rich and powerful mingled— all with their own agendas.

You had your own agenda, granted it was probably very different from everyone there.

Your agenda? Track down Elias Waters, the tech billionaire. Your agency had received intel that he had arranged a meeting with a buyer at the gala to sell his latest creation.

Or blueprints of his latest creation.

It was all contained on a USB drive that he was carrying. Your job was to retrieve the USB drive before he could meet with the buyer.

Rich men all had one weakness— pretty women who feed into their egos.

You stayed around the outskirts of the crowd— skillfully scanning the room as you pretended to reapply your lipstick.

No sign of Waters yet.

Then, you caught the eye of a familiar man at the bar. His cool blue gaze found yours, as it had so many times before. He sent you a wink, raising his martini glass in your direction.

Henry Cavill.

The only other intelligence operative that could give you a run for your money. You both were the best of the best— but worked for different agencies.

Meaning, he was often your competition. He was cocky and stubborn— but also charming and charismatic, which made your job harder.

You did a final room scan and still didn’t see Waters. You started to walk across the room towards Henry. His eyes stayed glued to your dress as it softly swished from side to side while you walked.

“That’s a nice dress,” he complimented, his eyes still raking over you.

It was black, floor-length and clung to your frame like it was made just for you.

You grabbed his glass out of his hand, taking the last sip of his martini. You stared at him over the rim of the glass. “You nervous that you don’t stand a chance once Waters sees me in this dress?” You taunted.

“Maybe you should have spent more time doing research. Elias has a new girlfriend, fresh out of his divorce. Some young girl.” Henry whispered to you. He could threaten you any way he wanted, you still saw the way his pupils were blown out when looked at you.

“I think you underestimate me.” You replied, cocking your head to the side. Henry scoffed, flagging down the bartender and ordering two more martinis for you both.

“Is your only skill your sex appeal?” He asked. You leaned in closer to him. You watched as he shuddered as you readjusted his bow tie. “No, but it’s pretty damn effective.” You responded.

He didn’t know it, but you’d just spotted Waters over his shoulder.

The bartender appeared with your drinks. You handed one to Henry and grabbed the other. You started to walk around the bar— Henry’s gaze stayed glued on you the whole time.

You spotted an older woman at the bar, who wasn’t wearing a wedding ring. “Hi, excuse me, this is from my friend down the bar. His name is Leonard. He wanted me to tell you he thought you were beautiful.” You lied, handing her the drink and directing her gaze towards where Henry was standing.

He was just far enough away that he couldn’t hear you, but he sensed it was some kind of trap. The woman’s eyes went wide as she laid eyes on Henry— who was one of the most attractive men in the room.

The woman quickly sauntered over towards Henry, and then was dragging him towards the dance floor.

“Fuck you,” he mouthed to you as you walked past the dance floor.

You made your way over to where Elias Waters was standing and surveying the crowd.

“Mr. Waters? I really hate to interrupt you, but I’m such a big fan of your work. I’m doing my senior thesis on your new project. It’s just breathtaking work really. You’re a remarkable man.” You pretended to gush.

The man’s eyes rolled down your chest, staring at your cleavage. Girlfriend or not, this was still your magic dress.

You fingers brushed against his forearm affectionately. “Why don’t we go talk somewhere more private?” He asked, resting his hand on your back and guiding you to one of the sitting areas towards the back of the room.

He found a couch for you to both sit on. His eyes were glued to the slit in your dress as you sat down and some of your thigh was exposed.

“My organization is always interesting in support the minds of tomorrow. I’m sure we could reach some agreement to secure funding for you.” He said, with a playful wink. Now, it was time to play the part of the bashful young woman.

“In exchange for what? I’m afraid I don’t have much to offer.” You pretended to miss his drift. Suddenly, his hand was on your thigh, sneaking higher and higher up.

You knew the USB drive was in his jacket pocket, but you couldn’t get to it without him noticing. “I’m sure you can be of some assistance to me.” His grip on your leg tightened. His eyes had gone nearly black with lust.

His hand felt sweaty and disgusting on you. He glanced around, checking to see if anyone was watching you both. Then, he pulled off his jacket.

This was your chance.

He used his jacket to cover his lap and pulled your hand under the jacket.

Eww, did this asshole really think you were going to jerk him off in this room full of people.

You just had to find a way to reach into the pocket. You snuck your other hand under the jacket as well, unbuckling his belt.

As you went to move your other hand, you dipped your fingers into the satin pocket. You felt the USB drive against your fingertips.

Suddenly, Henry appeared in front of you. “Mr. Waters, what an honor it is to meet you.” Henry said, reaching forward to shake his hand. Elias jumped away from you, pulling his jacket with him.

You’d missed the USB drive by a millimeter. Neither you nor Henry was oblivious to the way Elias buckled his belt again under the safety of his jacket, before slipping his jacket back on. But, you both pretended to not notice.

“Me and Mr. Waters were actually just about to leave. We have some business to attend to.” You said, directing your gaze towards Elias. He seemed excited by your implication.

You’d gotten so close, and you weren’t going to let Henry screw this up for you. “Yes, that’s correct.” Elias said, slipping his arm around your waist.

Henry put his hand out to stop Elias. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you. I’ve heard rumors about her. She’ll promise you a good time, and you’ll have one. I’ve heard she’s phenomenal in bed, but you’re having less fun when you learn she recorded the whole thing. Then, she threatens to expose you unless you pay her.” Henry lied on the spot.

Elias retracted his arm from you— his face growing more concerned.

“How about you mind your fucking business?” You finally snapped at Henry. His eyes went wide at your sudden outburst. You both were usually a bit more covert about your feud, especially when you both were undercover.

“I’d like to see you make me.” He shot back. He was never one to let you have the last word.

While you both were busy yelling at each other, Elias slowly snuck away from you both. He didn’t want to get caught up in any of that mess.

Your volume kept increasing, drawing the attention of the security guards. You noticed a few of them starting to walk towards you both.

You beelined towards one of the back exits. “Oh, so you’re just leaving because you’re losing the fight?” Henry mocked you, following right behind you.

You ignored him, slipping into one of the employee hallways for caterers and such. The door slammed open as Henry followed.

“God, you’re so fucking annoying. Don’t fucking start a fight if you can’t finish it.” He yelled down the hallway at you.

“Security is following us, you dickhead. You want to maybe stop whining like a baby?” You flicked him off as you snapped at him.

“Oh shit,” he mumbled, increasing his pace as he jogged to catch up with you. He’d been so distracted by you that he hadn’t even noticed. Something about you made him feel rage throughout his entire body— and it’s all he could focus on.

The hallway came to a dead end, where you could either turn left or right.

You quickly turned right, but you heard Henry’s footsteps getting further away. You snapped your head around to see him going the opposite direction.

“Hey, you fucking idiot.” You grabbed his collar and pulled him towards you. He was about to swat you off of him, when you pulled him into a small broom closet.

“What’s your fucking plan now?” He yelled at you, cluelessly.

God, he hated you. Always acting like a know-it-all and getting him into messy situations. At least, he thought hatred was the word for the fire in his stomach when he saw you.

You looked around the room, hoping for something you could use. “They’ve got to be a few seconds behind us.” You said, grabbing his arms and tugging him towards the one empty wall.

You pressed your lips against his, backing up against the wall with a loud thud. He was in shock. He was hoping for a cover story that was a little bit more complex.

“Kiss me like you fucking mean it, not like a wet noodle,” you hissed at him. He groaned into the kiss as his hands grabbed your hips authoritatively. “How are they going to know we’re in this room?” He mumbled against your lips.

You pulled out of the kiss for a second, covering his mouth with your hand. “Oh, fuck me, baby,” you called out— your voice was whiny and high-pitched.

His pants started to feel tight, imagining for a second that you weren’t faking it.

He quickly kissed again— hungrily this time. You laced your fingers through his hair, tugging softly on the black curls.

The footsteps outside the door were getting closer. He cockily smirked against your lips, letting his hands slip down to cup your ass. You didn’t complain as he pressed his entire body into you.

Then, the door swung open.

You pulled out of the kiss. You quickly covered your face with your hands, pretending to be embarrassed. “Oh no, were we disturbing someone?” You asked, faking sympathy.

The security guard wasn’t sure what he was looking at. “We’re on our honeymoon. I’m sure you understand.” Henry lied. Your hands clung to his collar.

“This a restricted area. Just make sure to leave as soon as you’re…done.” The guard said, awkwardly backing out of the room and closing the door.

You instantly retracted your hands from Henry. “Gonna admit that I actually had a good idea? Or would that bruise your ego too much?” You asked, cocking your head to the side.

He scoffed, looking down at you. “If you’re full of such good ideas then I’m sure you got the USB drive.” He said, knowing full well that you didn’t. You huffed, crossing your arms.

You didn’t know what it was about Henry that made you want to pull his hair out.

“I was about to, until you came over and interrupted.” You snapped back. He just chuckled and rolled his eyes— he was always condescending.

“You were about to arrested for indecent exposure. The security guards were aware of the secret little handjob you were about to give Elias Waters. I interrupted to save your ass.” He corrected you.

Had he really been protecting you?

“Am I supposed to be honored? If I got arrested, they’d know there were agents at the gala. They’d recheck everyone’s identifications and you’d be screwed as well. Don’t play the hero card, it doesn’t suit you.” You said.

He was at a loss for words. He glared down at you.

“You know, you can take your hands off my ass now.” You brought his attention to the fact that he still had his hands cupping your ass.

For a split second, there was a break in Henry’s facade. For a split second you saw the embarrassment on his face— for once, a real emotion. Not some fabricated bullshit.

“Oh, fuck you,” he said, pulling away from you and walking to the other side of the closet.

He stood directly across from you, staring daggers into your soul. “How long you think we have to wait in here?” He finally broke the silence.

“Well they think you’re fucking me, so we have to make it believable. You normally last…what? Five minutes? Or is that an overestimate?” You asked, your voice was laced with contempt.

He clenched his fists at his sides. He loathed the way you tore him to shreds, all while using a sweet innocent voice.

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” he said, letting your imagination soar. Henry knew you were just saying it to wind him up— but it worked every time. You knew just how to push his buttons.

“If you fuck like you kiss, I’d rather not know actually.” You lied. His blood was boiling. You actually enjoyed watching how easy it was to get under his skin.

“You’re a fucking bitch.” He swore, licking his lips.

“And you’re a dick, what else is new? I’ve never claimed to play well with others.” You snapped.

“Whatever. I’m going to back to the motel. I’ve had enough of your shit for tonight. Now, I have to go tell my boss that you’re the reason we lost the USB drive.” He said, shoving past you and storming out the door.

You couldn’t stand him. But why did your mind keep replaying the way his tongue had slipped into your mouth?

After doing another scan for Elias, you headed back to your motel— the same motel Henry was staying at. Agencies had a habit of booking the shittiest accommodations available.

Your agency had also told you where he was staying. You both showed up to so many of the same missions that you were forced to keep tabs on each other.

So, that was why you knew Henry was currently sitting in room 429 at the motel. And why you beelined there instead of your own room.

You slid a paper clip into the lock, effortlessly unlocking it and slipping inside.

Henry was sitting on the side of the bed— looking disheveled. He’d ditched his suit jacket and bow tie. And the first three buttons of his dress shirt were undone, exposing his chest to you.

“So, we’re not even fucking knocking now?” He questioned as his eyes met yours.

You didn’t respond. Instead, you crossed the room, standing right in front of him. You stared down at him.

You found yourself debating what you were doing in his room at all. That little voice in the back of your head had won you over. The logical part of your brain was screaming at you.

“Can I help you?” Henry asked, sarcastically. He could feel the excitement bubbling in his chest at the sight of you, but he didn’t know why.

“Can you keep a secret?” Your voice came out just above a whisper. It was a startling difference to the way you’d been screaming at Henry earlier in the night.

“Kinda do it for a living, sweetheart.” Henry responded, the pet name sounding malicious as it rolled off his tongue.

It was now or never.

You straddled his lap and then your mouth was on his. The kiss was hungry and urgent— like if you waited any longer, you’d lose the courage. He didn’t waste any time kissing you back.

Kissing you soothed that fire that he felt in his belly.

You ran your fingers through his hair, roughly tugging on it. He groaned against the kiss. His hands found their place on your hips, digging his nails in so hard that he’d leave bruises.

He was tired of seeing you flirt with powerful men. He knew it didn’t mean anything but he didn’t want anyone else’s hands on you except his.

You were an enigma that confused Henry. Because why did he hate your guts but also have such a strong urge to rearrange them?

You hastily unbuttoned the rest of Henry’s shirt, pushing it off his shoulders. His hands found the zipper behind your back, unzipping it without breaking the kiss.

You climbed off his lap for a second, so you could step out of your dress and let it fall to the floor.

A tent started to form in his pants as he took in your lacy black bra and panty set. “How dare you look this fucking good while being such a pain in my ass?” He groaned as he bit down on his bottom lip.

You took another step towards him. You noticed him starting to breathe faster. You felt powerful standing in front of him like that— knowing you had him in the palm of your hand.

You rested your forearms on his bare shoulders. The way his muscles flexed underneath you made you squeeze your thighs together. “If I’m so insufferable, I can leave.” You whispered, taunting him.

“Don’t you fucking dare.” He growled. He flipped you onto the bed, crawling on top of you.

His mouth melded against yours, letting his teeth graze your bottom lip. There was no gentleness or hesitancy in his touch— just pure unconfined hunger.

His calloused fingers ran up and down your stomach, hooking into your panties and ripping them off your body. Your bra was next as his hand swiftly snuck behind your back.

You propped yourself up on your elbows, watching as he hurriedly undid his belt and kicked off his pants and boxers.

“You can pretend you hate me, but I see how hard your dick is and I know you had a hard on when I kissed you in the closet.” You teased, as you waited for him to touch you.

You’d say anything if it meant you’d rile him up and get him on top of you.

“Gonna teach you how to fucking behave,” Henry snapped, shoving your legs apart. His fingers dug into your hips, lining up his cock with your entrance. Your mouth fell open as he buried his cock inside you.

A needy moan fell from your lips. “Look at you falling apart on my cock.” He teased you. You grasped at the sheets, balling them up in your hands. He sped up his pace, pounding into you. His entire weight pushed into your body with every thrust— fucking you into the mattress.

He nipped at your earlobe, earning a squeal from you. His lips ghosted over your ear, deep grunts falling from his lips.

Henry could pretend to hate you all day long, but he couldn’t pretend that the way you were squeezing him was anything less than heavenly.

“Such a fucking tight little cunt— so greedy. Taking me so well,” he grunted.

The way Henry fucked you was primal— like he’d had to keep his hands off of you for too long. And all the long nights of seeing you undercover at galas in dresses that perfectly fit your body was catching up to him

You wrapped your legs around his waist, letting him push deeper inside you. His cock rubbed against your clit, making you gasp. “Right there, oh fuck,” you threw your head back against the pillow.

He braced his hand on the headboard, using it as leverage. The bed creaked under the force of his thrusts. You couldn’t hear the sound of the wood cracking over the slick sound of his cock slamming into you.

You scratched your nails down his back. He groaned under your touch. “You gonna cum? You gonna drench my cock?” He asked, sensing that you were close.

The bed banged against the wall. If that hadn’t alerted your neighbors, the loud moans falling out of both of you did. “God, oh fuck, need to cum, need it,” you begged him.

He slammed his sweaty hips into yours. The coil in your stomach burst. You screamed out his name. He grabbed your hips pulling you up into his cock, using your body like a toy. He stilled his hips, thrusting you on and off his cock.

The overstimulation made your vision go white. “Fuck, Hen— it’s…too much,” you cried out. He grunted in your ear before his hips snapped against yours and his seed came spilling out.

He collapsed against you, dick still shoved inside you. Neither of you had the energy to move.

“You might be an asshole, but god, you know how to fuck.” You panted, running your hand up and down his bicep.

“You ready for another round or do you need a minute?” He teased. You both knew you were in trouble with your bosses for losing the USB drive, but inside those four grungy walls, you could ignore that problem.

When the night was over, there wasn’t a single surface in that room that Henry hadn’t fucked you on.

taglist: @laurakirsten0502 @miraclesoflove @nathaliabakes @millipop18 @lillyssh-tposts @shyinadarkplace @vanteguccir @missroro @guiltandguitarstrings @sw33t-cupid @ice-dtae @leyannrae @sia2raw @nyx2021 @just-a-littlebit-of-everything @shyconversationalbookworm @shadowhuntyi @iamavailablesstuff @superdeath @wandaswifeyforlifey @spookyqueen @mcuswhore  @astheskycries @n3ssm0nique @peakascum @cjand10 @namsey1987 @supernaturalstilinski @stephv213 @warriormirkwood @one-sweet-gubler @narliesstuff @bibissparkles @stupiidfrogs @navs-bhat @marvelcasey05 @velyssaraptor @amanda08319 @moonlightaura03 @kleinegamerin @henryownsme @linkpk88

Let me know if you want to be added to my taglist for all my fics or for a specific character/fandom!!

[rocknroll7575]

X men au

*Marvel rivals*

Magneto: AH Jaune good to fight with one of my most loyal brothers

Jaune: I would rather fight Galactus alone than join you* 10 9 8* and the only reason I even Interact with my version of you is cause you deserve to know your grandchildren

Galacta: GO

Magneto: MY WHAT

Ok... now You've made me do Jaune Marvel Rival interactions:

~~~ ~~~ ~~~

Magneto: What are my grandkids like, Jaune?

Jaune: Heh, there a handful, but Wanda's able to handle them

Magneto: Are you not able to take care of them in your world?

Jaune: No, its just that with their mutations, I'm lucky to still be alive, haha! Taking care of Mutants children is way harder than Mutant teens!

~~~ ~~~ ~~~

Jaune: Logan? That really you!?

Logan: Yeah, it's me kid, why you lookin so suprised?

Jaune: Oh! Its uh... you just look a lot smaller then I remember...

Logan: What does that mean, huh?

~~~ ~~~ ~~~

Emma: Do you think that Scott...?

Jaune: Don't think it Emma, he's gotta be ok, he's faced worse odds then fighting vampires

Emma: I know, I just... I worry

Jaune: I know you do, Emma...

~~~ ~~~ ~~~

Jaune: Heh, never thought I'd see the day you'd be working with Peter, Eddie

Venom: We have embaraced our role as a protector yet the spider seems to still distrust us...

Jaune: Can you blame him? You did try to kill him... mutiple times I might add

Venom: Tried is the key word

~~~ ~~~ ~~~

Peni: Wow! Your powers are amazing Jaune!

Jaune: Thanks Peni, your Mech is pretty cool too, way more advanced than anything my world has!

Peni: I'd love to see what kinda tech you have in your world, I would love to see what it's like

Jaune: Heh, maybe one day Peni, hopefully, Reed'll be able to take me home someday

~~~ ~~~ ~~~

Groot: I am Groot

Jaune: Names Jaune Arc, nice to meet you big guy

Groot: I am Groot

Jaune: ...uh, you already said that

~~~ ~~~ ~~~

Jaune: Never thought I'd see you here Ben!

Thing: Heh, me too kid, though I gotta ask... you ain't a vampire, are ya?

Jaune: Ben, do I look like a vampire to you?

Thing: Don't know... I'm half expecting you to sparkle in broad daylight

~~~ ~~~ ~~~

Johnny: Hey Jaune! Didn't expect to see you here man!

Jaune: Good to see you Johnny, how are you dealing with... all this?

Johnny: Eh, seems like just another problem for Reed to solve, Hey! Met any hot babes lately?

Jaune: I'm happily married, Johnny...

~~~ ~~~ ~~~

Wanda: I'm worried Jaune... with both of us here, who's looking after the children?

Jaune: I don't know Wanda, but hopefully it's Scott or Rogue, at least they can be responsible

Wanda: What about Lorna?

Jaune: Honey, no offense, but the last time your sister babysat, she got them and her trapped in the danger room.

~~~ ~~~ ~~~

Susan: Jaune, I see you brought Emma with you

Jaune: Don't worry Sue, I'll keep Emma in line,

Susan: Good, you're one of the only people she'll listen too, how do you do it?

Jaune: seven sister's remember?

~~~ ~~~ ~~~

Black Widow: Arc? That you kid?

Jaune: Hey Natt, why'd you look so surprised to see me?

Black Widow: Just... it's good to see a familiar face after so long

Jaune: It's good to see you too Natt, I hope the future's treating you well

~~~ ~~~ ~~~

Jaune: Hey, we're cool, right big guy?

Hulk: Hulk has no problem with Arc, but Hulk still remembers prank you and Parker pulled

Jaune: Aw, come on, can't we live and let live?

Hulk: Yes, but Hulk will get you back

~~~ ~~~ ~~~

Hawkeye: Heh, a knight and an archer, aren't we a pair?

Jaune: You said it, Clint! Let's just hope that aim of yours is still as good as I remember it

Hawkeye: Haha! Unlike your aim, mine's always perfect

Jaune: Hey, I've gotten better!

~~~ ~~~ ~~~

Jaune: How are you hanging Buck?

Bucky: I've been taking your advice kid, trying to keep moving forward

Jaune: It's hard, but it's what we gotta do, just to keep fighting the good fight

Bucky: Funny, you almost sounded like Steve there for a second

~~~ ~~~ ~~~

Jaune: Hey there little guy... Haven't seen Gwen for a while, everything alright?

Jeff: *sadly purring*

Jaune: Well, hopefully we can find her in all this mess bud, we all miss her

Jeff: *hopeful growling*

[synity]

INKBOUND

(Mafia Boss Lee Seokmin x FemReader)

Dark Romance, Thriller, Mafia AU, Strangers-to-Lovers, loyalty, betrayal, elegance, and bloodshed, slow-burn

content warning: This story contains themes of organized crime, violence, emotional trauma, grief, loneliness, and morally grey characters. It also include mentions of blood, death, cigarettes, and power dynamics that some readers could find triggering. Please proceed with caution.

The city didn’t sleep, but it bowed its head in silence when he walked through its veins.

Rain whispered against the windows of the Rosecourt building an opulent skyscraper nestled in the heart of the Eastern District. The penthouse glowed dimly, shades drawn, liquor glistening in crystal decanters, but nothing dared to shimmer more dangerously than the man seated behind the mahogany desk.

Lee Seokmin.

A name spoken like a warning and hope in equal parts.

He was calm. Always calm. But underneath that calm lived a precision that made even seasoned men tremble. Every move was calculated, every silence deliberate. Yet his men followed him not because of fear alone there was respect, unwavering and brutal. Because when Lee Seokmin promised protection, he delivered. When he swore vengeance, blood ran down the streets.

“Boss.”

He looked up.

His second-in-command, Myungho, stood at the doorway, soaked from the rain but unsmiling, eyes tense.

“They tried again.”

Seokmin’s gaze didn’t waver. “Which ones?”

“The Bertram remnants. In Busan.”

A flicker of irritation danced in his otherwise tranquil expression. “I buried their name three years ago.”

“They forgot that, apparently.”

Seokmin stood up. Even in a crisp black dress shirt, no blazer, sleeves folded neatly, he commanded the air around him like a monarch who didn't need a throne to be obeyed.

“I’ll remind them.”

His rise had never been bloody for the sake of blood. That was what separated him from the monsters he crushed. He didn’t delight in pain. He simply didn’t flinch from it.

Orphaned at 9. Lost his older brother at 14 in a betrayal by their own organization. By 18, he’d taken it back. Not with screams but with silence, steel, and eyes that stared straight into evil and didn’t blink.

He rebuilt the Eastern Circle from the ground up, renamed it Ardente "the burning ones." Now, the syndicate operated behind the veil of high-end art auctions, shipping routes, and global tech deals. Clean above the table. Ruthless underneath.

And through it all, Seokmin had one rule: Do no harm to the innocent. Never touch the undeserving.

Which made him unpredictable.

Which made him terrifying.

Because mercy was only granted to those who deserved it. And when he judged that you did not

You disappeared.

In the shadows of Ardente’s ballroom, lit by black chandeliers and veined mirrors, he watched his men celebrate a minor win.

Someone had intercepted a cargo of weapons meant to fuel another gang’s war. Seokmin didn’t flinch at their downfall. He only observed.

From the mezzanine above, glass in hand, he observed a world that never truly belonged to him. Even when he ruled it.

He was… lonely.

But he never let it show.

Because love was a liability.

Because kindness had gotten his brother killed.

Because attachment made you bleed harder.

And yet… somewhere, fate was moving.

Somewhere, a girl with ink-stained fingers and tired eyes from working two jobs would soon step into a world she had no business in.

Not yet. Not now.

But soon.

When her life would crumble.

And he would be the one holding the pieces.

But for now

Lee Seokmin remained untouchable.

A king in a glass tower.

Waiting.

Watching.

Bleeding in silence.

The scent of smoke always lingered longer than the fire.

Lee Seokmin sat in his office, the top floor of a discreet glass tower in downtown Seoul, watching the sun disappear behind the cityscape. A single cigarette burned in his fingers, untouched. He hadn’t smoked it in years but still lit one when memories clawed up from the shadows.

Tonight was one of those nights.

His desk was clear. No blood. No files. Just silence. Until a soft knock echoed on the steel door.

“Come in,” he said.

Myungho stepped in, crisp in a dark navy suit, no tie, hair slicked back. His second-in-command. Loyal since their teen years. And the only one who dared walk in when Seokmin was in this state.

“You lit one again.”

“Didn’t smoke it.”

“You thinking about them again?”

Seokmin didn’t respond. He didn’t need to.

Because yes he was thinking about that night.

The night that broke the last naive part of him. The night he learned that even family could sell you for power. The night his blood ran down the stairs of a home he built with trust.

He had killed them all with his own hands. Not out of rage. But out of lesson.

Loyalty is sacred. Betrayal is final.

“I need to find the leak,” Seokmin muttered, tapping ash into the tray. “One of the new boys is feeding intel to the Russians.”

Myungho leaned against the door. “Already on it. But Seokmin...”

“What.”

“Are you sleeping at all?”

A cold chuckle. “Does it matter?”

It did. Because when Seokmin didn’t sleep, people ended up with broken ribs.

Myungho studied him quietly. The white shirt. Sleeves rolled. Scars peeking just above the wrist. Eyes like wildfire behind glass.

"You know, it’s okay to want more than this."

"More than what?"

"This life. Fear. Control. Power. Maybe… someone to come home to."

Seokmin laughed softly, bitterly.

"That someone doesn’t exist for people like me."

He stood, walked to the floor-length windows. The city lights blinked like fireflies on concrete.

And somewhere down there, a woman who hadn’t entered his life yet was laughing at a joke she’d forget. Walking home with cheap ballet shoes in her bag. Thinking her past defined her.

He didn’t know her name. Not yet.

But fate was stitching their threads already.

Later that night, Seokmin walked into the lower lounge of his estate.

Three of his men stood lined up against the wall. Nervous. One was shaking.

“Turn around,” he said.

They obeyed.

“I’m not interested in excuses. Whoever handed off the port schedule last week you have sixty seconds.”

Silence.

Then trembling lips.

“I—I didn’t mean to, boss. I just—my sister, she—”

Bang.

Gun down. Blood on marble.

Seokmin turned to the other two. “Loyalty is life. Betrayal is death. Understood?”

"Y-Yes, boss."

“Good. Clean it.”

Back in his quarters, Seokmin showered. Blood always clung to his collarbones like guilt.

He stared at himself in the mirror, water dripping from his jaw.

He had everything. Money. Fear. Power.

But he was starting to feel it.

The loneliness that crept in when no one dared ask you how you were.

The ache of knowing your kindness would scare people more than your rage.

He was the King.

But a king needs a home.

And that… he hadn’t found yet.

A cracked phone screen. An expired bus pass. A ballet shoe stitched three times on the side.

That was all Y/N had left of her past—and she was doing her best to pretend that was enough.

At twenty-three, she was the kind of woman people noticed, but never truly saw. Always polite, always helpful, always… invisible. But it was easier that way. The more invisible you were, the less you got hurt. And God, she had been hurt enough.

Her job at the community studio wasn’t glamorous. She taught ballet to children who cried about missing snack time and teenagers who rolled their eyes at every plie. But when the music played and her feet hit the floor, she remembered who she used to be.

Before everything.

Before the family that made her doubt her own worth. Before the father who told her love was earned. Before the mother who only looked at her when she bled.

Now, she lived alone. In a studio apartment with one plant she always forgot to water. Quiet. Clean. Forgettable.

She liked it that way.

Or at least, she convinced herself she did.

Until one night changed it all.

The moon was high when Y/N locked up the studio. Her shoes were in her bag, her playlist was on shuffle, and she walked the streets like she did every other Thursday night tired, but free.

But that night, something felt… off.

A black car. Parked too long at the corner.

A shadow in the alley that didn’t move right.

She clutched her keys tighter, heart picking up. Quickened her pace. The hairs on her neck rose as she heard it a step behind her.

And then

“Hey! You lost?”

A man. Too close. Grinning like a knife. Two more behind him.

She stepped back. “No, I’m just walking home”

“Aw, you sure you don’t want company, sweetheart?”

They came closer.

And then a voice cut through the night.

Deep. Calm. Deadly.

“She said no.”

They all turned.

Y/N couldn’t see his face at first. Just a black coat, black gloves, and the quiet click of expensive shoes. His presence didn’t just demand attention it commanded it.

Lee Seokmin.

He hadn’t meant to be there. He never walked on foot. But tonight, he had needed air and this was the route his feet chose.

The men looked at each other.

“Who the hell are y—”

“I said,” Seokmin repeated, removing his gloves slowly, “she said no.”

It was in the tone. That chilling calm. The one that meant he wasn’t going to repeat himself again.

They ran.

Y/N just stood there, frozen. He looked at her now really looked.

A woman with bruises on her confidence and a storm behind her lashes. Beautiful in a way that wasn’t loud. Just... achingly soft.

“Are you okay?” he asked, voice gentler now.

“I… I think so.”

“Don’t walk home alone again,” he said.

“I do it all the time.”

“Don’t,” he said, more firmly this time.

She nodded slowly. “Thank you.”

He looked at her for a moment. Longer than he should have. Like something inside him stirred and it didn’t scare him the way it should have.

“I’ll walk you home,” he said.

And she let him.

She didn’t know who he was.

He didn’t know her name.

But in the silence between two strangers walking under city lights, something bloomed.

Something sharp and slow and dangerous.

And maybe fate didn’t rush things

But it always made sure the stars aligned when it mattered most.

Y/N didn’t see him again for two weeks.

Not that she expected to.

The night he walked her home, she didn’t ask his name, and he didn’t ask for hers. It felt like a fleeting moment of fate—a kind stranger, a terrifying almost-incident, and a silent promise between two people who didn’t belong in each other’s worlds.

Except…

She thought of him more than she should.

The way his voice made her stop shaking. The calm in his eyes. The rage he didn’t raise, just owned. He wasn’t gentle. But he was careful with her.

And no one had ever been careful with her before.

Lee Seokmin hadn’t stopped thinking about her either.

He didn’t know why.

He’d seen beautiful women before. Dated some. Used others. It came with the territory of power. But none of them stuck not in his mind, and certainly not in his chest the way she did.

There was something about the look in her eyes. Not the fear, but the hurt she carried like a second skin. The way she didn’t ask for help but didn’t pretend she didn’t need it either.

And the quiet strength in her thank you. Like she was used to saving herself. Like he was just a glitch in her survival routine.

He found her name within 12 hours. Address, job, routine he had it all. Not because he planned to use it. But because he wanted to protect her, and in his world, protection meant power.

But Seokmin didn’t approach her again. Not yet. Not until the moment felt right. And he had learned patience the hard way.

Y/N was walking home again, umbrella tucked against the wind. The sky cried harder than she did the night she realized her mother never meant her apologies. The storm soaked through her coat and her socks. Still, she walked.

Then headlights flashed beside her, slow, deliberate.

A black Mercedes.

The passenger window rolled down.

“You’re really committed to getting into trouble, aren’t you?” a familiar voice said.

Y/N blinked. Her heart stuttered.

“You again?”

“You sound disappointed,” Seokmin replied with a small smirk. “Get in.”

She hesitated.

“You sure I’m not trouble myself?”

“I already did the math,” he said. “I’ll take my chances.”

She bit her lip, then slid in.

The car was warm. Leather seats. Music playing low jazz, slow and smoky. He looked different tonight. Less mysterious, more human. Still dangerously composed.

“So what do you do?” she asked after a beat.

“I work in logistics,” he said.

She snorted. “That’s a lie.”

“It’s not,” he replied smoothly. “I just didn’t say what kind.”

Y/N gave him a look.

He smiled wider.

“Transport, negotiation, business management.”

“You’re still lying.”

“Would it scare you if I told you the truth?”

“Probably.”

“Then maybe not tonight,” he said.

They talked the entire ride. About everything. About nothing.

She laughed really laughed and it hit him like a punch in the chest.

He hadn’t heard something so pure in years.

And when he dropped her off, she turned to him with a shy smile and whispered, “Thank you again. You’re kind… in a scary kind of way.”

Seokmin stared at her.

“Don’t mistake what I do with who I am,” he said quietly.

“Then who are you?”

He didn’t answer. Just held her gaze until she stepped out and closed the door.

The engine purred.

The storm outside didn’t matter anymore.

That night, Seokmin called off a hit.

The man deserved to die. But Seokmin was thinking of Y/N’s voice. Her laughter. The way she looked at him like he could be good.

And for some reason, he wanted to be.

Even if only in her eyes.

Y/N didn’t hear from him for three more days.

It bothered her more than she expected.

There were no texts, no sudden car pulling up on the curb, no faint jazz slipping from a luxury dashboard. Just silence. And it left a hollow ache in her chest she didn’t want to name.

Until the envelope came.

Tucked in her mailbox, handwritten in dark ink on creamy paper.

You said you weren’t scared. Let’s find out. Friday. 7 PM. I’ll wait for you at the rooftop. — S.

She read it five times.

The rooftop?

Was this supposed to be cryptic or romantic?

She didn’t know. She only knew she’d be there.

Friday. 6:58 PM.

Her heels clicked along the empty corridor of the high-rise. Floor 32. Wind hummed like a secret behind the metal door. She pushed it open.

The city greeted her.

It glittered like a sea of stars scattered across black concrete. Wind tangled through her hair, cool and quiet.

And then she saw him.

Standing at the edge, coat billowing, back turned.

Like a man who didn’t just own this rooftop he ruled everything below it.

“Hi,” she said, closing the door behind her.

Seokmin turned slowly, his eyes sweeping over her. His gaze paused for a fraction of a second too long on her lips.

“You came.”

“You said you’d wait.”

“That I did.”

He gestured to the small table set near the railing. A candle flickered beside two glasses. Wine poured. Cheese, strawberries, and dark chocolate arranged like an artist’s palette.

Y/N raised a brow.

“A rooftop picnic?”

“I don’t do restaurants,” he said. “Too public.”

“What do you do, then?”

“I prefer knowing all the exits,” he said, voice soft. “And who’s holding the knives.”

She shivered. Not from the cold.

He pulled out her chair, his fingers brushing hers as she sat. It was the first time they touched.

And neither of them breathed for a second too long.

They talked again. But this time it wasn’t about the rain or fear or survival. It was about favorite colors and music, the comfort of silence, childhood dreams that didn’t make it out alive.

She saw a piece of him tonight raw, thoughtful, surprisingly poetic.

But there was something dark beneath it all. Not just his world, but something he carried like a wound under velvet.

Y/N leaned her cheek on her hand, studying him under the moonlight. “Why are you really doing this?”

Seokmin met her eyes.

His voice was quiet. “Because I haven’t stopped thinking about you since the night I met you.”

That stunned her.

“I don’t expect anything,” he continued. “Not your time. Not your touch. I just… I wanted to know if I could still feel something real. If I could want something without breaking it.”

She blinked. Her throat tightened.

“Do you want me?” she whispered.

He stood slowly.

Walked to her side. Paused.

And then, with the softest reverence his fingers grazed her cheek, cupped her jaw. It wasn’t lust. It was longing.

“I want you,” he whispered, “in every way that scares me.”

But danger follows those with too much to lose.

A red laser blinked from the rooftop next door watching. Recording.

And Y/N, still unaware, smiled up at the man who would turn her world inside out.

Y/N hadn’t meant to find the folder.

She didn’t even know she was in danger when she leaned over the wrong file cabinet in her office, searching for printer paper. A manila envelope, unlabelled but thick, had fallen to the floor.

And curiosity had always been her curse.

She opened it. And the moment she saw his name on the file, her breath left her lungs like a betrayal.

SEOKMIN, LEE — alias DOKYEOM Known Affiliations: White Talon Syndicate Territory: Seoul Central + Jeju Involvement: Organized crime, underground trafficking, financial laundering (alleged)

Photos. Receipts. Witness accounts. Her fingers trembled.

This can’t be real.

He’s not like this.

But the name. The date. His face. There was no mistaking it. Her Seokmin the man who knew how she liked her coffee and always kept tissues for her in his car, the man who looked at her like she was the first light in a city of shadows was the mafia.

She slammed the folder shut, her breath uneven.

Her phone rang.

Seokmin.

That Night.

Y/N was waiting before he even arrived.

Her silhouette, rigid by the railing, arms crossed over her chest like she was keeping her ribs from cracking. The night was colder than usual.

Seokmin stepped out of the stairwell, frowning softly.

“I got your text,” he said. “What’s going on?”

“You lied to me.”

His expression didn’t change.

Not a flinch. Not a twitch. That silence that made men cower.

“I found a file,” she said. “With your name. Your face. Your real name.”

Still, he said nothing.

“That’s why you don’t do restaurants?” she scoffed. “Why you know all the exits? Because you’re scared of being caught?”

He walked closer.

But she took a step back.

“I don’t care if you’re a criminal,” she whispered, voice cracking. “I care that you made me feel safe in a world you built on lies.”

“I never lied about how I felt about you.”

“That’s not enough,” she said. “I needed honesty. You gave me roses with knives in their stems.”

Seokmin’s jaw tightened.

“I’ve spent my whole life protecting the things I cared about,” he said quietly. “You’re the only one I didn’t protect from me.”

She left.

And he let her.

But that night, the city held its breath. Because when a man like Seokmin loses something precious he doesn’t sleep. He bleeds.

Two Days Later

She hadn’t answered a single message. He’d sent twelve. Voice notes. Apologies. Confessions he hadn’t even told himself before.

But nothing.

Until he stood outside her apartment door, coat damp from rain, a bouquet of peonies in his hand.

He didn’t knock.

He just stood there.

Until the door opened.

Her eyes were puffy. She’d been crying.

But her voice was small. “Why are you here?”

“Because I still see your face every time I close my eyes,” he said. “Because I can’t protect you from me, but I’d burn the whole world before letting it touch you.”

Tears spilled again. This time from her.

She stepped forward. Hit his chest. Once. Twice. Her fists soft but full of fury.

“You made me love you,” she sobbed, “and then made me question everything about you!”

“I know,” he breathed.

“I hated you for it.”

“I hated me too.”

Then she fell forward into his arms.

And he caught her like something fragile and holy.

They stood there for minutes hours maybe on the threshold of something too broken to be perfect but too precious to lose.

One Week Later

They were... trying.

It wasn’t perfect. The silence sometimes still swallowed them. Y/N flinched when the news showed crime reports. Seokmin looked away when she touched the part of his hand where a burn scar lived one she never noticed until now.

But at night, she still ended up in his arms.

And he always pulled her in tighter.

Because some things didn’t need fixing. Just time.

Y/N’s POV

Seokmin never asked me what I saw in that folder.

Maybe because he already knew.

He didn’t bring up the past, and I didn’t push until I found the ring box in his drawer. Not an engagement ring no, something else. Sleek, black metal. Engraved with an unfamiliar name:

"CHOI YOUNGSOO"

I asked him about it that night.

He went quiet.

Then he whispered, “That’s the name of the first man I ever killed.”

I felt my blood run cold. But not from fear.

From the pain in his voice.

Seokmin’s POV

“I was nineteen,” he said. “And my sister had just turned sixteen.”

Y/N sat across from him, legs curled up under her, a pillow hugged to her chest.

“He was a cop. My sister’s teacher’s husband. He used to come to our neighborhood and… he picked on girls who didn’t have anyone to protect them. She was one of them.”

Y/N didn’t speak.

He didn’t stop.

“I begged my father to do something. He was in the syndicate already, but he said we couldn’t risk war with someone protected by a badge. So I did it myself.”

He held the ring in his palm. It didn’t shine under the light.

“I made it after. As a reminder.”

Y/N leaned forward. Voice soft. “Reminder of what?”

“That there are monsters,” he said. “And I’m one of the few that chose to kill them before they kill us.”

She didn’t cry.

He thought she would.

But she just reached forward and took the ring out of his hand. Held it like it meant something.

Like he meant something.

That night, Seokmin kissed her like he never had before.

Like the blood on his hands meant nothing in front of her warmth.

And she let him because she was starting to understand him.

Even when she wasn’t sure she could forgive what he’s done.

The next morning, Seokmin stood in the middle of the conference room.

He didn’t usually bring Y/N’s name into business.

But she had been seen with him too often. And rumors had begun to spread.

“She is not leverage,” he said, voice low. Deadly. “She is not a tool. Not a pawn. The next man who mentions her name without respect will lose his tongue.”

None of them spoke.

But every man there understood something important:

Their boss wasn’t just a shadow in a throne anymore. He was a man in love. And there is nothing more terrifying than that.

Nightfall

The rain was relentless. The kind that blurred everything—the skyline, the road, the mind.

Y/N never made it home that evening.

She had only left for thirty minutes—wanted to pick up Seokmin’s favorite pastry from that little corner shop he secretly loved but never admitted to. A dumb, soft gesture. A piece of normal in a life of chaos.

And just like that, she disappeared.

Seokmin’s POV

He knew the moment something was wrong.

It wasn’t just that she didn’t call. Or that her phone died.

It was the silence.

The kind that didn’t just ring it screamed.

“Track her,” he ordered.

His voice was like winter steel. Freezing. Sharp. Controlled only by the years of training not to kill on impulse.

When Jihoon arrived at his side, expression pale, phone shaking in his hand, Seokmin already knew.

“It was Lee Sanghwan.”

One of their own.

One of the older lieutenants. A man Seokmin had spared once. Too merciful. Too trusting.

Now Y/N was gone.

And mercy had left the room.

Y/N’s POV

She woke up tied to a chair.

Not bruised. Not bleeding.

But terrified.

There was something worse than physical pain it was uncertainty. The kind that settled under your skin, wormed into your lungs.

Lee Sanghwan stood before her with a crooked smile. “He chose you over the empire,” he said. “I wonder if you’re worth it.”

Y/N didn’t answer.

Because she knew something he didn’t:

He was already dead. He just didn’t know it yet.

Seokmin’s POV – One Hour Later

He moved like a ghost.

Three men were unconscious before they could scream. He didn’t need guns tonight. Just his hands. Just his rage.

He found her tied to a pole in the back of the warehouse, a gag in her mouth and eyes wide with both fear and relief.

He didn’t say anything.

He just fell to his knees in front of her, trembling fingers ripping off the gag.

“You okay?” “I’m—” Her voice cracked. “I’m okay.”

She didn’t cry.

Until he pulled her into his arms.

And then she couldn’t stop.

Back at the Safehouse

He hadn’t let go of her hand the entire ride home.

She was trembling.

So was he.

“Seokmin,” she whispered, eyes rimmed red, “I—why didn’t you tell me it could be like this?”

He looked at her. Really looked.

And for the first time, he let her see the broken in him.

“Because I didn’t want to scare you away,” he murmured. “Because when I’m with you… I’m not him. Not the boss. Not the monster.”

Her breath hitched.

And she touched his scarred knuckles.

“You’re still Seokmin,” she said. “You’ll always be him to me.”

That night, they slept on the couch, limbs tangled, TV flickering quietly.

He watched her sleep.

Because now he knew.

If she ever disappeared again he wouldn’t survive it.

One Week Later

There was a shift in the air.

The kind you feel in your bones before the storm touches the skyline. Seokmin had been quiet since Sanghwan’s betrayal. Too quiet. The mafia boss with a sharp tongue and quicker fists now stood often in front of windows, watching the horizon like it might swallow him whole.

Y/N noticed. She noticed everything.

He hadn't spoken much about that night, about what happened afterward. He hadn’t mentioned the man whose body was found at the edge of the pier his signature etched in the brutal nature of the kill.

But she knew it was him.

Seokmin didn’t talk. He acted.

“We’re being watched,” Jihoon muttered, standing at Seokmin’s side in the meeting room.

“By who?” Seokmin didn’t look away from the files in front of him.

“Everyone,” Jihoon replied. “Since Sanghwan’s body surfaced, the others are circling. Waiting. Smelling blood.”

A pause.

“And the girl?”

A stillness passed between them.

“She’s none of their business,” Seokmin said quietly. But his voice dropped like an executioner’s axe.

“She is now,” Jihoon replied, not unkindly. “You made her the business of every man who hates your empire.”

Seokmin didn’t respond. But something flickered in his eyes like a match dragged across stone.

Y/N’s POV

Y/N hadn’t seen Seokmin all day. Again.

She wandered the halls of the estate, feeling like an outsider in a place that used to feel like a safehouse. A sanctuary. But things were changing. Fast.

Her bodyguard, a kind man named Minho, trailed her silently. She didn’t like the new detail. But Seokmin insisted.

You don’t argue with a man who has scars on his soul deeper than the cuts on his hands.

She found Jihoon by the greenhouse.

“Jihoon?”

He looked up.

Her voice was soft. But the tremble in it was louder than thunder.

“Is he pushing me away?”

Jihoon looked at her for a long time before saying quietly, “He’s trying to protect you.”

“By disappearing?”

“No. By preparing to burn everything down for you.”

Seokmin’s POV

That night, he found her asleep on the leather couch in his office. Curled up in his hoodie. The TV was on low, casting soft light over her face. His heart twisted.

She had no idea what wars were being planned in her name.

No idea what he’d already done for her. What he was still willing to do.

He sat beside her slowly, not waking her.

“I can’t let them touch you,” he whispered to the air, barely breathing. “Even if it means they bleed.”

She stirred slightly in her sleep. Mumbled, “Seokmin…”

His hand hovered over hers.

But he didn’t touch.

Because love, in his world, wasn’t gentle.

It was a battlefield, and she was already bleeding without knowing it.

Two days later, a box arrived at the estate.

Inside was a lock of her hair. And a note:

“Take your dog off the leash, Seokmin. She’s cute. Would hate to see her bark.”

He crushed the box in his hand.

Something feral slipped into his gaze. Something old. Something deadly.

That Night

Y/N found him pacing in the courtyard, hands clenched.

She stepped outside barefoot, despite the cold.

“Seokmin.”

He turned. His eyes were wild storm-choked.

She didn’t speak. Just walked to him slowly and wrapped her arms around his waist from behind.

He flinched. Just for a second.

“Please,” she said, her voice shaking. “Don’t disappear from me.”

He turned.

And this time, he did pull her into his arms. Desperately. Like a man drowning.

“I’ll protect you,” he murmured, burying his face in her neck. “Even if it destroys me.”

She looked up. Eyes brimming.

“But who will protect you, Seokmin?”

And for the first time in a decade, he didn’t have an answer.

Perfect. Let’s go deeper into the storm. The game is no longer quiet.

One Hour Before Dawn

The estate was silent.

Not the comforting kind of silence, but the kind that grips your spine suffocates before you even realize you’re gasping.

Seokmin hadn’t slept. He stood in the war room, fingers tracing the edge of the threat letter again and again, memorizing the curve of the ink like it was carved into his bones.

Jihoon arrived without knocking.

“Park Yongwoo.”

Seokmin didn’t move. But the name settled like frost on iron.

“The bastard?” he muttered.

“He’s back. Rumors say he’s building a ring in the south.”

“And targeting her.”

Jihoon nodded.

“He’s not after your empire, Seokmin. He’s after your heart. He wants to see you beg.”

Something in Seokmin snapped, but it didn’t break. It sharpened.

“He’ll see me bleed first.”

Y/N’s POV

Y/N didn’t know about the box.

She didn’t know that every second she laughed, Seokmin was gathering weapons. That behind every look he gave her, there was fear disguised as discipline.

All she knew was… he was colder again.

She hated it.

At breakfast, she reached for his hand. He didn’t flinch. But he didn’t squeeze back, either.

And that said more than silence ever could.

Two nights later, Jihoon caught Seokmin alone in the courtyard.

“She’s cracking,” Jihoon said gently.

“I know.”

“She’s starting to think you regret her being here.”

“I don’t.”

“Then say it.”

“I can’t.”

Jihoon stepped closer. “Why? Because she’s your weakness?”

“No,” Seokmin whispered. “Because she’s the only thing left that keeps me human. And if they touch her, I’ll never be human again.”

Y/N was walking through the hallway when a hand slipped a phone into her back pocket.

She paused. Looked around.

No one.

The screen lit up.

Hi sweetheart. You smell like fear. Tell Seokmin I said hello. – YW

She dropped the phone. Her legs gave out. Her chest tightened.

Seokmin found her minutes later shaking, pale, gripping the floor like it was her lifeline.

He didn’t ask questions. He just lifted her into his arms and took her to the room.

“I need to tell you something,” she whispered into his shirt.

But he already knew.

He had eyes on her. Always.

Seokmin’s POV

That night, he sat beside her bed while she slept.

She was trembling in her dreams. Mumbling his name.

He felt his own nails dig into his palms.

She deserved peace. Softness. Not monsters and memories.

And yet… she chose him.

That’s what haunted him most.

He leaned forward, kissed the back of her hand. Whispered against her skin.

“You didn’t fall for a man, did you? You fell for a broken god who can’t even give you heaven without blood on the gates.”

Meanwhile… In the South

Park Yongwoo smiled at the photo in his hand.

Y/N stepping out of a flower shop. Alone.

“She’ll be the ruin of him,” he said to his men. “And I’ll be the author of the end.”

He lit the photo on fire.

Great. Time to unravel another layer of secrets.

Three Days Later – The Warehouse Ambush

It was supposed to be a simple recon run.

Seokmin didn’t even wear gloves.

He’d sent Jihoon ahead with a small team. A warehouse drop, routine, untouched for months.

But nothing was untouched anymore.

The moment Jihoon stepped inside, the floor clicked.

Trap.

“MOVE!” Jihoon screamed, but it was too late.

The explosion sent them flying.

Y/N, watching through live cams in Seokmin’s office, saw everything. Her scream ripped through the halls as Jihoon’s feed cut to black.

And Seokmin he didn’t breathe for five seconds straight.

One Hour Later

Jihoon survived.

But two of his men didn’t.

Seokmin found him coughing blood in the backseat, clothes torn, vision blurred.

Y/N ran out barefoot, still in a silk nightgown.

“Jihoon!” she cried.

Seokmin didn’t even look at her. He carried Jihoon inside, barking orders, ripping off his own jacket to stop the bleeding.

Y/N stood frozen. Her hands shook at her sides.

She wanted to help. But no one noticed her. Again.

Y/N sat in the hallway alone. Knees to chest. The house was quiet.

But her thoughts were screaming.

She was nothing here. A shadow. A pet.

She had nothing to offer but quiet concern.

Why did he even bring me here?

She hadn’t seen Seokmin since the incident.

But she didn’t know he was in the basement, interrogating the last traitor who let the leak happen. And by “interrogating,” he meant turning the man’s memories into nightmares.

Seokmin POV

He came upstairs hours later, clothes stained, fingers numb.

But he didn’t go to his room.

He walked straight to the hallway. Something told him to.

That’s when he saw her.

On the floor. Sleeping against the wall like a stranger in her own house.

Something inside him snapped.

“Y/N.”

She woke with a gasp.

“I’m sorry I didn’t know where else”

“Don’t say that,” he whispered. “You belong in my bed. You belong home.”

Tears sprang to her eyes. “Then show me, Seokmin. I feel like a ghost.”

His jaw clenched.

He hated this. Hated how fragile she looked. Hated that his war made her feel invisible.

He walked over, crouched, pressed his forehead to hers.

“I don’t say it enough. But you’re the only part of this world that doesn’t make me feel like a monster.”

And she broke.

Tears flooded her cheeks as she threw herself into his arms.

And for the first time in years, Seokmin let himself cry too.

Meanwhile In A Hidden Cellar, South Gwangju

Park Yongwoo poured himself tea. Smiling.

“She’s unraveling,” he muttered. “And he’s getting sloppy.”

Behind him, someone emerged from the shadows.

A familiar voice.

“She’s starting to remember who she was before him.”

Yongwoo raised an eyebrow.

“Perfect,” he said. “Let’s use that, shall we?”

Seokmin’s bedroom — 3:17 a.m.

The room was dark, save for the faint hum of the city below.

Y/N lay curled under the sheets, her breathing soft, but restless. Sleep hadn’t come easy. Not since the explosion. Not since Jihoon nearly died.

And not since Seokmin held her like she was the only thread keeping him from shattering.

He sat at the edge of the bed now, shirt off, head bowed, bruised knuckles resting on his thighs.

He glanced back.

She stirred, murmured his name in her sleep like a whisper meant only for the shadows.

“Seokmin...”

That sound his name from her lips anchored him.

Slowly, carefully, he lay beside her.

At first, he didn’t touch her.

But then she turned in her sleep, unconsciously reaching for him, hand grazing his chest like muscle memory.

And this time, he didn’t freeze.

He took her hand, kissed her knuckles, and pressed it to his heart.

“You’re not invisible,” he whispered, voice hoarse and low. “You’re the only thing I see.”

Silence answered back. But it was soft. Warm. Not hollow.

Then

Her arms wrapped around his waist. Eyes still closed, tear marks still on her cheeks.

She held him tightly. Desperately.

Like she knew he’d break the moment she let go.

And so, neither of them did.

Not that night.

Not until the sun began to rise, spilling gold over a house full of secrets, scars...

…and love that was just starting to bloom between the cracks.

[gojonanami]

DESSERT BEFORE DINNER ☆ SATORU GOJO

☆ summary: satoru can't wait to have you until you get back from the sister school event, so he convinces you to have "dessert" before dinner. ☆ cw: 18+ only, smut, semi-exhibitionism, bathroom sex, fingering( afab!receiving), oral (afab!receiving), jealousy , god complex gojo, reader is a follow sorcerer at jujutsu tech. ☆ wc: 1,230

“Satoru, we can’t-“ your sentence is cut off as he slips another finger into your dripping cunt. 

“Your pussy seems to disagree,” and his lips curl upwards, satisfied with his work, your messy cunt was weeping all over his fingers, “you’re practically sucking me in,” he groans at the nasty wet sounds his fingers made as they slid in and out, “do you want my dick that badly, sweetheart?” 

“Satoru,” you whine, as his fingers drag down your walls teasing you open, as more of your cum drips down his fingers and onto his wrist. He leans over and licks it off, “we don’t have time for you to get in all your teasing,” you’re looking at the locked door to the bathroom, hearing the faint footsteps of people walking by, “someone could find us,” 

It didn’t help that you were in the middle of a dinner event for after the sister school event, where Satoru had plied you with sweet words and wandering touches, away into a not nearly remote enough bathroom. 

But the strongest sorcerer looks far too unconcerned, with his shit eating grin, as he slips his fingers from you, leaving you empty only for a moment, “thank you for the meal,” he smiles cheekily, before his mouth is lapping at your lips, and he’s not bothering to be gentle or quiet, messily slurping at your pussy and clit, “you’re practically gushing,” he remarks, and you can feel his smirk against your skin, “not that I’m complaining,” he presses one last kiss to your puffy clit. 

“Satoru,” you’re whining now, as he does his belt, buckle clacking as he does, making you lean against the sink, his hands spreading you for him to look at, “hurry up and-“ 

And he slips into you in one movement, splitting you open, as you barely stop yourself from your head hitting the mirror, instinctively covering your mouth to hold back your moans — but Satoru isn’t having any of that. 

He pins your hands with one hand, stopping his movements, “Not having you hold back your beautiful sounds now, can I baby? I want to hear just how good I’m making you feel,” he’s kissing your neck, as he rolls his hips into harshly, making your walls tighten around him, “gotta make sure all those men out there that were ogling you know who you belong to,”

“Is this all because you’re jealous?” You almost laugh, but he rolls his hips into you again, ripping a moan from your mouth. 

“Don’t act like you didn’t want this,” he grunts, his thrusts nearly pistoning in and out of you, “walking around in this sundress that shows enough but nothing at all, you knew what it did to me, and you wanted to end up here under me,” and he’s pulling out to flip you around so you can see yourself in the bathroom mirror, “look at you, so pliant under my touch,” 

And then you hear voices outside the bathroom trying to turn the knob, and he slows for a moment, hearing men’s laughter, he starts to roll his hips, “Fuck-“ you yelp, as he seems to fuck you impossibly harder, “Satoru,” you hiss. 

“Let them hear how good I fuck my baby,” he grins in the mirror, and it makes you grow tighter, and it doesn’t escape his notice, “fuck, you trying to keep this dick inside you, sweetheart? I know it’s good, but I’ll fuck you anytime, you don’t have to keep it,” and you moan his name, “that’s it, keep fucking moaning my name, make them wish that they can see you like this,” and he’s cupping your chin, forcing you to see yourself fucked out, his dick going in and out of you, all spread out, mouth partially open, “maybe I’ll fuck you out there, let them see what they can never have, eat you out as my dinner course and dessert,” 

“Satoru,” you groan, as his hand slips down to your neck, squeezing lightly, as your pleasure begins to climb, the thought of people hearing you slipping further and further away, “more, please,” 

He laughs, almost melodically, “and my innocent girl wants more? After asking me to stop,” and he hums in mock contemplation, “maybe we should stop,” and he starts to slow just as you’re starting to approach your peak, “go back to the party,” 

“T-toru, please,” and he’s pulling out, teasing you with his tip, letting his pre-cum drag and mix against with your cum, “please I need you,” 

“Do you?” He kisses your neck, his teeth grazing against your pulse, “you can get any of those men out there to please you, can't you?” 

And you’re shaking your head, “No I need you, just you, no one would compare,” you’re almost blathering, until he captures your lips again. 

“Tell me you’re mine,” and he’s almost slipping into you again, his tip parting your sloppy folds, as you gasp.

“I’m yours, just yours, please I need you, Satoru—“ you’re nearly begging, pleading for him to fuck you, and you moan as he thrusts you again, splitting you open as he does, “Satoru, my god,” 

“You don’t have to call me god, baby, just Satoru is fine,” and you can’t even roll your eyes, too lost in the pleasure he’s giving you. 

“Close - ‘m close,” you manage, before he’s catching your lips in a sloppy kiss, his fingers slipping down to your clit, “fuck—“ 

“Come for me baby, I need you to scream my name,” and you do as he says, coming hard and fast, slick around his dick only makes him fuck you harder through your orgasm, “come on my perfect girl I need one more from you,” 

“‘Toru,” you don’t get a break as your orgasm just starts to build into another, as his balls slap against you, as he sinks into you deeper and deeper. 

“Fuck, can’t wait to cum in this cunt, made me for me and only me,” he’s groaning, “can’t wait to walk out of this bathroom, you dripping with my cum inside you, sticky and wet, and fucked out, gonna fuck it inside you again in the car ride home, and then have you suck out the rest of my cock,” his hips begin to stutter as you crest once again, about to cum, “gonna cum baby,” 

And you do as he does, fucking you through his orgasm, beginning to slow. He lingers inside you as you two come down from your high, and soon he’s kissing you, your lips, your neck, your collarbone, “My good fucking girl,” he purrs, as he eases out of you, and he groans, watching his cum slip out of you as it does, fucked out, his dick covered in your slick. 

You’re not used to the emptiness before his fingers begin collecting his cum and pushing it back inside you, “Toru,” you whine, as he slips two fingers in with ease, and he’s grinning. 

“Just a moment sweetheart, just got to make sure it stays in there,” and he slips out just as he pulls your underwear back into place, and he’s helping to clean you up, pressing a kiss to your thigh, as you look down at him, leaning your back against the sink now, a dangerous glint in his eyes, “I have to make good on that promise, now don’t I?”

☆ a/n: so this just emerged from my mind after watching the first few episodes of season 2 and starting to read the manga. gojo would absolutely love to do something like this. though he def prefers having you in private :)

[criminallyvenomous]

Anytime, Always - Spencer Reid X Reader (part three)

part two story masterlist

• Plot - When Dr. Reid came to speak at your University, you were thrilled. A big-time F.B.I. agent at your own school, how could you resist? Soon, that wasn’t the only thing you couldn’t resist. Random meet ups and nights together were fun at first, but when he started guest lecturing on a regular? That was a whole new experience.

• Ship - Spencer Reid X Reader

• Fandom - Criminal Minds

• Warnings - Age gap (legal consenting adults), Alcohol, Fluff, Eventual smut, Pining, and of course a warning you might fall for Spence even harder post reading)

• Word Count - 1,322

• A/N - progressing through season eight despite the shitshow that was zugzwang. will most likely end up taking a bit more time before the next post as im still working on finalities and editing of part five, four being a short one with more of an emphasis on showing spencer's friendship with derek (don't ask me or do idc about my love for a good moreid moment of fanart/ fic i am not ashamed). five is going to be some subtle or maybe not so subtle smut idk bro.

~

     It was a stressful eight weeks, midterms were leading to finals and you only got busier. You couldn’t help but think about your night with Spencer in the hotel every now and then. Sure, you had met up with a couple of college guys to pass the time and get some stress relief, but it was nothing like even the tipsiest night with the doctor.

     The two of you texted at least once or twice a week, him checking up on how you’re doing in school and you on his work. He was trying to get as much done with the Bureau as possible, in preparation for his lessened workload after the holidays. He was excited to begin guest lecturing, even working with the Psychology 4000s professors on curriculum and syllabi. Sure, he wasn’t teaching a course entirely himself, but the University had full intentions of soft-launching his return to college and he wasn’t entirely opposed.

     He hadn’t told you this, though. He thought it might make things awkward if you knew he was going to be regularly showing up at your University and maybe even joining your class. He didn’t want to put any sort of pressure on whatever was the two of your’s relationship.

“Hey boy genius, what’re you planning for the long weekend?” Derek asked, it was Black Friday and surprisingly, there wasn’t an urgent case to attend to over the weekend, leading to a break until Tuesday.

“Not sure, probably reading a few books.” Spencer replied as the tech analyst, Penelope Garcia walked towards the two men.

“Babygirl, how about you? How’re you spending your weekend?” Derek looked to his friend.

“Honey, I’ve been thinking about a bottle of wine and a marathon of rom-coms with takeout all week. Wanna join me?” Penelope asked.

“I’ll have to pass, I have a certain lady friend to go see. Why don’t you go visit that lady friend of yours?” He had still yet to let Spencer forget that he knew he went on a date. It wasn’t an often occurrence for Spencer and before he could even respond, Penelope was more than excited.

“Oh my goodness!” She clapped her hands, “Does little Reid have a girlfriend?”

“No, no, no.” Spencer confirmed. “Just a friend.”

“Maybe you should go see this ‘friend’ then. Catch up some.” Derek suggested with finger quotations around ‘friend’.

“Yeah, maybe.”

     It wasn’t the worst idea, that night was great and he’d be lying to say he hadn’t thought about going to see you. He also really enjoyed being in your city and had made a few connections with some professionals at his speech. He might as well message and see if you’re free.

“Hey, what’re you up to this weekend? I’m thinking of volunteering to help out your Psychology Department.” He texted, completely lying. But was it really a lie if he could set something up with a phone call and you’d never know?

     You were on your sofa with your closest friend on campus, Emma. The two of you were watching some random Youtube documentary on a childhood show of yours. You were sharing a bottle of white wine, something about that night made you more interested in the drink. You were on a study break for the day, having exhausted yourselves spending all of Thanksgiving break prepping for finals. You thought about going home to visit your family for the holiday, but it was your final year of undergrad and every test counted.

“I do NOT remember that scene.” She laughed, pointing at the absurd display when your phone buzzed.

“Ugh, is that Dr. Reid? When are the two of you going to just hook up and get it over with?” She asked. You had told her that you guys had hung out after the lecture, to chat F.B.I. and literature. You had not divulged what happened after.

“Yea, it is. He said he might be in town this weekend.” You told her, hiding a smile to the best of your ability.

“Nothing planned, but I can always pencil you in.” You replied to him.

“Great. I’ll be heading over late tomorrow. Sunday at two?”

“It’s a date.” You put your phone under your leg, knowing Emma would pry if she got the chance.

~

“Hey! It’s good to see you.” You exclaimed as Spencer walked up to meet you in your school’s library.

“You too, so where do we start?” He asked. You had offered to give him a tour, since the library had basically become your home.

“First floor is English and History based, second is entirely Mathematics and Chemistry, the rest of the sciences are on the third floor. Oh, and psychology and criminology are on the fourth. All the other majors are scattered across and the arts have their own library.”

“This is nicer than half the libraries in D.C. Is there somewhere we can get a cup of coffee?” He asked, taking your arm and interlacing it with his. You smiled and nodded.

“Down the hall.” You brought him over to the student café. He ordered himself a vanilla latte that he added way too much sugar to, and you got a Chai latte with cinnamon for the ‘fall ambiance’.

“So, what have you been up to? I know we texted a bit, but as you know, I’m a bit of a techno-phobe.” He joked and the two of you shared a brief laugh as you walked towards the elevator. You had mentioned the Criminology department had a whole set up for his colleague, David Rossi’s novels and he was curious to see.

“Oh, you know, school’s kicking my ass. But, I can’t lie, seeing you’re handsome face is helping with the stress.”. You chuckled and took a sip of your drink.

“Thank you so much.” He laughed awkwardly as you entered the elevator, pushing the button. “You know, you’re quite attractive yourself.”

“You wouldn’t happen to be staying at the Marriott again, would you?” You asked, raising an eyebrow suggestively with a half-smile/ half-smirk.

“I am indeed.” He smiled back, remembering what he could of that night. You entered the fourth floor and walked him over to the infamous Rossi display.

“Oh my god.” 

“I know, right?” 

     There was a cardboard cutout of his senior next to a well thought-out displaying of his novels. You assumed this was due to your Dean’s friendship with the guy, but it was still strange. Spencer took a photo of the display and texted it to the work group chat he hesitantly agreed to join following Penelope’s invitation. Half the time he wish he had refused, like Hotch.

“Look who it is.” He messaged.

“No way!” Penelope replied almost immediately.

“Did you pose for this?” Derek sent.

“It was for a book tour years ago. I can’t believe it’s still in circulation.” Rossi replied.

     Spencer laughed and showed you his phone, which elicited the same reaction from you. 

“Here, let me get a photo of you with it.” You took out your phone and he did a little pose pointing to Rossi and making a dumb, but cute face. “This is great! I’ll send it to you.”

The rest of the library tour went well, Spencer listed countless facts and statistics about different authors and books and you couldn’t help but eat it up. 

“What do you want to do next?” You asked him, tossing your empty cup into the trash bin outside the library.

“There’s a Russian film playing at the Blue Theatre that covers a series of puppets that become human and hunt down their creator.” He said without a thought.

“That actually sounds interesting, I won’t lie.” You laughed and he smiled. “But, we could get some Chinese food and relax?” You suggested.

“Oh, yeah. Finals are next week, you’re probably exhausted. How about we order to-go and head to my hotel?” He offered.

“That sounds perfect, thanks Spencer.”

part four

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Madeline Ashby’s ‘Glass Houses’

I'm coming to BURNING MAN! On TUESDAY (Aug 27) at 1PM, I'm giving a talk called "DISENSHITTIFY OR DIE!" at PALENQUE NORTE (7&E). On WEDNESDAY (Aug 28) at NOON, I'm doing a "Talking Caterpillar" Q&A at LIMINAL LABS (830&C).

Glass Houses – published today by Tor Books – is Madeline Ashby's terrifying technothriller: it's an internet-of-things haunted house story that perfectly captures (and skewers) toxic tech culture while also running a savage whodunnit plot that'll keep you guessing to the end:

https://us.macmillan.com/books/9780765382924/glasshouses

Kristen is the "Chief Emotional Manager" for Wuv, a hot startup that has defined the new field of "affective computing," which is when a computer tells you what everyone else around you is really feeling, based on the unsuppressible tells emitted by their bodies, voices and gadgets.

"Chief Emotional Manager" is just a cutesy tech euphemism for "chief of staff." The only person whose emotions Kristen really manages is Sumter William, the boyish billionaire CEO and founder of Wuv. Sumter hired Kirsten because they share a key developmental trait: both were orphaned at an early age and had to raise themselves in a media spotlight.

Both Sumter and Kristen had been in the spotlight even before their parents' death, though. Sumter was the focus of the intense attention that the children of celebrity billionaires always come in for. Kristen, though, was thrust into the spotlight by her parents: her prepper cryptocurrency hustling father, and her tradwife mother, whose livestreams of Kristen's childhoods involved letting the audience vote everything from whether she'd get dessert after dinner to whether her mother should give her bangs.

Kristen's parents died the most Extremely Online death imaginable: a cryptocurrency price-spike sent her father's mining rigs into overdrive, and when they burst into flame, the IoT house system failed to alert him until it was too late. The fire left Kristen both alone and horribly burned, with scars over much of her body.

Managing Sumter through Wuv's tumultuous launch is hard work for Kristen, but at last, it's paid off. The company has been acquired, making Kristen – and all her coworkers on the founding core team – into instant millionaires. They're flying to a lavish celebration in an autonomous plane that Sumter chartered when the action begins: the plane has a malfunction and crashes into a desert island, killing all but ten of the Wuvvies.

As the survivors explore the island, they discover only one sign of human habitation: a huge, brutalist, featureless black glass house, which initially rebuffs all their efforts to enter it. But once they gain entry, they discover that the house is even harder to leave.

This is the setup for a haunted house story where the house seems to be an unknown billionaire prepper's IoT house of horrors. As the survivors of the crash suffer horrible injuries and deaths on the island, the remaining Wuvvies bolt themselves inside, setting up a locked-room whodunnit that runs in parallel.

This is a fantastic dramatic engine for Ashby's specialty: extremely pointed techno-criticism. The ensuing chapters, which flip back and forth between the story of Wuv's rise and rise to a top tech company, and the company's surviving staff being terrorized on a paradisaical tropical aisle, flesh out Ashby's speculation and the critique it embodies.

For example, there's the political culture of Ashby's future America. Wuv are a Canadian company, headquartered in Toronto, and we gradually come to understand that Canada is the beneficiary of an exodus of tech companies from the US following a kind of soft Christian Dominionist takeover (Kristen and Sumter often have to wrangle rules about whether women are allowed to enter the USA in the company of men they aren't married to and who aren't their brothers or fathers).

The flashbacks to this America are beautifully and subtly drawn, especially the scenes in Vegas, which manages to still be Vegas, even amidst a kind national, legally mandated Handmaid's Tale LARP. Ashby uses her futuristic speculation to illuminate the present, that standing wave where the past is becoming the future. Like everything in the shadows of a haunted house tale, this stuff will make the hair on the back of your neck stand on end.

I'm a big Madeline Ashby fan. I have the honor of having published her first story, when I was co-editing one of the Tesseracts anthologies of Canadian SF. I've read and really enjoyed every one of her books, but this one feels like a step-change in Ashby's career, a leveling up to something even more haunting and brilliant than her impressive back-catalog.

Madeline and I will be live at Chevalier's Books in LA on Aug 16 as part of her Glass Houses tour:

https://www.eventbrite.com/e/book-talk-madeline-ashbys-glass-houses-tickets-965286486867

Community voting for SXSW is live! If you wanna hear RIDA QADRI and me talk about how GIG WORKERS can DISENSHITTIFY their jobs with INTEROPERABILITY, VOTE FOR THIS ONE!

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/08/13/influencers/#affective-computing

[stardusthuntress]

Shark Week

TBB x afab!reader (no clone-cest) 

Word count: ~1.1k (short but sweet this time)

Summary: periods suck, but the bad batch is here to help! No smut this time, just comfort from the bestest of bad boys!

A/N: So, I'm on my period (ow), and I wish the batch was here to help... so let's pretend they are! Periods are a roller coaster, so for those who have to deal with one and need a hug from the best bad boys when it gets bad, this is for you! I wrote this as though all the men sorta have a crush on the reader, but it’s not too suggestive, so interpret it however you want! 

also, I know I'm the worst at keeping to a predictable writing schedule which makes it hard for people to keep up with my fics when they are posted. And I do remember that I promised more fun with the Right Attire series before anything else - turns out those ones are harder to write than I expected! I promise those are in the works! For now, have a sweet little period comfort fic instead!

Mando’a: 

Mesh’la = Beautiful 

dividers by @/djarrex

“What’s wrong with you?” Wrecker asks as they return from a market trip and find you curled into a ball around a heating pad, head tucked into your knees, groaning on the couch with a container of pain meds, an empty ice cream container, and an assortment of tissues and tissue boxes scattered across the nearest counter. 

All the gents pause for a moment. 

“Sabotaged by my baby box…” your voice mumbles from around the pillow you’re currently squashing between your lap and heating pad, unwilling to uncurl to do so. 

“Ah, I see.” Says Tech, redirecting his steps from the workbench in the main room to the outdoor one, knowing you like quiet when the pain grips your internal organs like this. 

Echo heads straight to the kitchen and starts filling a water bottle. 

Hunter sits down next to you and leans you against his side, rubbing your back. 

“What?” Asks Wrecker, genuinely confused. 

Crosshair chuckles from where he’s leaned against the doorway to the kitchen, and shifts his toothpick to answer. “She’s on her period, Wrecker.” He states it blatantly, much to your dismay. Not that you didn’t just say the same thing in different words, but somehow it’s the delivery that just grates on your nerves. But before you can spiral down that rabbit hole, Wrecker’s voice drags you from your emotional reverie. 

“Ooooooohhhhh…. Uh…. Want me to make you a nest?” Wrecker tries. 

Echo emerges from the bedrooms, slightly cool water bottle in hand, bowl of fruit under his arm, and a blanket draped over his shoulder, and Tech hot on his heels. “She’s not a bird, Wrecker.” 

“Mmmmm, yes please Wreck,” you mumble again, this time from Hunter’s shoulder. 

Echo chuckles fondly, “Maybe you are our little bird today.” 

“Actually,” Tech’s finger is in the air as he spouts facts, “many mammals also have nesting tendencies. Sometimes it is a child rearing tactic. In many cases it is lumped in with a group of behaviors or time of year, for example hibernation. There is also—“ 

Chuckling fondly at Tech’s incessant fountain of knowledge, you stretch a hand towards your water bottle on the counter, only to have Tech snatch it away as he stops chatting at you. 

“Hey!” You protest, hand going limp on the edge of the table in frustration with a moan of disdain. 

“That one’s empty, here,” Echo gently offers, sliding the one he’d just filled into your hand and sitting on your other side. 

He and Hunter help you sit up without uncurling to drink the water. 

Tech reappears, having deposited the empty water bottle into the kitchen. He stands in front of you with your favorite fuzzy socks, headband, and salty snacks, and a napkin so you can eat where you are. 

You give a tired smile, relaxing a bit as they all take the time to help you through the pain. “Thanks guys.” 

“We’re not done just yet,” Hunter says, placing a kiss on your temple as he stands up. 

You groan at the loss of one of your favorite heaters. 

“He will be right back,” Echo whispers into your other ear, pulling you closer. 

You hum in answer again as you relax into him. 

“Back already,” Hunter plops down beside you again. 

You grumble in protest as your comfy seat bounces in response. 

“Sorry,” he whispers against your shoulder, his hand sliding into yours. But instead of simply intertwining his fingers with yours you find yours getting wrapped around a crinkly package. 

You look down at it, confused, until you notice what it is… your favorite chocolate. 

“Hmmmm, you guys spoil me,” you mumble back. 

“Hmm, not enough,” he and Echo tell you, wrapping you in the blanket Echo brought and rubbing any part of you that they can reach. 

Tech reappears again, having used his brother’s attention on you to disappear yet again without anyone noticing… that is, except Crosshair, who walks beside him carrying an arm full of books. 

“We were unsure which one you are reading at the present time, or if there are several, but these were the books I kept a record of you mentioning most recently. Crosshair’s idea.” Tech finishes with a finger pointing to the sky, rather proudly. 

Behind them Wrecker appears, almost entirely hidden behind the piles of blankets and pillows he’s collected from your room and his. He pauses, and reshuffles so his mismatched eyes can reappear over the top of the multitude of comforts he carries. 

“Where do you wanna be?” He booms excitedly. He always enjoys building nests. 

“Where she is, Wrecker. Don’t make her move.” Crosshair tells him, with his usual grumpiness. 

Wrecker ignores him, still looking at you with a smile in his eye. 

“Na, we need more space than that. We’re all burrowing in with you, Mesh’la,” Hunter instructs. “Move that and we’ll use the floor.” 

Wrecker uses one foot to move things out of the way until Echo, and Crosshair get up and help. 

Hunter stays put, keeping you upright and warm. 

“My Dear,” Tech purrs, “I need you to simply answer yes or no to these questions so that I may make sure we have all necessary items on hand before we settle in.” 

You nod, laughing feebly, “I think you already have everything, but ok.” 

He lets a small proud smirk grace his lips and launches into a list of symptoms and you diligently answer, knowing he just wants to make you feel better. 

20 minutes later and you’re fed and curled up in the middle of 5 caring men, talking softly as you doze off. Your head is in Hunter’s lap as he massages your scalp and shoulders. Echo has your middle where he’s keeping a constant pressure on the heating pad on your abdomen, his hand massaging where your kidneys are to relieve the tension of your body in overdrive. Tech is massaging your feet through the fuzzy socks. Wrecker and Crosshair are spread out in front of you, keeping you in the center of their circle as Crosshair pretends to focus on what’s going on outside the window. Secretly he’s been unwrapping chocolate to feed you whenever you start to seem uncomfortable again. Tucked beneath your arm as you doze, is the book Crosshair pulled from the pile for you at your request. It’s quickly joined by Lula as Wrecker winks at you as he animatedly tells a story from when he walked Omega to Shep’s house for a sleepover this morning. 

“Sleep,” Crosshair whispers to you around his toothpick, “We’re not going anywhere.” 

Tucked between your favorite men in the galaxy, you drift off to a peaceful, relatively pain free, nap. By the time you fall asleep, one hand is tangled in Crosshair’s loose grip, and one in Wrecker’s. 

Please don’t steal my work! I pour my heart into these so if you like it please reblog to share instead of reposting it! And NO dropping it into an AI to finish it for me! That’s stealing my work and feeding it to an AI without my consent. It is not okay to give an AI something you didn’t write yourself! 

taglist: @cw80831 @kenobidevil @bambambunny

[trishxtrix]

The Bench Across the Street

AO3

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 |

Summary: What if Abby is hurting and forcing Frank to take benzos to “control” his ADHD?

What if few hours after the argument, Frank is brought to the ED on a brink of an overdose and some unexplainable injuries.

TW: Abuse, Overdose, Suicide Attempt

Tags: Dark!Abby | Frank whump | Frank-centric | Miscommunication | Abusive!Abby | abusive relationships | threats of violence | implied/reference child endangerment | is this considered AU? | spousal abuse | men can be victims of abuse too

——————————————————————————————————

Mia

   “How’d the calls go?” Jack’s voice startle me making me jump a little

   “I already have everything set in place. For weeks now actually, just needs Frank to give the green light.” I say standing up straight, trying to shake off the creeping anxiety, not only for Frank but at the thought of talking to people in my old life as a fixer.

   “I can call in someone else for your shift Mia.” Jack offered, not out of sympathy but just the understanding of making and receiving tough calls. 

   I smiled but shook my head no. “I’ll be fine. Not the worst conditions I’ve worked in before, and it’ll be better for me. Can make plans and contingencies for what’s about to happen after the 72 hold is done.” 

   “Don’t do anything stupid or get you locked up, yeah?” Jack quipped offering a fist bump making me laugh.

   “Believe me that won’t be happening in this life or the next.” I say before taking one of the tablets for one of the patients up on the board. 

   It’s a long night ahead.

   Halfway through the shift, a bed opened up at psych and Frank was transferred to their care. Transfer was somewhat hectic, with Frank somewhat resisting and wanting to stay in the behavioral room down here.

Frank

   I hated the ceiling in the behavioral room.

   It was the kind of off-white hospitals painted everything in—like the absence of color could calm chaos. It didn’t. It just made everything feel sterile. Blank. Like I wasn’t supposed to exist here.

   No mirrors. No sharp corners. No window I could even pretend to open.

   Just the hum of the light above me and the stale breath of an institution built to contain people like me.

   I’d been drifting in and out for hours. Enough to feel the Ativan still coating my mouth like acid. Enough to feel every inch of my body ache. Enough to know I was alive, and kind of wish I wasn’t.

   I could hear movement just outside the door—papers shuffling, carts being pushed, someone paging Trauma. And I could hear her voice. Mia. Calm. Commanding. Nearby. I knew something was wrong the moment I heard the wheels.

   The kind they use when they’re moving you. Not checking in. Not coming to talk. Moving you.

   I sat up too fast on the behavioral bed and immediately regretted it, dizziness slamming into my skull like a freight train. My arms were trembling already, like they didn’t belong to me anymore.

   A tech opened the door, bright smile, soft voice. Too soft.

   “Dr. Langdon? We’ve got a room for you upstairs. Ready to transfer you now.”

   “No.” The word left my mouth before I even registered it. “No, I’m not— I’m staying here.”

   The tech blinked, clearly caught off guard. “It’s just a transfer to Psych. Same hold, just in a more appropriate unit.”

    “I don’t care,” I snapped. My fingers curled into the thin blanket. “I’m not going.”

    “It’s okay, sir—”

   “No, it’s not.” My chest was caving in on itself. I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think around the static building behind my eyes. “Don’t fucking touch me.”

   The tech paused. A second nurse came to the doorway, radio clipped to her hip. The subtle shift—reinforcements—wasn’t lost on me. My heart hammered harder. My body moved before I could think about it—I stood, too fast, knocking into the rolling tray. It clattered to the floor.

   “Frank!” someone called from outside, but I barely heard it.

   “I’m not going,” I growled. “You can’t just—just move me like I’m—like I’m some thing—”

   Then her voice. Steady. Familiar.

   “Frank.”

   Everything inside me stopped and stuttered.

   I didn’t want her to see me like this. Not her. Not the one person who still looked at me like I mattered. I wanted to crawl out of my skin. But when she said my name, everything inside me folded. I turned sharply—too sharply. My knees nearly gave out. But she was there.

   Mia.

   Still in scrubs, tired eyes, holding a tablet in one hand like she’d just come off a trauma consult. Her other hand hovered out in front of her, open, not demanding. Just there.

   “Mia,” I choked out. The rage twisted into something rawer, more pathetic.

   “I’m here, okay?” she said gently, stepping into the room like she belonged there more than the walls did. “Hey—hey, look at me.”

   I tried. I did. But everything inside me was shaking. I could still feel the plastic of the Ativan pouch against my palm. Could still hear Abby’s voice in my ear.

   “They’re just transferring you upstairs,” Mia said, closer now, her hand on my arm—light pressure, not control. “You’re still under observation. You’ll be safe there. I’ll come by as soon as I finish my shift.”

   I shook my head, chest heaving. “I don’t want to be alone again.”

   “You won’t be,” she said. No hesitation. “I promise.”

   My breathing slowed a little. Not because the panic was gone—but because hers was the only voice that didn’t sound like a threat.

   She guided me back to sit down, crouched beside the chair while the nurses stood alert in the doorway.

  “I’ll check in soon. You’re not being abandoned. You’re not being punished. You’re healing, okay?”

   I finally nodded. Just once. That was all I had in me. Mia stood up and turned to the tech. “He goes upstairs, no restraints, no sedation. You got me?” Her voice was calm, but it had weight behind it—the kind that didn’t come from a hospital badge. It was the kind of voice that made you follow whatever she ordered, the one that she used on me whenever I started panicking. The one that I’ve come to associate with safety.

  It wasn’t far to the elevator, but every second felt like a lifetime. As they wheeled me down the hallway, the fluorescent lights felt too bright. Too focused. I wanted to disappear into the floor. Wanted to scream. Every beep, every door swiping open, every nurse glancing in our direction made my skin crawl.

   I wasn’t in control. Again.

   And I couldn’t even hide how scared I was.

   I think I asked for Mia again—maybe whispered it. Maybe begged. I’m not sure. The blood was rushing in my ears too loud to hear myself.

   When we reached the elevator, I pressed the heels of my palms against my eyes and held them there. I didn’t want them to see me like this. Pathetic. Fragile.

   The doors opened to the psych ward with a hollow ding. The tech guided me into a hallway that was too quiet, too sanitized. Every door was locked. The lights were lower but somehow more clinical.

   “This way,” he said, like it was just another room.

   But it wasn’t.

   It felt like another cage. Another version of control. Only this one didn’t come with bruises—it came with observation notes and wellness checks and unlockable bathrooms. This wasn’t safety. This was another room with locked doors and voices behind glass. At least with Abby, I knew when the hit was coming. Here? They were smiling while they watched you unravel.

   By the time we rolled into my room, my palms were sweating. The lights in the psych ward buzzed like a warning. The hallway smelled like antiseptic and still air. Not a sound—just the occasional echo of a nurse’s soft shoes and the muted hum of overhead fluorescents.

   I couldn’t breathe right. The walls weren’t closing in—they were just there. Unmoving. Watching.

   “You’ve got a private space,” the tech said like it was a good thing. “Call button’s right here. Nurses check every fifteen.”

   I stared at the bed. Same kind of mattress. Same corners tucked too tight. Same lie.

   “Thanks,” I muttered.

   The door clicked shut. That sound alone made my stomach turn.

  I sat on the edge of the bed, hands trembling like I’d just walked out of a car crash. I pressed my palms to my face, trying to focus, trying to push Mia’s voice back into my ears.

   I laid back, eyes burning. “You’re not being punished. You’re healing.” She said that. I kept repeating it in my head, over and over. Like if I said it enough, I might start believing it.

“You’re not being punished. You’re healing.”

God, I wanted to believe her.

[nocturni3]

Miguel O’Hara x male reader: Daddy appreciation

Top reader

(TW: incorrect Spanish I’m not a Spanish speaker sorry, praise kink, IVF reference, infertility issues, depression, infertility treatment, IVF struggles, fatherhood, anal sex, handjob, body worship, doggy style, becoming parents, celebrating, slight daddy kink, slight public teasing, slight car sex, edging, stomach bulge, breeding kink, submissive headspace)

Months passed since the two lovers became engaged and things couldn’t be better for them both. It was as though things were beginning to look up for both Miguel and M/n as they moved outside the city; away from the loud noises, most of the crime, the stresses of Miguel being spiderman.

After Tyler Stone vanished after his failed attempt at getting his CEO position back from Miguel, Alchemax was slowly turning into a big corporation that began to take the city's poor and lower classes protests seriously. A corporation that both M/n and Miguel could be proud to work for.

With the help of Miguel’s mother as his secretary much to both men’s surprise she was good at both being a threatening force and yet a silvered tongued negotiator. What’s more M/n’s department got more funding to extend a larger hand in downtown clinics and ERs providing them with the newest and safest tech during surgeries, and treating illnesses and diseases that had been neglected by Tyler Stone.

It allowed M/n to move all his major work as head of the medical engineering department to their home; it felt unreal as though this shouldn’t have been possible for Miguel to live happily in a loving relationship with a house, and a ring on both fingers. Spiderman was needed less and less as most of the villains that littered the city were falling back into the shadows with Alchemaxs change of CEO, the change needed for a better future for everyone.

Looking around his new and much larger office that Miguel shared with M/n; he sighs, taking off his tinted glasses as he shuts the hologram screen off; after signing off another approval for the start of a more powerful environmental power grid to be placed downtown. To help clean the pollution and gasses that permeated the air quality.

Rubbing his sore eyes Miguel sighed as he leaned back in his chair, allowing himself to breathe in the smell of M/n cooking them both an early lunch before their doctor appointment. An appointment they both were excited but scared to go too. After all it would be their 5th appointment of seeing if Miguel’s constant supplements had helped any with his sperm count; one of many side effects of his DNA being spliced with a spider. An effect he hated, despised so much that Miguel was losing hope with each failed test, with each failed attempt at fertilizing the donor's eggs; eggs that were running low with each failed appointment.

Miguel had his fair share of breakdowns as this was their best chance to have a kid, as M/n was deemed infertile the second round of IVF. A fact that had broken the two men; a hard fact that had all the pressure placed on Miguel which M/n tried his best to help Miguel through, but there was only so much his love and support to ease the pain and hole forming in Miguel’s chest each time they got the news of yet another failure.

Even with technically advancing the way it has been compared to the early versions of IVF in the early and mid 2000’s to now with the child being grown in a womb like environment eliminating the risk of miscarriage by a large margin.

There was only so much technology can fix when it came to a genetic code being altered in the way Miguel’s has. Only so much injections of enhanced vitamins could do for a body that was genetically modified, only so much it could fix an already broken-

“Miguel hun, lunch is ready! And your medicine too love

Miguel groaned, rubbing his face even more as the knot in his stomachs made it harder for him to want to eat anything. Made the decision to just ignore this one appointment to just wallow in his own self pity; maybe then Miguel wouldn’t need to take anymore injections. Resting his arms on the glass surface of his office table Miguel felt the tired, mental exhausted tears start to purs into his eyes as he tried his best to control the painful knot in his chest at the thought of this appointment being another nail in his self worth.

M/n looked at the still closed door of Miguel’s and his office. Seeing no sign of Miguel coming out M/n whipped his flour covered hands looking at the plate of hot steaming beef and veggie empanadas he had just finished cooking .

A recipe Conchata had given him after the two revealed their engagement to Miguel’s family; who all accepted the fact it was either accept the two for their love of the other or they’d lose Miguel for good.

M/n remembered holding Miguel’s hand throughout the entire exchange. He still held his finances hand through this difficult time in their lives; wanting to have a child to call their own. M/n despised not being about to take all the weight off of Miguel; he wished he could be the one going through the bull of the stress and pressure of these appointments.

But he wasn’t…he was completely infertile; the Lilly hood of him having a kid even with IVF was zero. The least he could do for Miguel was make him as comfortable as he could for as long as the both of them wanted to keep trying.

After all it was ‘through sickness or health, til death’; the ring on his finger made it all a reality. They were starting the next chapter of their lives together. The wedding was all set up, the venue paid for, their suits tailored and ready. They bought a house! But even that wasn’t enough for what their hearts truly craved for a child; a kid they could both raise and watch grow up with two loving parents; far from the toxic lives the both of them had to endure.

They just had to wait and hope that this appointment was anything but good news for them. Placing the dirty kitchen towel on the counter M/n dusted what was left of flours and spices on his shirt. Before making his way to the closed black door of their modern homes office.

A light knock echoed throughout the house as m/n waited with baited breath for Miguel to answer him. Give him time to regain his composure before m/n enters.

Lyla looked over to Miguel who quickly wiped away the stray tears that escaped his normally composed face. She saw how much the two wanted a kid, even going as far as to pick out names ahead of time while planning their wedding. Even though she was sentient now she was still very limited on what she could do to help.

“Miguel”

“Hm”

Lyla forced a smile as she appeared next to Miguel’s shoulder, leaning over to look into his eyes getting his attention.

“M/n made your favorite!”

Lyla smile widen seeing Miguel’s frown turn into a small smile, as he scoffs his face turning a shade of red as he once again mumbled,

“Shock, ¿qué hice para merecer a alguien como él?”

Lyla disappeared and reappeared, informing Miguel, smiling as she pulled at a holo pad tilting her glasses down on her nose as she spoke in a joking assertive voice.

“Ah well let’s see, you and hot stuff over there met, we’re friends for four years and in that same year became boyfriends, then from then on you two dated, kissed, kissed, oh wow looky! Nope, more kissing, proposal and now you two are trying for a kid!”

Lyla froze her small bit hitting a sore subject as she tossed the holo pad over her shoulder listening to it canish in pixels as she turned to see Miguel’s face turn hopeless once more.

“Trying and failing-“

Lyla quickly appeared in front of Miguel shushing him.

“Listen here! And listen closely Miguel, you're not failing! You and M/n aren’t failing at anything, you’ll see Miguel things will start looking up for the both of you-“

A soft knock at the door was heard as M/n’s voice spoke up. His voice was soft, calming, warm as he spoke to Miguel.

“Hun are you okay? Is it okay if I come in?”

Clearing his throat Miguel waved Lyla away who huffed as she disappeared to another part of the house, continuing her installment of security measures.

“You don’t have to ask, this is your office too”

The door Jared opens revealing m/n whose clothes even after his attempt at dusting them off still had flour sticking to his shirt. Miguel smiled at M/n who made his way into their shared office, his eyes falling on the old day of the dead costume now turned spiderman suit that now mostly stayed locked for the time being behind a glass case.

The memories of Miguel saving him from a hostage and mugging, the moments the both of them spent in the other's arms comforting the other. loving each other with all their heart; Looking over to Miguel who began to fidget slightly as he started getting up only for M/n to make his way over to the stressed out man in front of him, placing his hands to Miguel’s tensed shoulders gently pushing him back into the comfortable office chair. Before leaning over the man who's had too much stress placed on his shoulders.

Leaning down M/n smiled his lips grazing Miguel’s, as he spoke his own hands running down Miguel’s muscular shoulders to his thighs massaging the even more tensed muscles. His hot breath landed against Miguel’s now parted lips as his focus turned from the stresses of their appointment to a need for a taste of M/n.

Miguel took in his fiancés appearance, his s/c skin that always seemed to glow anytime Miguel layed eyes on him, his H/l H/c hair that always managed to fall in the right places to frame his handsome features just right; enough to take Miguel’s breath away even after all these years Miguel would somehow still be flustered by the man in front of him.

“I know, but I figured you needed some time to yourself, didn’t want to interrupt your work mr. Sexy CEO”

M/n purred, closing the distance between their lips. Miguel sighed, feeling his entire body feel lighter as his hands reached up to take hold of M/n’s jaw gently rubbing it as they kissed.

The rhythm they kissed, the soft yet yearning for the others lips even after they had pulled away left the two nearly breathless as they stared at the other.

M/n smiled, leaning his face into Miguel’s hand, his own reaching for Miguel’s as they simply took in the atmosphere of this moment. The smell of food filling the air reminded the two of the meal waiting for them. Miguel sighed his face that had once been soft and relaxed after so long of stress now tensed at the approaching appointment. Another disappointment-

M/n kissed Miguel’s temple, feeling the pulse of the stressed out man in front of him who’s heart was beating rapidly.

“I know that face hun; this appointment has to be good news-“

“And what if it isn’t!”

Miguel shut his mouth at his outburst, his eyes burning once more that the thought of their doctors telling the couple more bad news or worse she’d tell them Miguel's sperm fertility was just not improving…that.

“Hun, it’s not hopeless, shock don’t say that anything but that, please.”

M/n’s voice creaked, he shook his head shoving his own feelings down, focusing on what he should say to Miguel who was losing hope.

“What else should I say, Cada visita es solo una pérdida de tiempo. I want to raise a kid with you so badly; I want to have a normal family with no strings attached…but every time we try Esta maldita genética mutante todavía lo arruina todo!”

M/n wiped away Miguel’s tears, ignoring his own that streamed down his face. They wanted to complete their family so badly, to raise their own family, to live a normal calm life. Seeing the man in front of him break down, his heart wide open and exposed, raw with grief and self hatred. He hated seeing Miguel so broken; going from a confident, strong headed, sarcastic hot shot to a broken mess in his arms M/n wanted to just take all the pain away.

“Miguel don’t say that”

“But it’s true, if I never tried to cure myself, never got my genetic code rewritten with a spider we wouldn’t-“

“I wouldn’t be alive”

“Huh-“

“Miguel, if none of this happened to you, if you never became spiderman…I would’ve died that night. Spiderman wouldn’t have saved so many lives, and even if you weren’t spiderman we both know you wouldn’t have just sat by and watched Alchemax keep hurting people. Things happen in ways that force us all to adapt, evolve in ways that shock even ourselves, be it in a positive or negative light. But don’t ever hate yourself ever, no matter what happens now to the future miguel I’m just happy to have you in my life, to have a kid with you and we will Miggy we just have to be patient a little bit longer”

Miguel leaned his head into the crook of m/n’s neck as he let out a shaky breath, wrapping his arms around m/n waist and back breathing in his scent. Mixed with expensive cologne and food had Miguel’s heart lighten; feeling truly at home in m/n’s arms, holding his soon to be husband.

“Estoy tan cansado de esperar”

“Oh hun I know, I know but we have to try and stay positive the best we can…which food can help com one handsome let’s eat and get you your injection before the doctor tears our heads off”

“Ugh, shock not another shot”

M/n stood up taking Miguel’s hand pulling him up from his chair pulling the muscular taller man against his own chest. The sounds of birds outside singing with the distant sounds of yard drones cutting the neighbors yards. It felt truly like home, staring down at M/n who caressed Miguel’s jaw luring him down for a peak.

“It’s just a small prick, besides hun I made your favorite food; managed to get your mom’s recipe”

Miguel peaked those intoxicating lips once more, his arms wrapping behind his lover's head. Untaloned Mighuel ran his fingers through the soft hair; gently tugging out knots as he gazed into the E/c eyes that stared back at him with such love it only luring him in even more; a siren song with no dangers.

“And how did you manage to do that? That woman keeps her recipes closer to her heart then that hun of hers”

Smirked, M/n flipped his head to the side, side eyeing Miguel.

“I have my ways, she’s not so secretive if you hang her dirty laundry out in front of her. Besides, it’s the least she could do after dragging our love through the mud. Now stop deflecting, let's eat before we go okay. And Miguel I love you just remember that no matter what I love you”

Leaning down Miguel pressed the twos for heads together, smiling allowing his teeth to show. His old confidence came back in full; feel much better than before.

~~~~~~

At that moment he was, but now that the couple sat in their room waiting for their reproductive endocrinologist Miguel became an anxiety riddled mess as he sat on top of the examination table trying to at the very least keep his talons in check as to not hurt the hand that was intertwined with his.

“Shh babe, just remember to breathe okay.”

Miguel tried to follow m/ns advice but even that wasn’t helping as Miguel squeezed his hand slightly as he kept his eyes moving around the room, reading the small posters featuring information on IVF and it’s almost beaconful message of;

‘We make families whole!’

Scoffing Miguel looked over to M/n who had his full attention on rubbing Miguel’s clenched hand, trying to sooth Miguel’s anxiety. Realizing he was hurting him Miguel eased his grip on his reassuring fiancé who leaned over in his chair placing a tame kiss upon Miguel’s quivering one.

His voice was like satin, soft and calming as he spoke with such confidence Miguel yearned to have such hope like M/n had.

“She’ll be here real soon hun, they are very busy today”

“I know but we’ve been waiting for an hour! Can they get this over with-“

“Hey now what did we talk about in the taxi hun?”

Miguel wanted to cop attitude but seeing the look M/n gave him Miguel sighed, taking a deep breath calming his already breaking heart at the news he knew they’d get once again. Breathing out Miguel pressed his head against M/n’s staring at their interwoven hands staring at the red diamond that sat set into the tungsten carbide band engraved with the couples most charashed phrase,

‘Mi única luz en la vida’

Words Miguel knew were far more truer now than ever before. His gaze soon fell to staring at m/n who smiled softly, even though he looked hopeful Miguel sensed he was just as much of a nervous wreck as he was.

“Try and stay hopeful-“

A small knock interrupted the couples thoughts as their doctor walked in, her holo pad along with her AI who processed the data came walking in. She was anything but a straight to the point, take not shot doctor. As she looked up her glasses caught the bright lights that had Miguel wearing his tinted sunglasses.

“Mr.O’Hara and Mr.L/N; I know you both what nothing more then to know the news-“

M/n smiled his voice loud and excited as he gave Miguel’s hand a slight squeeze as he spoke.

“Do we ever, it’s good news right doc?”

Miguel felt his fiancés hands shaking as they clasped over Miguel’s. Who now comforted M/n as his voice cracked some. Miguel clenched his teeth as tears began to gather.

“You both have been going through the highest levels of IVF, the most expensive treatments for infertility in men your age group and on top of that 5 separate appoints with no promising outcomes-“

‘Here it comes-‘

“Which is why I’m pleased to tell you both good news!”

Tears fell from Miguel’s eyes as he looked at the doctor, his and M/n’s hands gripping earthers tightly as the news left the doctors lips, her smile widening as she call for her AI to pull up the photos of a artificial womb with a small fetus floating within a time counting down twirls the date their child would be ‘born’.

“You both will be proud dads of a healthy baby girl! Congratulations!”

M/n yelled out pulling Miguel into a tight embrace, tears streaming down both soon to dads faces. Miguel began crying as well as he gripped the back of M/n’s shirt as he sobbed in pure relief of happiness. Almost disbelief as they stared at the photo given to the two of the child’s ‘ultrasound’. Standing up M/n wrapped his arm around Miguel’s waist as he asked the doctor questions Miguel didn’t bother to pay attention to as he held the photo in his hands, seeing their baby, their own daughter! Alive and healthy, a clear bill of health.

“When will she be fully developed I know this kind of new technology is recently upgraded and such with nutrition and growth potential en-“

“She’ll be born and ready for the both of you to take her home in around 3 months as long as she stays on the growth patterns she’s been showcasing. Rest assured mr.m/l, ohara we’re ensuring this little princess will be well taking cared of and safe”

Both parents sighed at the news, Miguel looked over to M/n who looked about ready to start crying himself at the news. The news they’ve been waiting for so long; was coming true, they’ll be parents with a baby girl running around. A strong, healthy baby girl.

“Now then I’ll just be right outside filling out your paperwork make sure to talk to the front office for your own paperwork to fill out, her name, legal parents that sort of thing, nothing to serious”

Miguel still could barely believe it even as he looked back down at the ultrasound seeing the small fetus that would soon grow into a baby; Their baby, migue leaned his body weight against M/n who smiled tears filling his own eyes as he held his fiancé.

“Thank you Dr.Lee, I-I don’t know how to even word just how much this means to us.”

Dr.lee smiled, placing a hand upon the couple's still interwoven hand.

“No need to thank me for doing my job, and once again congratulations Mr.l/n, Mr. ohara”

The door closed behind the doctor giving the new parents time to process the news of their daughter. M/n squeezed Miguel’s body closer to his as the two stood looking at the small ultrasound of their daughter. M/n smiled as Miguel's lips crashed against his own in a raw emotional moment of tears of both fathers, as overjoyed tears streamed down their faces: as all the stress and heartache finally vanished after months of wanting and waiting for this same news.

“W-we’re having a baby”

M/n smiled down at Miguel pulling his body flushed against his chest his hands gripping him by his waist his fingers soon running up Miguel’s white long sleeve shirt messaging the tension in his back out. Littering Miguel’s tear stain face with peaks with sweet nothings.

“ we’re having a little Gabriella, you did it hun; shock im so happy right now!”

Miguel’s eyes brightened kissing M/n back with a new found exuberance at the realization of this being real. That this was happening, that they were starting a family together. With a daughter they both always wanted Miguel’s hands wrapped around m/n’s neck basking in the joy the two felt,

“I guess this is the part I admit you were right?”

Laughing m/n held Miguel’s face in his hands leaning close enough for their noses to touch.

“Nah, I mean sure it’s nice to be proven right but now all I care about is that our daughter is safe and healthy and taking you out to celebrate…maybe invite the family?”

Miguel laughed, nudging his nose against m/ns shaking his head.

“You just wanna show off Gabriella don’t you”

“And why shouldn’t I? After all she’s our daughter, our strong, healthy, beautiful baby”

~~~~~

M/n couldn’t keep his hands to himself during dinner; and how could he? With Miguel sitting beside him as he spoke to Gabriel who seemed more distant and out of it, Miguel tried not to get sidetracked with the hand that slowly moved its way farther up his thigh. But the more he tried to ignore the hand that rubbed up and down his thigh getting closer to his slowly stirring cock. Trying to calm his body’s reaction Miguel tried asking Gabriel how his own fiancé was doing with her pregnancy.

“Oh she’s fine…when she’s not obsessing over spiderman. After all he’s the protector of the people right?-aye mamá! ¿Para qué era eso!”

Gabriel winced as Conchata hit the back of his head with his palm as she finished drinking her drink. Setting the drink down she turned to Gabe who seemed to know he messed up poorly as she began talking in her authoritative voice that made even Miguel tense up as. M/n tore his eyes away from the uncomfortable situation of watching an adult being ridiculed by his own mother.

“that was for disrespecting the man who managed to keep downtown safe while your stupid fiance and her useless rebel group got in spider man's way most of the time!El hecho de que esa rata sin hogar te haya abierto las piernas no significa que empieces a faltarle el respeto al hombre que está ayudando a tu hermano a sacar el crimen de las calles.”

Miguel had to force his face to stay as blank as he could as he took a bite from his meal, staring at the two members of his family arguing. While trying his best to not buckle against M/n's hand that now cupped his covered cock in his hand.

Messaging the area with a straight face side eyeing Miguel with a look that had Miguel’s stomachs knot up with lust; his cock throbbed against M/n’s hand earning Miguel a smile from M/n as his attention turn back to his mother and brother who were in an argument that was gaining some attention from the other people eating; clearing his throat M/n smiled at the two as he spoke a lovable tone calmed the two in laws down as he spoke.

“What we wanted to tell you both is that well…Miguel did we grab the photos?”

Miguel took a sip of his drink, nodding clearing his throat as he reached into his pocket grabbing the two ultrasound of the IVF womb with their soon to be daughter inside looking in her seventh month. Miguel’s hands shook not from nervousness even though he knew his mother and brother would take it as such but that was far from the reason he was quivering as the hand messaging his slowly hardening cock rubbed and cupped around him firmer.

“Mamá, Gabriel y M/N y yo estamos teniendo un bebé.”

Miguel’s smile widened, handing his mom and baby brother their own ultrasound pictures of his and M/ns baby girl.Gabriel practically yanked the ultrasound out of Miguel’s hand only for his scowl to turn into a look of pure adoring as he looked at his niece, his face beaming at the small image.

Conchata grabbed a hold of the small photo looking at the ultrasound . The stoic scowl that seemed to always be stuck on her face vanished as she looked down at the photo running his hand over the polished image of the baby curled up covering its face.

“Do you know the gender yet?”

Her voice softened as she stared over at the couple who looked at one another for permission. Miguel smiled at his mom,

“She’s a girl, a strong, healthy girl”

“What are you naming her! Did you come up with names yet?”

Gabe shouted as he leaned over the table at the couple.

“Yeah we settled on Gabriella for her. It just fits her don’t you think”

M/n's hand lightened its messaging of Miguel’s covered cock, Miguel’s one hand gripping the hand in place wanting it to stay, to keep its teasing as it stroked the straining fabric against his now hardened cock.

“Sure does! Now I know how to embarrass her haha Gabriel and Gabriella! Genius M/n!”

“Actually man it was Miguel who chose the name. He seemed dead set on the name and who am I to tell him no”

M/n smirked, kissing Miguel on his cheek; Gabriel’s chest clenched seeing the happy couple. Seeing his older brother aka spiderman in a loving relationship while his own as being torn apart because of Spiderman!

Looking away Gabriel grabbed his drink, chugging the rest of the alcohol, getting an elbow in his ribs by his mom who corrected his manners.

“Don’t drink like that”

Resisting the urge to yell at his mom who now favored his more successful CEO brother. Instead Gabe apologizes for his hasty celebration. Congratulating the couple before standing up excusing himself for leaving early.

“Do you want us to pay for a taxi for you Gabe!-“

“No, I'm good! Congrats again miggy!”

Miguel sighed, placing his head into his hands rubbing his temple looking towards his mom, who was now standing up grabbing her jacket, rolling her eyes at Gabriel’s ‘childish behavior’ stating she had to get going. Saying she had an appointment with a friend.

As both of the couple watched as the two rushed out leaving M/n and Miguel alone at the table. M/n’s other hand guiding Miguel’s hurt expression to face him kissing his fiancé who’s family rushed out as fast as they came. M/n knew the family had a toxic streak but to just ditch a celebration of a new member of the family coming soon…m/n knew it cut Migue deep.

Leaning forward M/n pressed his lips against Miguel’s, being glad the couple chose a booth seat as not many people bothered to look at the couple.

The hand that messaged Miguel’s cock gripped his balls harder, fondling them the best they could with; making Miguel pant, trying to keep his face and noises down as they were still in a public space surrounded by intel’s other people.

“We’ll celebrate in our own way after all You're getting pretty horny now aren’t you hot stuff?”

Miguel’s other hand gripped around M/n's wrist for support as his hand began palming his cocks head through his jeans. It took all his will power to not throw his head back from the pleasure and teasing he never knew he missed getting from his other half; who’s lips brushed against the shell of his ear, his hot breath brushing against Miguel’s skin had his skin shiver with goosebumps all in anticipation…hinging on every word the man in front of him whispered.

“Wanna treat my baby’s daddy just right, gotta make him feel real appreciated”

Miguel let out a soft gasp moan as lips trailed down his jaw to his neck. Miguel couldn’t take much more, his cocks throbbing became painful, his legs were turning into jelly at the images runny through his dirty, horny mind.

Would his throat be fucked raw? On his back taking his lover's cock? Would he fuck him like an animal in heat, pull his hair, mark him. Miguel’s grip tightened around M/n's wrist while his free hands talons tore through the leather of the booths seats.

Feeling M/n smirk against his neck Miguel sighed leaning his head against m/n chest; embarrassed wasn’t the word he’d describe himself, there was nothing to be ashamed of when it came down to their lust for each other, PDA a sign for either of them to get home fast or there was no stopping them from indulging in their carnal desires for pleasure.

For many men Miguel’s size being the ‘bottom’ was embarrassing, to look too weak so fragile for any amount of touch to satisfy their needs. To Miguel it was pure bliss to let the walls down to let someone else take control to be in charge of his own pleasure. Someone like M/n who knew Miguel’s body inside and out, knew ways to make Miguel go limp at the near thought of getting fucked raw with carnal, primal lust and desire.

Feeling m/ns lips leave his neck Miguel clung to him jerking his hips slightly against the hot palm rubbing him through his pants. His focus was beginning to slip with each thrust of m/ns palm against the head of the aching cock. So much heat burning in his stomachs Miguel felt his control slipping even more as his fangs ached leaking bits of his own venom into his mouth mixing with his drool in ways that had his tongue buzzing with the bitter sweet taste.

“Por favor, te necesito tanto que duele el amor”

M/n's hand palming softened its unbearable teasing as he pulled Miguel’s head into his neck area as his voice shouted out to their waitress. Miguel’s large muscular body tenses at slight fear of being caught in the act had Miguel regain some sense through the cloud of heated lust.

“Excuse me, could you call up an auto taxi please? We both must have drank more than we thought.”

Miguel let out a strained moan at the sudden strong rubbing that started once more. His mind rendered into a fog of pleasure struggling to keep itself focused on the act of staying aware of the situation they were in. He could hardly even focus on what their waitress was saying.

“Oh of course sir I’ll go do that right away, was your automatic payment set up for when you leave?”

“Oh yeah it’s all set up, tell the cooks good job on the food yeah and here's a tip for the trouble.”

“Oh there’s no need but thank you so much sir, the taxi will be here soon!”

Miguel let out a groan of relief with the deparcher of the young waitress. Trying his best to play it off as him being ‘drunk’ that didn’t stop M/n from kissing down his jaw to his neck, nipping at the sensitive skin near Miguel’s ear; sucking the skin leaving hickeys from his jaw down his neck. The grip Miguel’s talons had on the leather seat tightened even farther, tearing more of it in their wake of pleasure.

“joder a la mierda por favor necesito sentir tus manos a mi alrededor, I can’t take it anymore-“

“Mr.l/n your taxi is here!”

Miguel’s face tensed his eyes clenched shut, his lips swollen from his teeth biting down to keep the moans from pouring from them. But m/ns hand didn’t light up even as his sweetened voice. But Miguel knew the slight straining behind it as M/n's hand tugged Miguel’s shirt from his pants helping Miguel hide his rage ig boner as the two stood up.

M/n gathered most of their stuff, wrapping his hand around Miguel’s waist as he ‘helped’ Miguel walk outside to their taxi that waited for them, it became harder to walk from the anticipation of whatever was in store for him once they both got into the hover car.

Tossing their coats into the hover car M/n held the door open for miguel who only had one foot into the car before hands rubbing up his covered spine before lips kissed behind his ear, Miguel groaned when a hand gripped his straining cock firmly before letting Miguel go to get into the taxi.

The autopilot chimed on,

-“Please enter in destination requirements”-

M/n closed the doors hatch, without hesitation M/n swung his leg over Miguel’s legs straddling, his knees m/n’s face blocking much of Miguel’s view as he racked his hands all over Miguel’s muscular body.

Both adults eyes filled with lust for the other, Miguel’s body could help but shake as hands that weren’t his own started running up his thighs landing just shy of the raging cock that throbbed underneath the slowly staining fabric. Miguel barely had time to hit enter on the holo pad before the hands unbuttoned the jeans and took the pre-dripping cock out from the straining fabric.

No matter how hard Miguel tried he couldn’t hold back the unrestrained pornographic moan that escaped. He’s never felt this much lust in his life, it was almost suffocating as the hand started it unbearably slow pumping from head to base. It was as if with each stroke of the hand left Miguel more breathless than before,

Throwing his head back to the back stead’s headrest M/n's free hand took a handful of Miguel’s dark locks making him stare into e/c eyes. Miguel groaned, staring at the man he was marrying, having a kid with, and fell so deeply in love with it nearly hurt to feel him all around him.

Leaning forward M/n smirked, his voice heated, hot, and horny all for Miguel to make the man under him feel appreciated, worshiped, and valued. And that was exactly M/n planned to do, make Miguel’s walls come fully down to fuck him in ways that would make them both so exhausted the next morning they’d just stay in bed and bask in the afterglow of sex but the new found strength both parents had now for their daughter.

“¿Qué quiere papá que haga? What can I do to make him feel appreciated?”

Miguel’s mind was slipping, slipping into the pools of light headed lust. Pleasure building painfully slow in his guts, the weightless feeling of the hover taxi waiving past other hover cars only added to the feelings of his mind slipping into giving all power to the man over him.

All Miguel felt was appreciation from the man in front of him, sighing as lips trailed down his lips to his neck, the warmth wet trail left from his fiancés tongue left in its wake had Miguel craving for more of m/n.

“Ah, ¡joder! No sé”

-“please refrain from contaminating the back seat; if you proceed to do so you will be charged extra for any cleaning services that will be required”-

The automated voice sounded over the taxis inner speakers of the back seat. It sent an electric shock through Mighuels body as he made an attempt to fix himself, only for a hand to push his back against the plush seats of the Taxi. Soft swollen lips pushing against his own, M/n’s voice lustful, soft and jokingly tone all slipping through his voice as he spoke against Miguel’s slightly parted lips.

“You do know; you’ve known for months what you’ve wanted me to do to that body of yours; you just have to tell me how you want it daddy, this is all for you to feel appreciated”

M/n pulled Miguel by his shirt, closing the space between their lips in a heated kiss. Miguel moaned, letting his mind give in; opening the floodgates as Miguel’s hands ran their way up M/n hips grinding his hips up with each jerking motion the hand around his cock pumped. Pre leaking down the thick Vick onto the hand, lubing it up even more to pump faster.

The air around the lovers heated up, the smell of sex and sweat mixed together with their colones that only became stronger the more they sweated. Miguel’s mouth limply hang open his forehead resting against M/n’s chest watching his cock vanish and reappear as the hand twisted at the head making it leak even more pre, drool dripping from his mouth as he watched his cock get pumped with the hand; spit joint the pre in lubricating m/ns hand in jerking Miguel more efficiently.

“Remember Miggy we can’t make a mess”

Hooking a finger under Miguel’s chin M/n lifted his face to look at the existence of the state Miguel was in. What he saw had his own cock throb painfully at Miguel’s flushed face, his unfocused eyes, the drooling mouth that revealed his fangs that seemed like they were even losing control over their venom leaking out, Miguel’s messing hair clinging to his forehead. M/n smirked down at his blissed out minded fiancé who’s arms clung loosely on his hips.

“ w-want you inside, hmm ah”

Miguel moaned his head leaning against M/ns hand, his body was in a state of plearsureable numbness. The only thoughts going through his mind was the thought of M/n cock filling him up with is seed. In a primal part of his mindset miguel craved to be filled to the brim with M/ns kids.

“Want your cum…in me filling me”

“Oh? And why does daddy want my cum?hmm”

Twisting his hand harshly at the reddening tip of Miguel’s cock; m/n moaned watching Miguel’s body shake involuntarily with Miguel’s whines from the amount of pleasure.

Miguel couldn’t take anymore his cock,his stomachs, even his ass ached for his fiancés cock to fuck him raw and full with cum.

“I want more kids, want you t-o fill me with them ahh, carajo!”

Miguel stammered his request filled M/n with such primal desire to do just as his future husband asked. Fill him full of his cum, his kids, to get him pregnant; to give their baby girl Gabriella siblings right away.

It was a part of Miguel’s brain that had these instincts programmed into him from the desisted, it made Miguel feel nothing more than a needy animal but in a way it was part of Miguel that he couldn’t hate…not when it made sex feel so fucking good.

Yet Miguel wasn’t prepared for his pants to be yanked as far down as M/n could manage before he got sexually frustrated enough to the point he removed his hand from Miguel’s burning cock to O’Neal down in between Miguel’s legs yanking his stained jeans the rest of the way off.

Licking his lips as he stared at Miguel’s pre-covered cock to his twitching hole. Shoving his own fingers into his mouth not knowing just how deputed Miguel’s venom was;

“Don’t give me those sexy eyes, I’m not gonna risk getting paralyzed by that venom of yours again.”

Throwing his head back in frustration Miguel knew M/n was valid in his concerns last time they were lost in this kind of lust he was paralyzed for a good part of the day stuck with a raging boner.

Opening his eyes Miguel looked down at M/n who was sucking on his own fingers coating them in his spit, while his other hand grabbed ahold of Miguel’s thigh guilding it over his shoulder showing off the puckering ring of muscle that craved for him.

Feeling his face heating up to a point Miguel could only moan as fingers began their teasing taunts with each small push, a slight probe. Whines escaped Miguel’s lips as one of his hands gripped his own hair the other made its way to his beading pre cock. Only for the hand to get slapped away.

Shocked, Miguel looked down to M/n whose face was in between the two mounds of ass, his tongue pushing past the ring of muscle, loosening the inside enough for a finger to shove it’s way all the way to his knuckle.

“Amor a la mierda por favor déjame eyacular”

Miguel’s struggling voice whines his free hand reaching down to M/n hair gripping his fingers into the soft messy h/c. Pulling m/ns head closer with each brush made on his prostate. The burning pleasurable sort of pain each time a finger was added along with the tongue that still eases the ring of muscle open.

Stretching Miguel’s ass farther, the heights of Miguel’s nearly climax was at its peak, the knot that formed altightened, heightening his senses even higher than before as blood rushed to his ears the corners of his eyes started to go white with pleasure.

All stopped once the autopilot spoke once more the voice alerting them of their nearly destination in a few moments. Causing the head between Miguel’s shaking thighs to retreat, along with the tongue that Miguel had gotten so used to the warmth of inside him.

Letting out a desperate breath Miguel looked down at M/n. Whose face was just as flushed as Miguel’s as he stared back, his fingered scissoring Miguel’s still tight hole open; preparing him just the way he wanted.

All while he stroked a hand against Miguel’s neglected cock that leaked far more the more teasing M/n did.

“Look at yourself you sexy beast, being scissored and stretched with one hand while being given the best handjob with the other and still you want me. Shock I love it when you let me take care of you baby, so sexy”

Miguel’s hands clasped M/n head weakly hinting at his desperate want for their lips to mean once more. Chuckling M/n continued his assault of his fiancés ass and cock. Their lips barely brushed against the other when the hover taxi sounded;

-“destination reached! Scanning; cleaning required your holo card will be charades as such for a cleaning crew, enjoy your day”-

M/n smirked down to Miguel’s exposed body, exposed to him and him only; Miguel’s muscles that were flexed made the shirt he worse tight and cling to parts of his body that had M/n drooling himself while racking his eyes down the masterpiece of the body before him.

Miguel’s cocked twitching with the lack of attention went for his ass as it tried to pull his fingers deeper. Latching onto Miguel’s soft spot on his neck resulting in slightly taloned hands to grip his shoulder breaking the skin slightly: the pain was worth more of those sweet, addictive moans being pulled from those plump lips.

“Shock Miguel keep doing that and I might let you fuck me instead”

Miguel’s groan tugging on M/n’s suit wanting him to be in the same amount of undress he was right now. Miguel wanted him inside, fucking him raw and primal to worship his body like he knew M/n would.

“cariño, please get me into the house and you can do whatever you want with me!”

His head rolled back as M/ns fingers retreated out from his ass, with a wet sound as they pulled fully out leave his hole twitching for something to clench, to suck deep within itself.An invention M/n would soon take

“When you put it like that how can I say no”

Miguel let out a shaking breath as hands brushed up his chest all the way down to the jeans that were still down at his ankles.

“Shock I can’t stop looking at you; fucking beautiful”

Lips ghosted down Miguel’s thighs, the trail of kisses were near unbearably sweet; it had him breathless all while M/n pulled his Jeans up, his boxers covering most of Miguel’s hyper sensitive cock.

The fabric now covering him up had Miguel panting as he resisted the urge to pull the clothes off his hyper sensitive cock. The fabric brushing against his slightly exposed head had Miguel squeezing his legs together as much as he could as the two made their way into their house.

A house that already held so many memories and would hold more. A clean organized house, with modern furniture decorating the interior of the modern home. The only messy part could be spotted in the kitchen which was getting cleaned already by LYLAs drones.

Miguel’s scenes were in overdrive; the smells of both men perforated the air of the house with their colognes, and now the smell of sweat, and sex that clung to the two. The smells are becoming stronger in their bedroom. A room that houses all the smells that had Miguel's instincts go wide.

It all had Miguel’s head spinning as he turned to M/n who smirked as he threw their suits onto the floor seeing the darkening lust that poured into Miguel’s eyes just before he pulled his other half on top of him.

M/n gasped as their bodies hit the plush bed; Miguel’s face was redder than m/n had ever seen it, his hair was messy sprawling over his face and bed. His fangs catching the dimmed lights as miguel spoke his voice thick with a need to be fucked, to be filled with cum.

“Love you; want more of you”

“Yeah?”

“¡Sí, por el amor de la mierda, por favor, que me jodan!”

M/n practically ripped Miguel's clothes off leaving the far more stronger man naked and bare underneath his body. Miguel’s broad figure relaxed moaning with each light touch M/n left on his skin. Any amount of lips that licked up the sweat that ran down Miguel’s anticipating body.

M/n loved seeing Miguel so lost in the ecstasy of it all. Watching him shiver,buckle, beg underneath him seeing him finally let go of all the stress and pressure that the last few months placed on him. Now he gave in, allowing himself to feel everything all at once.

M/n took his time stripping his own close off his body, giving the desperate Miguel underneath him something to enjoy with each curse word that poured from Miguel’s lips with each piece of clothing thrown elsewhere in the room.

Miguel, sexually frustrated made a move to pull M/n down to him but it only resulted in him being flipped into his stomach. Gasping as hands gripped his hips, pulling them flushed with a straining pair of pants that covered a raging cock under eight rubbing ever so slightly against Miguel’s prepped plum ass.

“Such an impatient daddy; maybe I should punish you-“

“No!”

“I guess you're right, this day is all about you, about making you feel really loved. Is that what you want for me to shove my cock inside this needy hole?”

Miguel’s talons released from his fingers gripping the thick blanket underneath the two, the unstable fibers of the blanket resisted the tearing from Miguel’s claws. Miguel looked over his broad shoulders seeing M/n tossing his pants off the bed along with his boxers leaving them both fully naked, a fact that had Miguel pushing his ass back against the cock that now rubbed its pre leaking head between the two mounds.

Miguel arched his back as the head teased his waiting, ache hole. The heat radiating from m/n legs and cock that pressed flushed with Miguel’s body had him moaning tears of joy ran down his face with the burning pleasure rippled through his ass up to his head.

As m/n started to slowly push the head of his cock inside Miguel. Hearing M/n’s low moans against his lower back, groaning about Miguel’s tightness that clenched around the head.

“Shock, miggy your ass is pulling me in so well”

Miguel moaned loudly at the praise, taking pure bliss of feeling so fucking full of M/n’s cock. Each each raised Miguel’s moans higher and higher, the addictive burn of his ass adjusting around the cock that fox in oh so perfectly had Miguel’s rolling his hips. M/n's hands grip on Miguel’s hips tightening as he holds back to give Miguel some time to breath only for Migue to buck his ass back slamming the rest of the cock into him.

“Fuck miguel! Ah”

“sí se siente tan lleno querido, más quiero todo lo que tienes"

Miguel managed to get his arms under him, his talons gripping tighter on their blankets; the glow from the fibers resisting the tears had the dim room glowing faintly as the illuminated the two pleasure lost men.

Miguel threw his head back moaning loudly as M:n hips gave in fully to Miguel’s demands. An iron grip on Miguel’s hips would bruise the next morning from the intensity of m/ns thrusts had Miguel voice breaking mid moans. In no time m/ns cock found Miguel’s prostate ramming into the bundle of nerves repeatedly.

Electrifying pleasure after pleasure had Miguel screaming as his vision began to turn nearly white as the pleasure blinded him. His knees began to lock up the feeling of the nearly inhuman speed his fiancés thrusted into his tight ass had Miguel railing for more.

Thrusting his own hips back against m/ns the sound of skin slapping against skin echoed in their room the smell of sex and sweat became nearly as intoxicating as the pleasure. The nails in his hips trailed separating one wrapping itself around Miguel’s dripping reddening cock pumping the cock in time with his thrusts stimulating Miguel’s nerves even more. Miguel’s mouth hangs open saliva escaping his mouth that is now mixed with his venom making for a sweet but bitter taste to be a constant in his mouth.

Before Miguel had time to realize the other hand trailing threw his hair it was already to last as M/n pulled Miguel’s head back, both arms wrapped around Miguel’s body pulling the pleasure lost man to his own chest allowing lips and tongue to trail down Miguel’s neck leaving hickeys and bite marks in their wake.

Miguel’s moans turned into whimpers as the increased intensity of m/n thrusts became harder and faster the knot in Miguel’s stomachs was reaching its breaking point; Miguel’s cock was leaking an amount M/n's hand was covered in the pre.

“Ah, look down Miggy, fuck my cock is filling you good hun”

Miguel did as he was told with slight resistance from the still tight grip M/n's hands had in his hair. What he saw had Miguel nearly lose his instinct riddled mind as a bus able bulge could be seen with each harsh unforgiving thrusts.

“Go on, fill it, fill just how much I’m filling you baby; rub that cock filled stomach of yours for me.”

Miguel threw his head back as another dead-on hit to his prostate was made, his head resting against M/n shoulder. His hands trailed up to his stomachs moaning at each thrust had the bulge protruding from Miguel’s stomachs to rub against his hands.

M/n was right he was filling Miguel so good, so much filled him Miguel never wanted this to end the feeling the cocks head gave him with each thrust had Miguel’s brain want to believe it wasn’t a cock but his and M/n’s child growing inside of him. A baby bump; that a child was growing inside of Miguel.

“Shock M/n more ¡Lléname, cum dentro de mí por favor! quieres darle a Gabriella un hermano quiere a tus hijos, amor”

“Ah fuck keep t-talking like that and I’ll loose it hun”

“So close to, ah shock, shock please so close! W-anna feel you cum inside me!”

The knot that’s been building in both of the two lovers grew to its breaking point. The pain melded with the pleasure of the pressure build up had Miguel gripping M/n's ass keeping him in place the best he could while his screams of pleasure filled the room ; ropes of cum splattering all over the bed sheets and m/ns still pumping hands.

Wet skin slapping movements filled the air of the couples room; as a tear stained Miguel gasped for any amount of air he could get as his body shook only for a moan to rip be ripped out of him as his hand felt M/ns hips sputtering in a final harder thrust up into Miguel’s tightening hole; the bully Miguel felt twitching harshly against his prostate as his inside were flooded with m/ns hot seed. Made Miguel buckle his own hips into the air as yet another unexpected second orgasam hit him.

Grabbing hold of M/n's hair Miguel sighed, feeling his lover's lips soothing him. Soft lips trailing up Miguel’s neck to his jaw. His hand turning Miguel’s fucked out expression towards him peppering kisses all over Miguel’s face that scrunched up in discomfort as 5the now softened cock slipped from his cum dripping hole.

Leaving Miguel whining yet moaning at the soft attention he was receiving from M/n whose other hand rubbed what was left of Miguel’s cum on the now dirty blanket. Before stroking Miguel’s aching thighs and hips.

“I didn’t hurt you did I?”

Miguel laughed, opening his eyes to stare at his worried fiancé who’s shoulder bore more damage compared to Miguel’s soon to be bruising hips.

“You're asking me? Last I checked I’m not bleeding anywhere”

“Yeah yeah smart ass, fuck I love you so much“

Interweaving his fingers through the h/c hair Miguel breathed in m/ns scent now mostly smelling of Miguel and sex Miguel relaxed basking in their afterglow.

“Yo también te amo, m/n”

Feeling m/n face pressed into Miguel’s neck Miguel relaxed as he continued to play with his lover's hair; feeling him speak against his neck a statement that had Miguel’s chest ache with just how much he loved his man holding him.

“And I love our daughter; I’ll protect both of you the best way I can I swear, I’ll keep you both safe no matter what”

“Now you’re stealing my lines”

A chuckle tickled Miguel’s sensitive neck as they both chuckled while caressing each other's bodies, messaging out the aching muscles.

“Sure am, we deserve a normal life don't you think, a nice long vacation”

“And just how long is this vacation lasting?-“

“The rest our lives; raising our beautiful baby”

The couple intertwined their hands M/n looking down at Miguel’s ring around his finger, the joy and light feeling of finally finding the family he’s spent all his life searching for was here. Had always been here in his arms for years and now another part of their family is one her way as well.

Pulling Miguel’s hand to his lips both Miguel and M/n kissed their ringed fingers, nudging ‘em their head together as they basked in the love they held for each other and their daughter.

Nothing would change that…ever.

Part 6 final

( damn this turned out very long and angsty and soft all at the same time! Hope y’all like it!)

[irenadel]

The Bad Batch Headcanons on First Times and Partners

Sexy times ahead and also the idea that Clone Force 99 tends to share partners. Also in a galaxy with aliens and variable genders lets just assume pansexuals are pretty common. These headcanons are for a fic I’m working on. This isn't happy sharing, this is sex as a coping mechanism. This is toxic poly, this is sibling rivalry, be warned. Not precisely clone shipping because I think the close familiar sibling bond is too firmly in place for them but certainly they have no effing boundaries because how could they? Manly men being nasty ahead. You have been warned.

Hunter

Hunter tends towards sporadic one night stands with other soldiers, whether within the GAR itself or with insurgents. He tends to hold himself apart from civilians and is the least likely to seek out a permanent partner on puropose. He feels more comfortable with someone who can understand where he's coming from. As Eldest Daughter coded and leader he also holds himself apart from the rest of the Batch and tends not to share partners with them as often. It has happened for comfort, for Tech once and another time via Crosshair’s incessant needling. This last experience was intense and disturbing to him and though he would never admit it, he kinda wishes it would happen again. Hunter knows he and Crosshair butt heads most often but he also knows this is makes him a better leader. The sex was similar.

I headcanon Hunter as less interested in powerplay and more into just getting on with sex. But sharing a partner with Crosshair brought out something different in him. It was like being a cadet again and competing, showing his brother up, showing the world he deserved to be leader, showing his partner who was boss. At one point it was like the partner between them was another practice dummy, just a tool to show off who could give them the most orgasms, who fucked better and harder. The smell of lovejuices and cum seemed to linger on Hunter's face for days, the same way that fucking a body braced against another he could trust, Crosshair.

It was disturbingly good.

He has since avoided the experience because he doesn’t want it to interfere with missions but most of all, because he fears he could get addicted to it.

Tech

Tech was a virgin the longest both because social interactions tend to go over his head and because he's watched too much porn and kind of built up the experience in his head and was afraid to try it. Since he is in charge of downloading media for the whole Batch he is aware of everyone’s nastiest preferences as far as porn goes. And that means he's had the most resources to explore his own.

Tech's the one most likely to have hentai tentacle fantasies and a wish list of toys he'd liked to use on a partner AND himself. He's the most likely to try out pegging because he's the one with the diagram of the human male body. He just... hasn't got around to trying it yet.

His experiences have been mostly sharing a partner with one or more of his brothers because they ease the social part of it for him. His first time was probably that time with Hunter because he needed backup. He may have tried it out with Wrecker and one of his regulars maybe once but he and Crosshair, as close mouthed and prickly as they both can be, will discuss fantasies and favorite positions and past encounters fairly extensively. He wouldn't be adversed to trying it out with one of Crosshair's conquests if prompted. Though he is unlikely to suggest it himself. Maybe has had ONE hired experience after scavanging what little credits the stupid Republic sees fit to give the clones when and if they do. This was because he wanted to try it on his own without having to worry about the social aspect of it. It was most probably a weird alien with fancy genitals, as a treat.

Wrecker

Wrecker has had few but repeat flings usually with civilians cause he craves the novelty of someone outside the GAR. Usually in the 79s but is not adversed towards a fling while on a mission. He has regulars because he is both affectionate and hungry for the affection. Enthusiastic and eager to try things partners suggest. Among his brothers, he's also probably the one with the best attitude towards sex. He is capable of laughing it off when things don't go as planned and is loud about his preferences while eagerly listening to his partner's.

However, he likes showing off both his brothers and partners so he's the most likely to be pushy about sharing like, "Leela that hot Twi'lek with the blue tattoos, man you should try her out!" or "Can I have a go with your zabrak next?" He is well-intentioned and has not a mean-bone in his body so he just doesn't get why any of his brothers wouldn't wanna share a good time.

Wrecker would be the most likely to have a civilian sweetheart on purpose as opposed to Hunter who is liable to fall into an intense relationship without realizing he just did that.

Crosshair

Crosshair's the main character for the fic. Has probably had the most experiences out of the Batch, mostly one night stands, mostly civilians cause he doesnt' like the Regs and other soldiers make him antsy buuuuuut, his reputation as a player is often misunderstood. Don't get me wrong, he's an asshole, but he's an asshole for very particular reasons. He actually tends to one night stands because he dislikes fucking up and facing his partner after, so he, unlike Wrecker doesn't have regulars, mostly out of a fear of attachment and embarrassment.

I do love the fanon agreement that this man has the highest libido in the Batch and wholey embrace it and support it.

His first experience was probably during a mission and it went down badly, as things do when you are perfectionistic, unapologetic and unwilling to ask for help. Since then pride, if nothing else, have urged him to keep trying until he got it right, both for himself and his partner. This man is liable to eat you out and fuck you until you can't stand it anymore.

He is also unwarrantedly competitive so once he got the hang of it, he proceeded to rub the Regs' faces in the fact that one needn't be a conversationalist to get the best tail in the 79s. Amongst his many toxic traits is that he picks partners less for his own preference and more because of how good they'll make him look. He has therefore had more experiences with women, especially alien ones. I headcanon that given the GAR is mostly human males, getting it on with girls has a bit of prestige to it.

He shares fairly often with his brothers but it's less out of the kindness of his heart and more a desire to show them up. The partner he shared with Hunter was probably someone he procured for them in an attempt to show Hunter he could get better chicks than him. But he also probably hurt his own feelings by putting himself in a position to watch his brother give a prized partner as many orgasms as he did.

The most likely to be rabidly jealous but also the most likely to do things to provoke his own jealousy. If he ever had a permanent partner he'd be the one suggesting they put on clothes he knows his brothers (or even Regs) like and then getting pissed off that say, Wrecker compliments them. He's also the one most likely to re-assert himself in violent, often destructive ways and then feel very shitty about it. The one most likely to tie up a partner, to indulge in gunplay he knows is dangerous, the one most likely to cause a fight just to feel the rush of makeup sex.

He needs someone to see through his bullshit and unfortunately very few people are willing to.

These are all headcanons for one particular story idea and I am liable to change my mind for other scenarios. I'm not married to any of these. I didn't include Echo cause I think this was their dynamic for most of the war and Echo was a latecomer to it. Plus the fic am working on is set before Echo. If anyone is interested in what I can come up with re: how Echo fits in this mess, send me an ask.