#late night posting is the only way i get things done apparently

[starlightsearches]

As soon as I saw your Cherry Pie/Eddie tags I RAN over here to beg you to PLEASE write something for it 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫

Pour Some Sugar On Me

hey bestie!! can't find the original post that inspired this because tumblr's search feature is literally evil. I think the original post was about pour some sugar on me, but I kept it ambiguous. this got very carried away from me, and i'm sorry for the wait. i hope you enjoy!!

✨ requests open for my 2k celebration ✨

Eddie Munson x Stripper! Reader

Warnings: NSFW-ish, language, smoking and drinking, no mentions of s4 plot, Eddie is inexperienced and awkward, stripping, lap dance kind of (it's mostly just grinding), i do not know how 80s strip clubs worked, and i think that's it! let me know if I missed anything 💖 comments and reblogs are always appreciated 🥰

Eddie snaps his fingers against his driver's license, letting the plastic thwack it makes fill the deserted parking lot. He's looking at the birth date printed right below his goofy-ass picture, the numbers 1967 dark on the front.

Unlike most of the IDs he's had in the past, this one is real. And his.

An honest-to-god twenty one year old, although he's never felt more like a kid. Eddie smiles humorlessly, slipping the card inside his wallet.

Happy birthday to me.

He leans his shoulders back against the rough brick with his hands shoved deep into his jacket pockets, watching the neon sign at the edge of the parking lot flash blue, then yellow, then white against the cracked pavement and the weeds that grow there. The building itself isn't that special—just a brick box without windows—but the sign caught his eye, driving around the back roads of whatever fucking town he's in.

He was hoping to find a bar, maybe drink his first legal beer before crashing on the mattress in the back of his van. Then he saw the sign.

Heaven's Door. Gentleman's club.

No gentleman have gone inside, as far as Eddie can tell—just drunk truckers with deeply lined faces stumbling in and out every hour or so, and some locals who must visit often enough that the bouncer doesn't even ask for an ID.

Fucking stupid. He rolls his eyes at nothing, taking the keys from his back pocket with shaking hands.

His grips not good enough, fingers all clumsy with anticipation and fear. Eddie flushes red, embarrassed like he's got an audience as the keys hit the concrete with a metal jangle, cursing himself under his breath. Before he can reach for them, they're swallowed up in a triangle of yellow light.

There's a crack in the door beside him when he turns to look, the one he had assumed was an emergency exit. There's no sign of an emergency inside—no screaming or gunshots or thick, roiling flames. Just a pretty girl with wide eyes and a jacket about a million times too big hanging all the way down to her thighs.

It's been a while since Eddie's seen a girl, besides the nice old ladies at the diners he goes to for every meal. He could charm any of them without breaking a sweat, have them fawning over his easy manners and cheeky smiles. Sometimes he even got free dessert out of it.

He wishes he could find some of that fucking charm now.

"Oh."

Eddie's got nothing to say in response, making heavy and prolonged eye contact with your bare knees through the lines of your criss-crossy tights.

He snatches his keys from the pavement and stands, running a hand through his hair, but his fingers get caught in the tangles. Maybe Eddie should just cut his loses and run, but his feet won't carry him anywhere.

"Oh,"—his hands aim for his pockets and miss, leaving him arms hanging at his sides all lanky and awkward— "Uh, hi."

There's this journey you're going through—Eddie can see every mile of it on your face. You look at him with hesitant eyes, taking in the sneakers and the jeans and the frizzy hair and, he's sure, his deer-in-the-headlights stare.

The outcome to your mental math must work out in his favor, because you smile at him.

"Hi,"—your smile doesn't go anywhere, just bleeds into your voice until your words are all tinged honey-sweet—"are you waiting for someone?"

Eddie knows he's kind of dumb, but he gets what you mean. You gotta be able to tell that he's not that kind of guy—the kind that girls tease and flirt with and, you know, wanna fuck. Especially not girls like you. He wonders if you can see it written on his face, if the freak label followed him all these miles from Hawkins just to hover over his head, blinking like that fucking neon sign.

Eddie's also wondering if you came out here looking for a guy who was supposed to be waiting for you. And then he swallows down his jealousy like bile.

"What? Oh. No, I just—"

You let the door fall shut behind you, cutting off the light like you've cut off the end of his sentence. You just look up at him through your lashes, reading all his thoughts like they're printed across his skin.

It's been a long time since Eddie's seen a girl. It's got him feeling all kinds of strange.

He watches your steady fingers as they reach inside one of the jacket pockets and pull out a pack of Marlboro Reds, and you watch him. Eyes a little sharp and curious, traveling his features as you slip one of the cigarettes from inside, placing it between your lips. He takes another from the pack when you offer it, hoping you won't notice he's trembling.

“So," you mumble the word around the end of your cigarette, holding the end over your lighter's flame. You let your shoulder blades fall back against the brick, stripping him naked with that same stare, "if you’re not a perv, and you’re not waiting for somebody, what’re you doing back here?”

Your fingers brush against his palm when you pass him the lighter. It's just skin against skin, but that's not the way it feels traveling across his palm and up his wrist, giving him some kind of jittery contact high.

The first words that come to mind are the ones that tumble from his mouth.

"Who says I'm not a perv?"

He lets his head fall back against the brick, just hard enough to set in an ache. Jesus, Munson, get better jokes.

You roll your eyes at him, unphased. "Please. I can spot a perv—occupational hazard."

You wave a hand at the building behind you, and then give him this look. A look that says you can't hide from me, so why even try?

Maybe that's what has him reaching for his wallet, sliding his license from the little clear pocket. Feeling like you've already seen past any front he could put up, so he might as well show you the rest of him.

Or maybe he's just really, really lonely.

You take the ID when Eddie holds it out for you. He lets the little plastic square fall out of his line of sight, staring down the gravel by his shoes, digging the toe against the asphalt.

It's quiet in the parking lot, just chirping crickets occasionally interrupted by a muffled beat whenever the main door opens around the corner, and your soft breathing when you nudge his shoulder with your own.

"No shit. Is this real?"

Eddie nods, letting some smoke out of his nose. The cigarette's relaxed him, or maybe it's just that he's given you something else to look at, something to take the heat of your eyes off him.

Your thumb pets over his picture, gentle, like you're afraid it might smudge. "Edward, huh?"

He flushes. "Eddie."

"Eddie," you repeat. He hopes you'll say it again. He's starting to feel the night air through his jacket, but he thinks he could stay out here all night if you just kept saying his name.

He's still soaking in the glow of it when you gasp.

"Wait a second,"—you put your hand on his arm, denting the leather with your grip—"oh my god is it-?"

Fuck. He didn't think you'd notice. "Oh, yeah. I guess it is."

Eddie's gonna tell you that it's not a big deal. Tell you he's gotta get up early and so it's time he heads home—without mentioning that his home is the back of a van and the only thing he has to wake up for is another day of driving until his tank runs out.

But you're already tugging him around the corner.

"Oh my god, you have to have a drink with me!"

"Uh, I don't think-" but Eddie follows you anyways, even though he protests, taking little stuttering steps all the to the door.

"Hey Sal," —you're talking to the bouncer, passing his license over with your free hand—"my friend Eddie's looking for a drink."

Sal's bigger and burlier than he ever looked from Eddie's vantage point around the corner, but he smiles at you sweetly from behind his big, bushy beard.

"Having a good night, honey?"

Eddie swears you glance at him out of the corner of your eye. "I think I'm about to."

Sal glances at Eddie's ID and passes it back without any comment, just an amused look on his face. Eddie feels like telling him I don't know what's happening to me. I don't know what I could have done to end up here.

The more he looks at the bouncer, the more he feels familiar, just a little. He kind of looks like Uncle Wayne, with the little lines at the corners of his eyes.

He can almost hear his uncle's voice, saying who cares how you got here, son? Enjoy what you can while it lasts.

And he never really thought he'd live to see his twenty first birthday.

You've still got his hand in yours when you brush past the beaded curtain hanging in the doorway, rattling pleasantly behind him when you drag him through.

It's not as bad as it could be. You'd think a small-town strip club would be sleazy, or run down, but Eddie doesn't feel any of that. It's intimate with the lights low and the thump of the music from the speakers. Men sit around at circular tables, watching the girls dance and drinking beers, the glass bottles shining with condensation.

Eddie barely notices the girls though. Your hand is soft against his own, warm, and he's afraid you might notice how sweaty his palm is.

You deposit him at one of the stools in front of the high bar, letting the bartender know to treat him right until you're back. He's already sipping from his second beer when you're back at his side.

"Hey there, birthday boy."

He's feeling the drink already, and the atmosphere, and the anticipation of you and your smiles, so he'd like to say something funny—finally feeling like he could get you back for all the teasing you'd done back in the parking lot. Then he gets a good look at you.

"Je-sus Christ."

He almost chokes, hand pressed to his chest like you're gonna give him a heart attack, because that's how he feels. Looking the way you do—tits barely covered by thin, barely-there fabric, and those little criss-crossy stockings stop mid-thigh, topped with little bows.

And everything else—besides the little triangle between your hips that he doesn't even dare look at—is bare skin.

"You okay?"

You're laughing at him again, but he doesn't mind as much this time because your tits are jiggling, and he's staring and you don't say a word about it.

"I'm fine," he manages, "you just surprised me, sweetheart."

That's gotta be the alcohol talking. He wishes it would shut up.

Until you slide in closer, arm brushing against his now that he's slipped out of his jacket, trailing goose bumps over his skin when you fiddle with the chains at his wrist.

"So, birthday boy,"—you glance at him through your lashes—"you wanna dance?"

Fuck yeah, he does. But Eddie's trying to play it cool, trying not to ruin something he shouldn't even had a chance at. The words to unlock that door aren't coming to him, though.

You're more worried about rejection than you've let on. You drop his gaze, sliding your fingers from his skin.

"Or I could get one of my friends to do it, if that's what you're looking for."

You're talking about the girls on stage, gyrating to the music while they're showered with dollar bills. He's hardly looked at them. Too busy waiting for you to come back.

"No," he's shouting a little bit, before he manages to get a hold of himself, "no, definitely not. I—uh—yeah. Let's- let's go."

You take his hand, guiding him over to a more private area and pushing him into a seat.

Eddie lands with a little huff. It's too bad he let all his air out just then, because there's no way for him to breathe when you pet your hands over his shoulders, hovering just out of range of his lap.

"Any requests for a song?"

You slip in the tape he asks for. He's met with gritty vocals and a flood of guitar, the blood rushing through him laced with adrenaline. He'd heard the song on the radio a few months ago, at a second-hand store somewhere in Kansas. It had taken him a few days and a handful if miles before he found a copy of the album for himself.

And there were a lot of songs he liked, but this was the one he'd worn the tape down for. This was the one he played when he was feeling a different kind of lonely, the kind he'd never get used to. He'd lay on the mattress in the back just right to avoid the squeaky springs, the rough scrape of denim over his thighs.

All those nights, he realizes, he was picturing somebody who looked a lot like you.

He feels your weight in his lap, your arms wrapping around his shoulders. So solid against him because you're not a dream this time around.

You cut right to the chase, grinding down against his crotch and his whole body jolts at the contact. It's not like Eddie's masturbation habits were that healthy before, but all the alone time he has now definitely didn't fix that. Plus, he doesn't have to worry anybody hearing him parked on the side of some highway.

So he lets out a noise at the feeling, and it's louder than it should be—a guttural grunt he can't catch behind his teeth.

"Sensitive?" you whisper, right up against his ear. You've collected his stringy curls in one hand, lifting them up off his neck and tugging just a little. His breaths are coming out sharp, but he manages an answer.

"Yeah," he mumbles, cheeks flushed, his chest hot and tingling where he can feel the press of your tits, "guess I am."

You lean back, just enough he can see you smiling at him. "Don't worry, honey. I like that."

Your hips move sinuously against him in time with the music, just watching him with wide eyes and wet, parted lips.

"F-fuck, that feels good."

Eddie's eyes roll back, his neck barely able to support his head with the way the rest of him has tensed, thighs and core tight because he really doesn't wanna cum in his fucking jeans right now.

"Yeah?" you ask, leaning in close to his taut neck, hot breath caught in the little drips of sweat on his skin.

You scratch your hand down his shoulder, take hold of his middle finger before dropping it against your bare thigh.

"You can touch me, Eddie."

He's pretty sure that's not allowed, at least from what he's heard. But nobody's rushing to stop him when he grips your thighs hard enough to dent them. Eddie's starting to think that this isn't an average lap dance.

You flip around quick enough he can't miss the feel of you too much, your ass pillowy against his cock, stiff in his jeans. But the real excitement is in your hands, guiding his up over your torso, collecting body shimmer as he goes, rings snagging on the fabric. You stop him right over your perfect tits.

"Holy shit."

He tries to whisper to himself, but you're right there, laying your head back on his shoulder, biting at your lip while he massages at your breasts.

He wonders if he's doing this right, until he can hear your soft, little moans in his ear. And that's better than any fucking song in his collection.

The music is gone. He's not sure how long ago you noticed, but you haven't pulled away from him yet—still bumping your hips against his just to feel him twitch.

Eddie clears his throat before he speaks. He feels like his voice is gonna break.

"I don't- I've got cash in my car," he says. It's not enough for what he got, but he'd give it to you anyway.

"Don't worry about it. It's on me."

His hands slip down from your tits, resting at your waist instead. Eddie doesn't want to stop touching you, but he's gotta take care of the situation in his jeans ASAP.

You've gotta feel his urgency, because you're still moving against him, long, slow strokes of your hips that would barely be noticeable if he weren't ten seconds away from bursting.

"You know, my shift ends in like, twenty minutes."

Eddie's not sure what to do with that information. He can't imagine you mean what he thinks you mean.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," you whisper, leaning back so you can look him in the eyes. "I was just thinking, maybe when I'm done, we could go back to mine? Your birthday's not over yet."

You pet a finger over his zipper, tongue peeking out from between your lips. Even the way you blink is sexy.

Eddie's practically tripping over his words he's so eager.

"I'll wait for you out back."

[gay-dorito-dust]

How high on the clingy/protective scale these boys are …

Dick: a solid 8.5/10.

A very clingy bean.

Dick would be attached to your hip 24/7 if he could but he couldn’t answer that makes him sad.

In the wise words of @obsessedwithromance on one of my recent posts; ‘if Dick was a dog, he’d be a husky.’

And he’d make a very vocal husky at that with how often he whines and whinges whenever you tried to move from his grasp, acting as though every attempt in removing yourself from his arms were an attack against his character. So he will take personal offence to you wanting to leave him out in the cold and desolate place that was your bedroom. 💀

‘Stop trying to get out of my arms.’ He moans, tightening his hold on you as he buried his head into your neck, locking legs with you for extra measure. ‘Dick, I love you but you’re being too clingy for me right now.’ You reply and had just noticed the error of your ways almost immediately and were about to explain yourself but it was already too late, for you had set Dick the human husky off.

‘Me? Clingy? I thought you liked it when I was clingy? Why the sudden change? What did I do wrong? Why don’t you love me?’ Dick began his tirade and you could only lay there and let him talk your ear off -and loudly might I add- about how you apparently didn’t love him enough, which was a bunch of bullshit, but dick was too in his feelings to listen to reason. You’ll have to kiss him to shut him up, there’s no other option.

So once he’s settled down, he’ll go back to cuddling against your back,smiling dopily while you could only congratulate for a job well done at defusing the situation form getting any worse. You love your dramatic human husky and you wouldn’t change anything for anyone.

Jason: 7.5/10 or a 8/10.

The only time you’re seeing this man be clingy as all hell if he’s in a particular mood and want your affection, which might as well be all the time with this man, or after a not so great nightmare.

He would wake up in a cold sweat and immediately look for you and hold you against his chest as though you were his personal teddy bear, only just until his breathing evens out and not so tense in the muscles. Until then he holds onto you tightly and familiarises himself with you in anyway that he could, whether that be counting your eyelashes, noting the different shades that make up your eyes and much more.

At least just enough to help him gain some sense of self and awareness that he was safe and sound from all harm.

Like Jaime, Jason would watch over you like a hawk as Red Hood without a shadow of a doubt, and Jason has his reasons to do so as he knows the type of people who litter the streets of Gotham at night like the back of his hand. He doesn’t want to subject you to that sort of life of constant fear of having to look over your shoulder in hopes that there wasn’t someone following you home.

For in his minds eye, he’s your sole protector and the one thing that stands between the scumbags of the street and you. Jason doesn’t take this position he’s given himself lightly, it’s unlike him to anyway, as your safety is his top priority and he’d do anything to obtain it; whether they way it’s obtained was morally questionable or not, he doesn’t care for as long as your safe, he’ll live to learn with having permanent blood on his hands.

Damian: 5/10 on a good day. 2/10 in general.

He’s not an overly clingy person. Protective? yes. Clingy? No. It’s just not in just nature and he can be very awkward going about it too.

Damian knows he doesn’t have to constantly survey you 24/7, he has more faith in you and your abilities then most. He knows that you won’t call upon him if at all when faced with a situation that you could easily resolve yourself.

However if you were to get hurt on his watch or otherwise, that’s when he gets slightly clingy and will attempt to be within any space with you possible. Damian shows care in a completely different way than most and will more or less act like a guard dog when it came to you.

This little dude will point his sword at anyone that comes into close contact with you while glaring at them, meanwhile you’re having to push the blade of his sword down and away from the poor victim, only for Damian to raise his sword back towards their throat once more.

‘Pack it in.’ You’d hiss.

‘No. You’re practically useless when hurt, so let me deal with this one.’ Damian said.

You purposely ignored the fact that he had just called you useless and instead pushed the blade of his sword down until it was pointing at the floor again. ‘He’s not even a threat, just a regular citizen. So you can stop it with the fear attics now.’ You told him in a hushed tone. Damian meets your eyes with a glare of his own. ‘How you can be certain he’s a harmless civilian? What if he’s a low life thug of an underground drug syndicate on the rise? You can’t allow yourself to trust every face you meet.’ He replies, not one to back down for anyone, not even you.

You sigh as you rubbed the sides of your head. ‘Well at least try not to cause more issue for your dad. I swear between you, Jason, Tim and Dick I don’t know who gives him the most grey hairs.’

Jaime: runner up for Dick’s crown with also a 8.5/10

He’s clingy in a sense that he fears of loosing you constantly.

Khaji-Da doesn’t make the situation any better as it only encourages Jaime’s Innate clinginess tenfold, and now Jaime can’t go a couple of minutes without offering to join you on wherever your going.

He just cares about you very deeply and wouldn’t know what to do with himself if he’d ever lost you despite having the ability to stop any harm from coming your way. So needless to say that you spend most of your time with him and his family is a severe understatement.

It’s not as though he doesn’t trust you, he wholeheartedly does, but that trust doesn’t extend to potential outside threats. Hell, he would even go as far as to watch over you as Blue Beatle, much to the behest of literally everyone that isn’t Khaji-Da because the scarab is just as clingy over you in a sense that you were Jaime’s mate and there for should be within close proximity to him at all times.

It’s endearing but I think it’s about time you told Kahji-Da to cool it on the whole threatening people you talked to with plans to eliminate them…

[amourtoken]

I will be the brave soldier that tackles this concept that others may be too afraid to tackle 🫡

I was gonna do one big post for the whole group but the Noah part took over so I'll split it into individual parts for you. Here's some stepbro Noah for you 💀

Anyway let's get into it I feel like im virtually stalling lol. Apologies if this is insanely long it may or may not be the longest thing I've ever written so forgive me if it's rambley or not that great.

CW: stepcest, mean/annoying ass Noah, oral (M receiving), dacryphilia, choking, spit, belly bulge, raw sex, facials, squirting, fingering, nipple play, mentions of breeding, Dom Noah ftw always, oral fixation, slapping (just in general, face and pussy yk), and if I missed any others pls let me know

*NSFW below the cut, MDNI*

♡ The day Noah moved in to your dad's house was the worst day of your life unbeknownst to you at the time. He seemed tolerable at first but it took zero time for him to become a raging asshole that lived to torment you it seemed. He always blasts music late at night, is constantly yelling while playing video games with those obnoxious ass friends of his that like to come over and somehow act even more unbearable and he has the audacity to walk around YOUR house like he owns the place when he's only been here for a few months. What a cunt.

♡ Noah loves teasing you as well. He's got a couple years on you and is SUBSTANTIALLY larger than you so somewhere in the back of his mind he feels like you're easy to manipulate and manhandle the shit out of cause he's older, bigger, stronger, ect. He likes the way your voice pitches up in a yelp when he walks by and smacks your ass hard enough to bruise, he couldn't resist, not while you had those little shorts on. He also doesn't think twice abt it being "weird" or anything, he really doesn't even see you as a relative at this point, you're both grown and you've known eachother for like 6 months at the most. The fact his mom wanted to bang your dad has no effect on his life aside from the fact he had to up and move to your city.

♡ every time your parents give you two the house alone, it usually goes one of two ways. Either Noah invites those previously mentioned friends over and you get to listen to them practicing new songs in your living room until your head throbs from the volume or Noah invites some random tinder girl over to fuck half to death while you get the pleasure of listening to it through the thin wall that seperates your rooms. You've done everything to muffle the noise, but the incessant rhythmic slamming of his headboard right against the wall is similar to water torture. If you didn't care about privacy (unlike him, he frequently throws your bedroom door open while you're changing or walks in on you fresh out of the shower) you'd storm into his room and tell him to shut the fuck up but unfortunately you're a nicer person than he is so you suffer for a while longer.

♡ you end up confronting him the next night while he's on a game with his friends (again being eye twitching levels of loud and annoying). You had the decency to knock but when he opens the door he's got his hair tied up halfway, shirtless, and shorts sitting so fucking low on his hips you can see the light trail of hair that runs up his lower stomach to his navel. You hate that he's your type because shouldn't that be weird? He's your step brother, that has to be weird right?

"Yknow if you take a picture it'll last longer, right? My eyes are up here."

♡ Noah apparently clocked your staring and he has this stupid smug grin on his face that you hate. Ultimately how can he be upset for you staring at him when his eyes are always glued to your tits or ass whenever he has the chance?? He has no shame. It's not that he's upset at you, but he knows deep down you're fighting something he gave into ages ago, and he's got you wrapped around his finger whether you like it or not. You can't stand him, or is it that you want to hate him so you don't have to admit your other feelings?

"Can I help you or are you just gonna keep staring at my cock? I'm kinda fucking busy."

♡ he's always been this brash and it still somehow shocks you every time. You hate he's not really wrong, you wouldn't have been looking if his dick didn't leave a scarily large print in those shorts he was wearing. No wonder all those girls he brings over are so fucking loud. You didn't realize you still hadn't said what you came over to say, it felt like your voice was trapped in your throat especially when you looked up at him and those pretty brown eyes of his. God you fucking hate him, you hate that you're jealous of everyone that gets to spend time with him and all of those girls he's brought over to fuck and never say a word to again. He's an asshole but fuck if he isn't a pretty one. You feel like this is wrong but everything about him is wrong so what's new.

"If you want a taste you can just ask."

"Come on baby don't act like you don't think about me how I think about you. I've heard you playing with that little pussy and whining my name before, so you can't really fake hating me now, huh?"

♡ you're literally standing in his doorway dumbfounded at this point. He knew? Oh.

"Bet I could fuck that uptight attitude out of you. Maybe that's all you need, some good dick."

oh!

He shifts from where he's leaning against the doorframe to palm himself through his shorts and your heart feels like it's actually trying to escape your ribcage. Is this even real??? You came over here to bitch at him for being a loud inconsiderate asshole and he's trying to fuck you? Why doesn't he feel like this is wrong, why don't you feel like this is wrong? Why do you have this childish crush on your literal stepbrother? You feel dizzy. Noah has you right where he wants you though, he's been onto you the whole time and he could've just been nicer to you but who doesn't love a good hatefuck? He figured if he broke you down enough he could build you back up into the perfect little in home cock sleeve he knew you really wanted to be. He's fucking gross I need him but he's not wrong, is he?

♡ your eyes flit down from his eyes to his hand that's wrapped around his clothed cock again and you thought your knees would give out. How does that even fit inside anyone?? No wonder his dates sound like they're in a slasher film, they probably feel like they're getting split down the middle. You don't have much more time to think cause he's pulling you into his room and forcing you onto your knees in front of him.

"You're so much nicer when you're not bitching at me for fucking everything. Always wanted to fuck that pretty mouth of yours anyway, can't talk with your mouth full can you?"

Noah laces a large tattooed hand through the hair at the back of your head and you wince at the sting. You feel like your brain is just empty now, honestly this whole thing feels so much like a dream you're not fully convinced it's real, that you're actually letting your stepbrother smear precum on your lips with the tip of his big cock. It's even more threatening when it's not straining against his shorts, the tip is a pretty pink and there's a big thick vein running up the underside. You can't even fit your hand around it entirely, and you're so wet over it you're sure you can see through your pajama pants.

"Open."

♡ you do as you're told and Noah tugs your hair a little more to angle your head back. He's clouded up your brain so much you barely react when he spits directly onto your tongue, reaching to smear the mess around with 2 of his long fingers. You're looking up at him with big puppy eyes that water pathetically when he slides those two fingers down your throat, thrusting them in and out deeper each time to see how well you take him. He laughs when you gag and your eyes water as he sinks his fingers as deep as he can get them, you're such a fucking mess it's pathetic but that's exactly what's making his cock twitch. You're exactly how he needs you.

"gonna be a good girl for me? Let me fuck your throat and maybe I'll make you cum after if you're good."

you squeeze your thighs together to try and get some friction when he slaps his cock on your tongue, he's so fucking heavy and thick you really don't know how he expects to fit anywhere in your body let alone your mouth. Regardless, you try. You reach up to brace your hands on his tattooed thighs and focus on kissing and licking all over the tip, looking up at him when you wrap your lips around it to see his head fall back in a deep sigh. Sure he's gotten head before but something about this situation just makes him so much harder. The hand in your hair tightens and he slowly starts thrusting into your mouth, shallow at first but as you start taking more of him and it gets messy, he starts going much harder.

♡ Noah's fucking your throat so hard you have fat tears spilling down your cheeks, you're trying so hard to take him well but when he sinks in to the hilt and holds you there until you're clawing at this thighs and whimpering around his cock cause you can't breathe you can't help but pull away to catch it.

"God you're such a fucking slut."

He punctuates the phrase by landing a slap on your cheek. Not hard enough to really hurt you but definitely enough to sting. Normally you'd be upset but right now? Fuck you're almost begging him to do it again.

Once you catch your breath you open your mouth expectantly and he's right back to it. This time he has both hands tangled up in your hair while he's fucking your throat. Thank God no one's home cause he's not even trying to be a little quiet, deep moans and growls freely flowing from his mouth. You can't help but feel a little proud of yourself, normally you don't hear him make much noise when he's fucking whoever he's brought over but he's being pretty damn vocal right now. You can tell he's close by the way his thrusts falter and right before he cums he pulls out to paint your face. Whatever doesn't land on your tongue he gathers with his fingers and makes you suck them clean.

♡ you'd think he'd need a while to get hard again but no, he honestly didn't ever stop in the first place. Noah's dragging you up off the floor and nearly ripping your shorts down your legs and shirt off your torso immediately, he's seen you naked on "accident" but now that he really gets to look at you and feel you, fuck it's so much nicer. He steps back to admire your bare form but he can't go 3 seconds without teasing you. He runs his hands up your body to massage your tits and tease your nipples, pinching and playing with them until you're whimpering and teary eyed again.

He "apologizes" by leaning down and laving his tongue over the sensitive skin, making you arch against him and you can literally feel him smiling against your skin. He doesn't pull away before leaving a few dark hickeys on the underside of your tits, admiring his work after.

You don't get much of a break for long before he's picking you up and tossing you onto his bed. You can't help but notice it's neatly made (or was) before he drags your attention back to him by slapping his tip right against your clit, making you yelp. Apparently he liked your reaction cause he did it again, this time with his hand instead and with a little more force. Your voice broke into a whimper as he started rubbing circles on your clit with his fingers to ease the sting from the slap. He's mean but he still wants you to feel good.

"Can you say please? I wanna hear you beg for my cock before I give it to you, gotta know you really want it."

that smug look returns when his name and various pleads spill from your lips while he's sliding his fingers through the slick mess at your entrance, spreading the wetness around and dipping into you just enough to feel how tight you are around his fingers. He's reeling over the thought of how tight you'll be around his cock.

♡ like I said he's mean but he still wants you to feel good, he knows you need some kind of prep before he gets to fuck you. His free hand is slowly stroking his cock while the other is teasing your entrance, gauging your reaction. He starts with just one finger but quickly ends up fucking 3 into you, watching your back arch pathetically off the bed while he curls his fingers right up against that spot inside you that makes black spots flood your vision. You're squeezing his fingers so tight he knows you're close. The hand on his cock comes up to play with your clit and you feel like there's a literal fire lit in your belly.

"Gonna cum for me baby? It's okay, you can. Just let me make you feel good, need you see you fall apart for me."

Your legs are shaking, you're panting and squirming. It really feels like too much and right before you cum you're begging and pleading Noah to slow down cause it's just too much but he doesn't, if anything he's picking up the pace. The sound of your wetness is almost as loud as your moans for him and it only gets worse when that coil in your belly snaps and you nearly scream. You're arching off the bed and clawing at anything you can grab, you've cum before on your own but you've never felt anything this intense and sure as hell never made yourself squirt so this is a first. Noah is elated, his forearm and sheets are fucking drenched but he couldn't care less about the mess he's achingly hard at the fact he got you to squirt at all.

Noah reaches up and makes you clean your mess off his fingers, sliding them down your throat again just to feel you gag around them.

You're so sensitive and your brain is so fuzzy you can barely hold your head up, your chest rising and falling quickly while Noah sizes his length up against your tummy and groans at your size difference. His tip lands right below your navel, fuck, he's gonna demolish you. He's practically dripping like a faucet at this point and can't wait to be inside you, he's wanted this since you two fucking met. Noah leans over you to spit directly on your pussy before spreading it around with his tip and prodding at your slit, he's not even inside and you're whimpering about the stretch just from him resting against you.

"Can I hear you say please one more time, baby?"

♡ you enthusiastically answer, pleading for him to just fuck you and he takes the chance gladly. You knew the stretch was gonna be a lot but fuck when he actually sank balls deep your whole body ached. You were so fucking full it was unreal. You thought he couldn't get deeper but he crawled over you to push your knees up next to your ears and the moan you produced was pornographic. His tip was pressed right against your cervix and every time he thrust into you he knocked against it, it was painful at first but once the initial sting of the stretch wore off you've never felt better.

You swore you could feel him in your stomach he was so deep, and the sound of his hips smacking against yours was filthy. There was that familiar sound of his headboard hitting your shared wall but thankfully this time you weren't annoyed by it, if anything it drove you further.

Noah's moans started out deep in his chest but as he got closer they pitched up almost into whines, he was bucking his hips into yours like an animal in heat and his nails were sinking into your hips hard enough to bruise. He only leaned back a bit to wrap a hand around your throat and squeeze, cutting your moans and whimpers into pathetic strangled sounds.

"F-fuck- fuck fuck- 'm gonna cum- so fucking hard- tell me you want it- fuck, tell me you want me to fill this pretty pussy up-"

Youd never seen or heard him so disheveled but fuck if it wasn't hot. You didn't hesitate to beg for him to cum inside you, it made his head spin at the thought. God this was wrong but he couldn't help but imagine how pretty you'd look carrying his kid either. Noah pulled back just enough to have you in normal missionary, you wondered why but when he pressed his hand on your lower stomach you figured it out pretty quick. He could feel exactly where he was inside you and was rutting against his hand through you like you were nothing more than a toy. He only stopped so he could grab your hand and have you feel as well. His dick made a noticeable bulge in your belly every time he thrust into you, and it only made you ache at the thought. He really was ruining you for anyone else.

♡ Noah slid a hand between your bodies to tease your clit while he picked up the pace of his own sloppy thrusts. He was gonna cum but he needed you to cum with him. The hand on your throat absentmindedly tightened and you were seeing black spots flood your vision already but when he sank as deep as he could possibly get and whimpered as he came you couldn't stop yourself from toppling over the same edge. You thought you'd never cum so hard in your life earlier but now? This was really it. You sank your nails into his arm hard enough to draw blood while you convulsed under him, breaking into sobs of his name while he ground his hips into yours.

Noah pulling out left you with a horrible emptiness and you almost begged him to stay for just a bit longer. He was considering it himself but his thoughts were cut short when you both heard the front door downstairs open.

Shit.

Noah nearly threw you out of bed, scrambling to pull his shorts back on. Your clothes were strewn everywhere and you didn't have time to hunt for them so you picked up the first shirt you could find off his floor and put it on before racing back to your own room. Thank God you made it quick cause Noah's cum was still dripping down your thighs.

-

*also just saw the rb but tagging @somebodyllelse cause I almost forgot 😭

[todayisawthewhxlewxrld]

Ok. I have a request took me a lot of courage to finally request and shat myself a couple times but anyway! A one shot where choso lives in y/ns dorm with them and he was like doing his hair and kept messing up and gave up and started crying (I FEEL LIKE THATS SOMETHING HED DO THE POOR BOY:() thennnn y/n walks in their dorm and sees him crying and then comforts him and does his hair for him!!

IF THAT AIN'T LOVE THEN I DON'T KNOW WHAT LOVE IS!

synopsis// choso is having an off day.

➚ pairing// choso x gn!reader ➚ word count// 1.4k

contents// frustrated/sad choso? idk just some hurt/comfort in a way! fluff?? could be read as either platonic or romantic doesnt really matter i supposeeee? i think it kinda reads more romantic tho

notes// anon ur actual fucking MIND. i was moved. literally right after reading ur request i opened up my notes and went to fucking WORKKK!!!! anyway sorry its so kinda all over the place but i hope u like it and it lived up to ur expectations!! n also sorry to everyone else for posting a oneshot mid smau its short n cute okay (AND ITS FUCKING CHOSO SO LIKE CMON???) i couldnt help myself !! also the title is lyrics from cupid's chokehold by gym class heroes... okay bye!

Sharing a dorm with Choso was heavenly.

Because of your conflicting schedules, half the time, you rarely actually saw each other. But even when you did, he was the type of roommate to keep to himself; he has his side of the room, and you have yours. Of course, you two talked here and there; he was actually pretty nice company whenever you two were actually in the room at the same time. But more often than not, the only time you would see him was late at night when you were just getting in to go to sleep.

Either way, the point is, you never really saw him around much. Choso was always quick and effective, so by the time you would head back to your dorm after a few of your classes, he would just be heading out or have already left.

Usually, his alarm would go off an hour before his classes, which is ample time for him. He’s done his routine hundreds of times before—doing his hair and eyeliner is practically muscle memory, and at this point he's sure he could do it in his sleep. but not today, apparently. Today his alarm goes off late—half an hour late. Which Choso isn’t panicked by, only slightly frustrated, but it's fine. That still leaves him another half an hour to get ready, so there's still plenty of time given that it only takes him 10–15 minutes to get ready, so it's fine. Everything is fine; he repeats it in his head like a mantra, like if he thinks it and says it enough, he’ll actually believe it.

Choso quickly dresses, then sits at his desk, where a little mirror sits. He sighs as he flips on a lamp and grabs his eyeliner. He doesn’t even have to think about it, instinctively taking the cap off and bringing it to his eye, only for it to crumble as it meets his waterline. Choso cusses under his breath as he blinks, attempting to get whatever fell into his eye out. When that doesn't work, he rubs his eye, only for it to spread eyeliner all across his eye and cheek. He groans, grabbing a cloth to wipe it off with, and once his face is clean, he doesn't even bother trying with his eyeliner again—looking at the time, he’s already wasted more than he wanted doing that. He’ll just do his hair and leave, or else he’ll be late.

Choso stills for a moment, forcing himself to take a deep breath to try and calm the nerves and frustration simmering beneath his skin—it's fine. He nods. Now somewhat calmer, he grabs his hair ties and gets to work… only for one of them to break as he’s trying to put his hair through it. Choso stares at himself in the mirror, eyes narrowed and swallowing harshly, as he desperately tries to ignore the rising heat going to his cheeks.

Whatever.

It's fine.

He’ll just do the other side of his hair...only for the same thing to happen. Choso can actively feel his heart racing—it's pounding against his chest and ringing in his ears—and he’s already too far gone to notice or even stop the tears from falling down his cheeks. He doesn’t really know why he’s actually crying, if he’s being honest. It’s not like this is the end of the world; he knows that, yet he can't stop himself. Too many things have gone wrong, and he’s barely woken up. First, his alarm goes off late, which isn't the most horrible thing within itself, but then his eyeliner crumbles and gets in his eye, and when he tries to wipe it away, it instead smears on his face. Then he rubs his face raw, trying to get it off, and now he can't do his fucking hair because his hair ties suddenly decided to disintegrate and snap in half.

He messily wipes at his tears and tries inhaling deeply for air in a feeble attempt to calm himself the tiniest bit down. It doesn't do anything. In fact, it makes things worse. His tears fall harder, and he’s choking in shallow breaths of air. If anyone walked in right this moment, they’d think something horrible happened, like one of his brothers died. and it's just his luck, or a very obvious lack thereof, when you walk in. Choso immediately starts scrambling to wipe his tears away and hide his face from you as you drop your things in shock—you hadn’t expected him to still be in the dorm, let alone be here crying.

“Holy shit, Choso, are you okay? What's wrong? Did something happen?” You panic, immediately running to his side.

He doesn’t say anything; he just takes in and lets out shaky breaths as he shakes his head, one arm outstretched to keep you at arm's length.

You frown and look around. For what? You’re not sure. Part of you thinks if you look hard enough, you'll find why he’s crying, but all you see are snapped hair ties, a crumbled, unsharpened eyeliner pencil, and a cloth full of eyeliner. That’s when it all starts to make sense. You smile softly at him, who's still hiding his red tear-stained face from you, before you grab his comb and a new pair of hair ties from his desk.

Choso doesn’t know what you're doing when he hears you shuffling around, and he refuses to meet your gaze, filled to the brim with embarrassment at having been caught crying, but his head involuntarily snaps up, looking at you through the mirror, when he feels you start to brush his hair. You're already staring back at him and flashing him a warm smile, not saying a word as you continue to detangle his hair.

“You don't have to do this,” he sniffles, finally calming down enough to say something.

"I know I don't," you shrug. "But I also know it sucks when it seems like nothing is working or going to plan, so..."

"I can do it myself-“

"Choso, just let me do this for you, please.”

He stares at you for a moment, studying your face as if trying to find something, and when he finds nothing but your soft eyes and willingness—your desire—to do this for him, he sighs and nods. You beam and gleefully get back to work on his hair, and Choso finds that he’s no longer embarrassed by being seen crying but rather by the fact he feels like a doll—but the worst part? It's kind of nice.

He likes having someone do this for him with no hesitation; he likes the way your fingers carefully rake through his hair to ensure there's no tangles even though you just combed it; he likes the way you don't tie the ponytails too tight like he usually does, which only results in a pounding headache he can't get rid of; he likes all of it.

He likes all of it so much so that he finds himself closing his eyes in complete bliss, drowning in your gentle touches. You poof up one of his ponytails a bit, ready to tell him you're done, when you look into the mirror and notice his eyes closed, looking like he’s in a whole other world. You can't fight your smile off as you play with his ponytail for a bit longer before slowly wrapping your arms around him and resting your head on his shoulder.

“What do you think?” You whisper, your breath softly fanning against his ear.

Choso opens his eyes, surprised to see you pretty much hugging him from behind, yet he doesn't hate it, not one bit. Too caught up about how much he does not hate this; he doesn't respond, and it makes you nervous.

“Sorry… I know they don't look exactly like how you usually do them, but-“

"No, no,” he cuts you off quickly. “They look amazing... Thank you, y/n...”

You smile, happy with his answer, as you untangle yourself from him and stand up. “You should head out now, Choso; you're late.”

He blinks, totally forgetting about class, and hurriedly stands up. "Right, thank you again,” is all he’s saying before rushing out the door.

You giggle slightly before yawning and making your way to your bed, ready for your usual nap, when Choso comes rushing back into the dorm again. You stare at him wide-eyed, and he simply stares back.

You furrow your eyebrows, confused, and are about to ask if he's okay when suddenly he blurts out:

"I wouldn’t mind if you did my hair again.”

©TODAYISAWTHEWHXLEWXRLD

[dumbseee]

you’re losing me. pt.2.

part 1.

daniel ricciardo x singer!reader.

fc: bibi (korean singer)

note: this won’t have a part 3.

y/n just posted a story!

caption: red bull for the win :)

you finally had a day off after months of being at the studio, working your ass off for your upcoming album. you also needed that day to finally relax and focus on yourself after how horrible these past few days have been. you thought that you and daniel were meant to be, but apparently he couldn’t picture a future with you in it. when max called you late that night when you were still crying over the break up, and told you that daniel actually broke up with you because he cheated, you thought you’d die of heartbreak. the very next day, max came to your house and stayed with you to cheer you up. but of course, max was just a friend to you, and most importantly he was daniel’s best friend. as much as you hated him at the moment, you couldn’t do that to him.

you were watching your comfort show when the bell rang, you frowned since you didn’t expect anyone today but still got up to open the door. what surprise it was to find daniel, on your door step, completely wet because of the pouring rain. your eyes widened at the sight. "d-daniel? what the-…" he cut you off immediately. "max lied to you, he lied, i never cheated on you i swear on my fucking like y/n, you have to trust me please. i never loved anyone more than you, i would never do-…" he said quickly, you didn’t understood everything. "woah, woah, woah, get in first you’re going to catch a cold!" you shoved him inside your house and closed the door behind you. you grabbed a dry towel and threw it at him. "thanks." he simply said, you crossed your arms and looked at the ground. "can you repeat what you said? we’re not in a rap show so slow down." he nodded before taking a breath. "max lied to you, i never cheated." you frowned and looked at him completely confused, why would max lie to you?

"daniel, why would max do that to you? he’s your best friend for god’s sake." you said, throwing your arms in the hair, you were completely lost and frustrated. daniel took out his phone and showed you his last messages with max. your heart slowly dropped to your stomach as you finally discover the truth. daniel wasn’t lying and max betrayed the both of you. you didn’t know what to say, so you simply let yourself fall on your couch. daniel followed you and sat next to you. the driver didn’t know what to do, he saw how miserable you were right now and tried to think of something to cheer you up. "i believed him instead of you." was the only thing you said, you were so disappointed in yourself. daniel looked at you and took your hand. "i don’t blame you for that, i would’ve reacted the same way to be honest. and maybe max is right." you looked up at him, trying your best not to cry. "i was just a stupid coward, i never loved anyone or anything more than i love you y/n, no one ever made me feel like you make me feel. i guess that scared me." he looked at the ground while you gave his hand a gentle squeeze. "you were scared of falling in love?" you asked, softly. he nodded and intertwined his fingers with yours. "but i’m done being a coward, i know that i hurt you y/n, and i know it will take time but do you think that you’ll be able to forgive me?" you smiled before jumping in his arms.

he did hurt your feelings, but you missed your danny.

liked by landonorris, y/n, carlossainz55 and 4 719 929 others.

danielricciardo: love always triumphs :)

_

y/n: ♥️

landonorris: i missed you guys

danielricciardo: awwww

landonorris: i actually missed y/n more but had to include you too

fan1: i’m so glad they sorted it out, it would’ve been a shame if they stayed on bad terms

fan2: i feel so bad for daniel tho, he lost his best friend he always referred to max as the person he trusted the most

fan3: max needs to be held accountable tho, how could he do this??

fan4: y/n in her reputation era was a slay but y/n back in her lover era is better because she’s happier

fan5: these two are made for each other, i hope they finally understood it

fan6: the caption omg

fan7: her smile always shines the brightest when she’s with daniel

fan8: we got y/niel back but lost maxiel forever :(

fan9: max literally LIED to y/n so she would hate daniel, my guy is better off without him tbh

fan10: right?? i don’t understand people saying they’ll miss maxiel when max has been a terrible friend to daniel, he literally tried to ruin his relationship with y/n

fan11: now get married

fan12: please be good to her :(((

view all comments.

taglist: @iissza @ferrariloverr @eugene-emt-roe @hrlzy @pampeop @celesteblack08 @sialexia @myxticmoon @lifesuckslife @slut4peterparker @leclerc16s @incoherenciass @gaviypedrisbride @gaslysainz @lazybot @xjval

[willowser]

*this was—apparently—in my queue on my nsfw blog, and i must have scheduled it so far out so that it wasn't taking up room in my drafts, and the day that i scheduled it came to pass and it posted on a locked blog and i didn't even know about it until now hehe

i actually get a little sad, thinking of pro hero touya !! especially in the case of knowing him before it all, when he was still eighteen and scrawny, angst-fueled, acne on his cheeks 🥺

you're the first person he's ever had like this. you're not necessarily dating, because endeavor wouldn't allow such a possibility, such a distraction, but you walk with him after school and occasionally stay for dinner, sometimes come over to study on weekends. rei let you hang around until the early hours of the morning once, lazing on the couch with all her kids, watching movies while enji was on night patrol.

there isn't much time the two of you have to yourselves, outside of school and touya's siblings, so the relationship is platonic for the most part (save for the few brave late night texts that have been exchanged, the handful of goodbye kisses you've managed to sneak on his doorstep). the furthest it ever goes is on the couch upstairs, one weeknight when his dad is gone and everyone else is meant to be asleep.

it's hard, being that age and having to settle for hands held under the table, fleeting looks across the room when the tv goes dark. it freaks him out, too, wanting something—you, in more ways than one—when he knows his main focus should be graduation, his reputation, training. his future.

but you're so—comforting, and you couldn't care less about who his dad is or who touya is supposed to be one day; you're here, always, for who he is now. for his home-pierced lip and chipping nail polish and red, embarrassed cheeks. for just touya.

and so he really goes for it in the moment he can, manages to unbutton your shirt enough to slip his hand inside it. and he's never touched someone like this before, so even though you're shy about your simple, plain bra—he really isn't paying attention to that, just the tender weight of your breast in his hand. how soft and squishy it is.

by now, you've managed to figure out the kissing thing: it had been a bit awkward before—when to move his head, where to fit his nose—and it all had to be done quick, in case anyone was coming around the corner, and he really should still be worried about that, but his head is only full of you, you, you.

especially when you unzip his slacks enough to fit your hand, his whole body stiffening when your fingers brush the material of his boxers, touching him in a way he's only done to himself. it doesn't go too far—though touya is more than preparing himself to lose his virginity on this couch—but there's such severity to the want flowing through his veins, an intensity he'd never felt before then.

of course natsuo ruins it, by shouting at the top of his lungs that touya's got his pants down, even though he totally doesn't, and—

maybe that's all he gets from you, before his future finally comes for him.

gradation and becoming a side-kick, joining endeavor's agency, adjusting to the new hero life; it becomes a lot for him, and now that enji has the chance to be more heavily involved in touya's every step—he loses you along the way. gets swept up in the tide of fame and glory and all that his dad has ever wanted for him.

but i think—no matter how many people he sleeps with, how many people come in and out of his bed as the years pass, he'll never forget how he felt on that couch during that late night. how special you felt to him. how special he felt to you.

[dandelionfairyyy]

30 hours J. H.

Pairing: Jay Halstead x female!reader

Warnings: mention of injuries and violence, swearing, slight mention of blood, kidnapping, possible bad writing and mistakes

Wordcount: 4,076

A/N: please be kind, this is the first oneshot I wrote in a year or two and I am still super unhappy with this, but keep working on it would just make it worse I think. And my friends said I should just post it, so … Also, English is not my first language, please keep that in mind while reading. I hope you’ll like it anyway

Now without further ado… I present to you:

30 hours

You rub your face sleepily as you slowly wake up.

As you feel the weight of an arm around your waist, you can't help but smile.

You turn to Jay, whose arm is pressing you against him.

What started as a friendship has become so much more. And yesterday he finally asked you to marry him.

Gently you trace the contours of his face with your finger. Memories of last night come flooding back and you bite your lower lip as you think of Jay treating you to a little corner cafe before you took a walk along the Chicago River and him finally getting down on one knee in front of you.

Your eyes fall on the beautiful silver ring with the little stone set in it, on your finger.

"Morning," you say as you see Jay waking up.

"Morning," he replies in a raspy voice, giving you a smile that takes your breath away. "Sleep well?"

You nod before reaching a little further towards him and placing your lips on his.

God, you still can't believe that this wonderful man is now your fiancé.

Happily, you smile into the kiss and slightly part your lips for him. You feel his tongue gently nudging against yours and you feel yourself catapulted right back to last night. What his tongue had done to you...

You can't hold back a soft moan at the memory and you feel his knowing smile in your kiss.

As it becomes more intimate, Jay rolls over you and....

Your kiss is abruptly interrupted when a cell phone rings somewhere in the room.

Last night, on the way from the door to the bedroom, you had spread your clothes anywhere in the flat. His trousers had apparently made it into the bedroom.

"Don't answer it," you plead, wrapping your arms around his neck, knowing it's Jay's phone because Intelligence most likely has a new lead in the current case and he needs to get to the precinct. "Let's just stay in bed for a week," you suggest, with little hope of agreement, though.

Jay leans down a little towards you and kisses you intimately again for a few seconds before pulling away and going in search of his jeans. "As tempting as that sounds, I'm afraid I can't do that."

You sit up with a sigh as he gets out of bed and fishes the phone out of his pocket.

As expected, there's a new lead that needs to be followed up.

So you get up to make breakfast to go for him as he heads into the bathroom for a quick shower.

Wearing only one of Jay's t-shirts, you are standing at the kitchen counter pouring coffee into a to-go mug when you feel your fiancé standing behind you.

His hands are on your hips as he plants a kiss on your cheek.

"My angel," he murmurs and you turn your head so that your lips meet. "Have I ever told you how much I love you?"

"Once or twice..." you reply with a smirk.

"So not often enough."

You press the sandwich and the to-go mug of coffee into his hand and push him towards the door.

"I love you, too. And now you have to go. Work needs to be done."

It's Saturday, so you don't have to work and can devote yourself to other things, like grocery shopping or housekeeping.

Jay steals one last kiss before disappearing out the door with a "love you".

Heavens, even though you've known each other for five years and been a couple for three, you're still as much in love with this man as you were at the beginning of your relationship.

At first it was hard for you to come to terms with the fact that Jay often has to work late and sometimes he has to leave just because of work. But by now you've come to terms with it and Jay always makes it up to you in one way or another. Either with a romantic date, or little presents he gives you, and of course with the love he gives you every single day.

Lost in thought, you finally make your way to the supermarket. But soon you wish you had just stayed in bed with Jay.

"Y/N?", you hear an unknown voice behind you and turn around in confusion.

You don't know the man standing in front of you. But he seemed to know your name. He held out a wallet to you. "You just lost this," he says.

Unsure, you take it from him and look inside. Indeed, it contains your driver's license, your bank card, cash... and yet it is not your wallet. You've never seen this thing before in your life.

What the fuck?

You are about to reply that it is not your wallet when everything happens really fast. A black van pulls up next to you and the man who handed you the wallet before now pushes you backwards so that you lose your balance. Someone behind you catches you and you are finally thrown into the van. Your head hits the wall and an unpleasant hammering makes its way to the back of your head.

Doors slam and two seconds later the van speeds on.

It takes you a few seconds to realize what has just happened.

You have just been kidnapped.

That afternoon, Jay comes home in excitement at the sight of his fiancée in his arms again.

The current case, which has kept them on the go for a fortnight and got Jay out of bed this morning, has now been solved and he just wants to be with you, eat something and sleep.

But when he enters the flat, you are not there.

He checks all the rooms in the flat, but you are not to be found.

Are you with friends and forgot to tell him? Normally you always let him know if you're meeting someone, because you know that otherwise his detective brain will spin banal theories about what might have happened to you.

With a frown, he pulls out his mobile phone and tries to call you. But he is sent straight to voicemail. After the third attempt, he gives up and calls your best friend instead, deeply hoping that you are with her, or at least that she knows where you are.

But with her, too, nothing.

Now Jay is really worried.

Worried, he calls Ruzek, who is a good friend of yours and through whom you and Jay met in the first place, hoping that he is still in the bullpen for paperwork.

Jay was lucky.

"Hey man, what is it?" asked Adam exuberantly.

"Can you ping Y/N's phone? She's not there, I can't reach her, and I don't have a good feeling about this."

"Just a minute," Adam replies, recognising the concern and urgency in Jay's voice.

Shortly afterwards, Adam gives an address of where your cell phone was the last time before it was turned off.

With a quick thank you and a promise to let him know when he has found you, the two colleagues and friends on the phone say goodbye and Jay gets back into his truck to drive to the address.

It wasn't far and as he got out his heart stopped for a moment.

A wallet with your drivers licence is lying on the small footpath of the side street and a few metres away is your phone, the screen shattered. There are black tyre marks on the road from a sharp braking.

Jay pulls out his phone again and calls Adam for a second time.

"Found her?" he asks hopefully, but Jay doesn't even let him speak. "Y/N's been kidnapped."

Jay knows his colleague has just sat up straighter.

"Jay, are you sure?"

"Yes." Jay describes what he sees in front of him and then asks Adam to call the team together.

Less than fifteen minutes later they were all standing on the scene.

"Okay, you know what to do, check PODs, residents' CCTV and ask residents if they saw anything. Jay's girlfriend, one of ours, has been kidnapped. And we're going to get that asshole!" the sergeant ordered his team before putting a comforting hand on Jay's shoulder and saying, "We're going to find Y/N and she's going to get through this. She's tough. You'll see your girlfriend again."

"Fiancée, to be exact," Jay replies, but Voight hadn't heard him anymore.

Back in the bullpen, with all the evidence and statements from the residents, they create a board with all the facts so far. Photos of the skid marks, the wallet and the mobile phone. In the middle hangs a photo of the victim. He has seen this board so many times before, with disturbing and nightmare-inducing images. But now it is different.

Worse. Creepier. Because this time there's a photo of you hanging there.

Jay is standing in front of it, looking at it.

The photo doesn't do you justice, he thinks. The sparkle in your eyes is not there and the smile on your lips is nowhere near as beautiful as he knows it. Everything seems so dull and lifeless ...

An elderly lady watched the abduction from her kitchen window, but thought nothing more of it. However, she was already somewhat demented. Therefore, her statement is less reliable, but her description, apart from a few exceptions, matches those of the other residents of the street.

According to her, a man spoke to you, then a black van appeared, then flew away and you were gone.

Jay ran an agitated hand through his hair. He had to concentrate now. Intelligence had already solved a case with less clues, so they could solve this one too.

At the stroke of midnight, his phone buzzes, showing that he has received a video message.

He plays it while the others look over his shoulder.

There you sit tied to a chair with your cheek visibly reddened and a small gash on your cheekbone.

"Jay. The three wankers in front of me ..." you get kicked in the shin as you insult your captors as wankers and you curse a soft "ouch" before continuing. "Anyway, they want you to turn yourself in, Jay. A trade. I get released and they take you in exchange. In 30 hours, you'll ... what? I can't read the scribbling ...” your look shifts to one of your captors. “If you're going to make me read rubbish like that, at least write it neatly enough so I can read it dramatically ..." you grumble, and Adam has to suppress a snort. It would be funny if it wasn't so serious.

One of the kidnappers gave the address you couldn't read before. "Right there... That's where you'll be standing in thirty hours, unarmed. They will release me and take you with them. Should you not do it, they will kill me."

Your eyes shift from what you are supposed to be reading out and you look at one of your captors. "Oh, go bury yourselves, or throw yourselves in front of a train, I don't mind ..." You wrinkle your nose slightly at the last sentence.

Then one of the kidnappers speaks again, "Detective, follow our instructions or your little friend will die. Know that this is revenge for the death of my brother."

While the kidnapper is still speaking, you shout, "Jay, don't do it! Don't make the trade!"

You catch a slap, your head flies from the punch to the side, and then the video ends.

It's only when he exhales now that Jay realises he's been holding his breath. As did the rest of the team.

Adam made the comment that you're pretty brave to be so defiant to the kidnappers. Or you're tired of living. It's going to be one of those two.

Over the next few hours, Intelligence investigates whose brother it might be, who was capable of such a thing, and where those, as you called them, wankers, might be holding you.

But when nothing new comes of it, Voight sends everyone home for the time being to get some sleep and to be able to continue working in new freshness. After all, they still have 27 hours.

But Jay doesn't want to go home. He could never sleep there now.

In your bed, knowing that you're sitting somewhere kidnapped, tied to a chair....

Which is why Adam finally offers to take him with him, so that he can at least get a little sleep on the couch there.

20 hours until the exchange:

By now they've figured out who wants to see your fiancé suffer.

A few weeks ago Jay had shot someone, Paul Lancaster to be precise, on a case after he in turn had opened fire on him.

Jay had escaped with a bruise at the time due to the vest, but Paul had died on the way to hospital. He had hit well.

Now Paul's brother, Jeremy Lancaster, seemed to want revenge on him and this man had quite an interesting sheet. Jeremy had been charged several times for smaller felonies and had served two years in Stateville for aggravated assault. But even though Intelligence now knows who's holding you, they still have no clue where Jeremy and his two accomplices might be holding you.

Frustrated, Jay now throws a stack of papers against the wall and rubs his face in dissolution.

He's on the verge of giving up, of just turning himself in. He'd rather die than let them hurt you more than they already do.

They went through everything again, repeated all the residents' statements, looked at all the traffic camera recordings, but they got nowhere. The van had disappeared at some point at a corner without video surveillance.

"Play the video again," Jay finally asks Kim, who is currently at her computer trying to draw any clues from it as to where you might be.

"Jay ..." she started, but he interrupted her and took it upon himself to play the video from the beginning.

At the end, when you wrinkle your nose, he pauses the video.

"There! Y/N always wrinkles her nose when she bluffs while playing. I always tease her about it ... because she looks so cute at that moment and it annoys her when I say that, ... that was a hint ... She was giving us a hint."

Kim rewinds a few seconds and plays it again.

Burying themselves ... jumping in front of a train ...

They play the video again and again.

"Train ... bury ... buried train ... underground!", Jay finally combines and writes it immediately on the case board.

Seventeen hours until the exchange:

If they didn't find you soon, Jay knew, he'd turn himself in. No matter what you had said, no matter what Voight will say. He can't let you get hurt.

There are seventeen hours left to find you, and Jay can barely think straight when they find out Jeremy is in an on-off relationship with an Angelina Perry. Maybe she can help.

God, Jay hoped so much.

Adam and Kim bring the girlfriend to the station and Jay watches the questioning through the mirror, his partner, Hailey standing beside him, watching him with concern. She knows how much Jay loves you. Every time Ruzek brings up one of the stories from your childhood and your name comes up, his eyes light up and a smile spreads across his face. But now there was nothing but worry and fear.

"What am I doing here? I don't know any Y/N," Angelina clarifies.

"But you know Jeremy Lancaster. Don't you?" asks Kim, unimpressed.

"Y-yes? Why? Did something happen to him?"

"No ...", Adam picks up, but Jay is no longer listening, because he has just received another video message.

Alarmed, he looks at Hailey, who nods once and finally gets Adam and Kim out of the interrogation room. Meanwhile, Jay gets Voight out of his office and has Kevin run the video from his phone onto the computer.

With held breath, the team watches the video.

You are still sitting in the chair with your head hanging, probably unconscious. Your hair hides the view at your face, but kindly Jeremy grabs your hair ungently and pulls it back so that he lifts your head and the team can see you properly. Your face is swollen and you have a laceration on your forehead, a bruise is starting to form on your left eye.

"Fuck!" curses Jay, even before Jeremy has begun to speak.

"Hello Detective. A real fighter you got yourself into, I'm looking forward to making you feel what I did to her before I shoot you in front of her like you shot my brother. Or would you prefer I shoot her in front of you?"

Jay's blood boils in his veins. He is so angry at this monster of a man called Jeremy Lancaster for laying a hand on you, an absolute innocent.

With his phone in hand, he storms into the interrogation room where Jeremy's girlfriend or ex-girlfriend or whatever is sitting.

With a slam, the door shuts behind Jay. Angelina flinches in fright and looks at the frustrated and distraught detective in front of her.

The rest of the team have followed him and are now watching through the one-sided mirror.

"You better tell me now where your boyfriend likes to hide. Because if he kills her, I'll hold you responsible too!" he threatens, knowing very well that he couldn't do that. But he just wants to have you back, to hold you in his arms again and hear from you that everything will be all right again.

With these words, he slams the mobile phone down on the table and lets the video play.

Angelina looks shocked and tears glisten in her eyes as she watches the video.

"That ... that's Jeremy? Wh-why?"

"His brother Paul messed up and got himself killed. Jeremy blames me and has been holding my fiancée for over 13 hours now. God knows what he's doing to her. And every minute that goes by, he could hurt her. So if you don't want to be responsible for murder, you'd better think really hard about where your boyfriend could be hiding with her!" he rages and Angelina flinches again, however Jay can see that she is starting to think.

The team, watching the whole thing through the mirrored glass, are quite flummoxed. Did Jay just say you were his fiancée?

They all caught your complicated love story, how Jay initially thought you and Adam were a couple and ended up with Erin. How you buried your crush on Jay deep inside when you found out. How you then held him when Erin left, dumped him, and how you both had to get your asses kicked by Kevin and Kim first before you confessed your love to each other.

They know how much Jay loves you and how much you love him. And they have taken you to their hearts as well. As Voight had said, you are one of them, even if you don't work for them. You are their friend. It takes all the more out of them now to know that Jay is not only about to lose his fiancée, but that they could lose their friend.

"Did he ever say anything about an underground or anything?" His voice was no longer loud and threatening now, but quiet and desperate.

One could see it in Angelina's face as she thought of something before she said, "The old underground warehouse...he...he told me once that when he was a kid he used to play in the factory hall with his brother. Maybe that's where they are ... he is ... was ... really close with his brother." With that said, she looks hopefully at the detective in front of her. He nods and finally leaves the interrogation room.

The team leaves the room at the same time as Jay, from where they have been watching everything.

They would all like to say something to him, but they all know that nothing they could say would make anything better.

Sixteen hours until the exchange:

The team storms the building from all three entrances.

Jay and Hailey, Kevin and Kim, and Adam and Voight.

Flash grenades are thrown, "Chicago PD! Drop your weapon! ... Hands in the air! ... on your knees!" are shouted from all sides and Jeremy and his two accomplices had to admit defeat.

Jay's gaze wanders searchingly down the hall and ....

There you lie. On the floor, hands and feet still tied to the fucking chair, not moving. From his position he cannot see if you are still breathing. Your hair covers your face, but you seem unconscious. At least Jay hopes you are only unconscious and nothing more.

God, he hopes so badly that you're still alive.

While the rest of the team arrest Jeremy and his accomplices, Jay gets down on his knees next to you, unties you and frees you from the goddamn chair. You don't move and anxiously he feels your pulse.

It is there, but very weak. But he can't feel relief yet, because as he brushes your hair out of your face, his examining gaze sees not only your wrists, chafed and blue from the ropes, but also your face. A nasty wound is emblazoned on your forehead. One half of your face is covered in blood, the other is red, swollen and a black eye is already forming. What had they done to you?

"Fuck ...", he curses softly and searches frantically for something to press carefully onto the wound.

By now Adam is standing next to him. In his face the same concern as in Jay's when he sees your bruised body and your hair, which is sticky with your blood but still shines moistly. "5021-Ida, shots fired by the offender and the police, offender in custody, one female victim down, multiple trauma to the head and body, roll an ambo to my current location asap," he quickly relays through his radio to the dispatcher.

You hadn't lost much blood yet, but head injuries were always treacherous.

Jay keeps mumbling that you should hang on. That an ambulance is on its way and that you should just hold on a little longer.

Seconds that feel like hours pass.

You hear Jay's voice as if from far away, begging you not to leave him, to open your eyes, to stay with him. You want to follow his plea so much that it seems to tear you apart, but your body no longer obeys you. Several times you try to speak, to say that you hear him, that you are there after all and that you are not planning to go anywhere else. But nothing. Not a single sound comes from your lips. You can't even move your fingers to show that you are still alive, that you can hear him....

Instead, you fight the complete blackness that threatens to overwhelm you. You cling to the love you feel for Jay where you know he returns it. You cling to his voice that seems to fade.

They always say that when you die, a warm white light appears to you, awaiting and welcoming you.

But it is the other way around. The light that holds you begins to shrink and is taken over further and further by the darkness, the blackness, the nothingness. Jay's voice is further and further away. You can barely hear him, barely understand what he is saying. And yet you know that he still commands you to hang on and tells you how much he loves you and can't lose you, that he needs you.

Then suddenly you hear female voices reciting foreign words. "V-fib" is the last thing you hear before there's nothing left. Just the empty, lonely, cold, blackness and you. You wonder if this is what death feels like.

At least you could die knowing what true love feels like. What it feels like to love someone more than yourself and to be loved just as much.

You had the chance to meet Jay and those few years with him were the best of your life.

Jay ...

Your last thought belongs to him, to him alone, and that yesterday morning you didn't say the last "I love you" back.

And then there was nothing. No light, no thought, no blackness. Just nothing.

back to masterlist

[twisted-wonderland-shenanigans]

Hello, I hope you are having a good day or night so far. I just wanted to ask if the monster!au pregnancy fic is still on the table or if it's making your brain unhappy and needs to go on the shelf to think about what it's done?

Either way is fine The most important thing is your mental health. *Finger guns*

Hey! I'm doing okay for the most part. Work and life in general has just been busy as heck, so I've been just working on art and writing for personal enjoyment.

The fic is still coming along well enough! I just wound up having to rewrite from the beginning to get a better flow, and now I'm just dealing with some of the boys being jerks and not cooperating with me 😂 But I am going to be triumphant soon enough! I only have three of the dorm reactions to go before the inevitable chaos. >v>

And just so you guys know, this currently has 9 pages worth of words (size 9 font, by the way), and I'm still not done. This thing is going to be LOOOOOONG compared to some of my other chapters I've posted! 😂

I appreciate the understanding, but not to worry! It's just my perfectionist editing mind that keeps stalling me 😒 But just to show you that progress is being made, I've attached a snippet I've written of a scene that I wanted to add!

Hope you all enjoy, and I'm excited to get closer and closer to finishing it! ÙvÚ

////SNIPPET STARTS BELOW////

It was late at night when Jamil was working in the school cafeteria, requiring the ingredients in the kitchen to make a late night meal for Kalim since the dorm’s kitchen needed a few repairs. The pans sizzled and pots boiled as he stirred and cooked, his hands moving with speed and precision honed by years of cooking. Despite it being late at night, part of him did appreciate the time alone from the dorm to think in private.

Taking a sip of the broth, he hummed in thought before adding some spices to the soup. Just as he was about to sample it again, his ear twitched when he heard movement behind him and turned. “Miss Yuu?” he asked, surprised to see Yuu standing there holding a plate to her chest. By now she was in her eighth month of pregnancy, her stomach swollen to the size of a large watermelon. “What are you still doing up?”

“I couldn’t sleep,” she said sheepishly. “Since the due date is getting closer, the researchers moved me to a new room here in the school just in case. It’s easier for them to get to me here than it is to Ramshackle. So I thought walking around a little would help, but then I smelled something good and…well…”

When she hesitated, he asked, “Pregnancy cravings again?”

She nodded. He hummed in thought. Apparently human cravings during pregnancy was no different than how monsters would instinctively do the same to sustain themselves and their unborn children. “A lack of food sources can have a negative effect the body,” one researcher explained once when he’d been passing by the infirmary during one of Yuu’s exams. “Whether human or monster, if the expecting mother doesn’t eat enough to sustain the pregnancy or produce the milk needed to feed the baby, her body will begin to take its own nutrients. This can be dangerous and increase the risk of her breaking her bones, so that’s why it’s important to ensure Yuu has an ample supply of food at her disposal at such a critical stage.”

Knowing this, Jamil held out his hand and smiled. “The soup isn’t done yet, but you can have some of the main dish in the meantime,” he told her, dishing out the food from the skillet. “It’s a simple meal from the Land of Scalding Sands, but I know Kalim wouldn’t mind sharing it with you.” With a deadpan smile, he said, “In fact, he’d insist on it if he were here.”

“Thank you so much!” she said, accepting the offered plate and pausing to breathe in the aroma. He could practically see her drooling before she dug in, happily humming as she sat in the nearby stool. “Oh my gosh, this is so good…can you teach me how to make this?”

“Sure,” he said with a genuine smile. “I know you can’t control your cravings, so if you ever want more, just let me know.”

“Thank you!”

They spent some time casually chatting as the soup finished cooking, the gorgon feeling at ease around her. By the time the soup was done and he’d put some in a container for her, he handed another plate of the main dish to her and bid her good night. As she waddled away, he couldn’t shake the image of a penguin returning triumphantly from a hunt and stifled a snort of amusement.

[dbnightingale24]

React

A Stepcest Love Story About Jim

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Chapter 1, Chapter 2

Trying to decide if I should do one update or two this weekend. Either way, I hope you all enjoy it!

Word Count: 4,963

Warning(s): SMUT (MINORS DNI), Swearing, Family Drama, Infidelity, Step-Daughter/Step-Father relations, Emotional Cheating, Drinking, Arguing, Forbidden Love, Lying, Self Loathing, Sneaking Around...I think that's it.

Summary: This is the final straw that breaks the camel's back.

~~

I do not give permission/consent for my stories/works to get posted elsewhere. I do not condone this type of relationship/behavior, this is for entertainment purposes only.

~~

~~

Chapter 3

2 Weeks Later...

Ever since you and Jim fell asleep holding each other close on your bed, you’ve done your best to stay away. Coming up with any excuse to reject any invite your Mother extends. It was silly of you to think that she wouldn’t ask Jim to text you on her behalf. 

Unknown Number: Y/N?

Y/N: Who is this?

Unknown Number: Uh, it’s Jim.

Y/N: How did you get my number?

Unknown Number: Your Mother.

Y/N: Of course. Of course.

Unknown Number: She thinks you’re mad at her because you won’t come over, and thinks you’ll talk to me.

Y/N: I’m not mad at anyone, it’s just better for me to stay away.

Unknown Number: We don’t think so.

Y/N: Jim...don’t.

Unknown Number: Nothing happened.

Y/N: Did you tell her?

Unknown Number: No, because there’s nothing to tell her.

On the one hand, you know that the both of you know that’s total bullshit. On the other hand, technically, nothing did happen. Plus, you know the more you stay away, the more she’s going to bother you and Jim which wouldn’t be good either. So, you explain everything to Ciara, and while she gives you a stern talking to, she agrees to accompany you to whatever your Mother invites you to.

“So, are you two a thing now?” she scoffed once she poured the both of you a cup of coffee.

“That’s not funny.”

“You’re the one who cuddled him-”

“We were both just drunk and overwhelmed. You know how I get when I’m drunk, and you know I only drink like that when I’m around her, Rose, or the both of them at once.”

“Fair point. Well, how do you feel about him?”

“I don’t know? Nothing. He’s my stepfather-”“Yeah, cause that matters.”

“Ci, I’m sitting here asking you to be my decoy. I’m very much aware of what can’t happen.”

“It’s not like you need someone to play devil’s advocate in this situation, but she did go out of her way to keep him a secret and make you the bad guy.”

“He’s good for her and I don’t need her thinking I took someone else from her-”“You’ve never taken anything from her.”“You and I both know that’s not how she views any of it. She had no problems until she got knocked up with me.”

“I hate your Mother.”“Yeah, I know,” you laughed. “Just gotta get through the Summer,” you smiled weakly.

The plan worked well enough, because whenever Ciara didn’t feel like being there or could sense that you were feeling uncomfortable, she could easily say- 

“Darragh needs help with Nora, she’s become really fussy lately. I’m sorry, but we have to go. Y/N is always our last hope if we can’t calm her ourselves.”

Well, apparently that excuse was working too well, because two nights ago you got a call you’d been praying to avoid.

“Jim’s children are coming over this weekend! You’ll be able to make it, right?” your Mother beamed as soon as you picked up the phone.

Jim had to be standing right next to her. 

“Oh...why would I be coming?”

“To meet them! They’re your step-siblings!”

“Uh...Ciara and I made plans with Darragh, cause he’ll be dropping Nora. We figured we all go out.”

“That’s even better! We can all hangout together!”

“Mum, why not-”

“Y/N, it’ll be good for everyone. They need to meet you. We’re all a family now.”

How the fuck is this your fault?

“Yeah, you’re right. Fine.”

“Why are you upset?”“I’m not upset about anything. I’ll see you then-”

“You don’t know the time-”“Just text it to me,” you bit before hanging up.

All of this leads to why you’re currently pacing around in your childhood bedroom. You don’t even know why you’re flustered. You already knew he has children, so why does it matter so much? Why do you care if they like you? It shouldn’t make a difference whether they like you or not. It’s not like you’re going to be hanging around much, especially when you go back to school, so why it driving you mad now?

“Hey, you okay?” Jim asks softly as he makes his way into your room, closing the door behind him.

You just glare at him as you continue to pace.

“What? This wasn’t my idea. We got to talkin’ about doin’ somethin’ small for the weekend, and she realized that my children haven’t met you, and decided to put this together.”

“You don’t want me to meet them?”

“It’s not that.”

“Well, what is it, then?”

“I don’t want them to meet you like this. All flustered and mad-”

“I’m not mad.”

“Don’t be a liar.” “I shouldn’t even be here. What the fuck?!”

“Calm down,” he begs softly, placing his hands on either side of you.

God, you hate how much you’ve missed his touch.

“They’re going to love you, today is going to be fine, and it’ll be done with before you know.”

“How do you know they’ll love me?”

“I know my kids.” “Jim-”

“Don’t stay away anymore.” “God, I can’t have that talk right now.” “What talk?”

“Don’t make me feel stupid on top of everything else!”

“We didn’t do anything-” “Jim, you flirted with me that night. We were standin’ outside my room, you flirted with me, and I liked it. I liked it a lot. Then, we stayed up talking and fell asleep holding each other...I shouldn’t be here.”

“Angel-” “You’re married to my Mother, Jim! My Mother! I can’t...we can’t-”

Taking a deep breath, he releases you and looks down at you. His eyes search the features, while you get lost in his ocean blue eyes.

“I don’t want...we just get along,” he smiles softly at you. “Aren’t we supposed to? I’m not trying to be some sort of father figure in your life, because you clearly don’t need one. If it’ll make you feel better, I’ll only speak to you when you’re here-”

“It won’t, Jim. That’s the problem. It will just-”

“Here you two are!” Ciara whisper yells as she makes her way into your room. “Lover boy, I’m gonna need you to get down there and rein in your wife.” “What do you mean?”

“Her nerves are winning the battle and shes started drinking.” He scowls as he storms out, “fucks sake!”

You finally feel like you can breathe again. 

“What the fuck was that?!”

Shaking your head, you make your way over to your bed and sit, “I shouldn’t be here.”

“You tried to get out of it-”

“Ci, I shouldn’t be here. I should be as far away from him as possible, and-”

“Why...you don’t...Y/N-”

“It’s just a crush,” you quickly defend, but the scoff that leaves her mouth lets you know that she doesn’t believe you at all. “It is!”

“Your stepfather?”

“I haven’t even known him that long! Okay, this is exactly what I mean. I shouldn’t be here.”

“Alright, his kids aren’t here yet. Darragh is already fed up with your Mother, so it shouldn’t be hard for us to get out of here.” Grabbing your hand, she quickly leads you out of the room, “lets go.”

Ciara and Darragh exchange a look as he bounces Nora in his arms, and as  soon as her foot hits the bottom step, and he’s instantly getting up, Nora giggling at his fast movement. They decided to bring her last minute, and it honestly brought you more comfort than you thought it would. 

“Y/M/N I just remembered, I told my parents we’d come by today with Y/N, and it’s too late to cancel-”

“Nonsense!” your Mother slurs as she appears with a smile painted on her face, as an exasperated Jim follows behind her. “The kids are excited and almost here-”

“I figure we can leave now and just come back tomorrow for lunch or something. They’re here for the-”

He’s cut off by the doorbell ringing, and you close your eyes in defeat. Fuck.

You muster the best smile you can as you make your way to the front door, “Hi, I’m Y/N.”

His ex-wife has mixture of irritation and anger on her face, but she does her best to hide it with a smile. 

“You must be the stepdaughter,” she smiles bitterly, and you force yourself to swallow down your irritation.

You still don’t even know how you ended up in this situation.

“I’m Y/N,” you greet as the two children run towards Jim, who’s more than happy to greet them and give them bear hugs.

You hate how much it pulls on your heartstrings.

“Hey Danielle!” your Mother slurs and Danielle looks completely taken aback.

It’s not as if you can blame her.

“It’s been a while!”

“I’ve been so busy,” your Mother laughs, engulfing her in a hug.

You just want the ground to swallow you whole. 

You shake your head and offer a kind smile towards Danielle before telling her, “my best friend, her boyfriend and child, and I will be here all night.”

“Glad to hear it,” she laughs awkwardly, once your Mother finally lets go of her.

“Thanks for bringing ‘em, Danielle,” Jim offers softly as he comes up behind you, mindlessly resting his hand on your shoulder.

The look on her face lets you know that she thinks this is Peyton’s Place, or something close to it. Once again: you can’t blame her.

“You’ll give me a ring if something happens, yeah?” she asks Jim.

“Of course,” he promises with a small chuckle.

Danielle gives your Mother one last look before looking at you and nodding, turning, and leaving.

“Who’s up for a movie?!” you ask excitedly, turning around and making your way back into the house, being met with cheers.

God save you from the hell that’s about to reign down on you.

**

“It’s like your Mother constantly goes out of her way to be a bitch,” Ciara scowls and you laugh.

You’ve done your best to keep your Mother at bay, but it’s been useless. You gave the children (your “siblings”) a choice between ‘Shrek’ and ‘Robots’, and you were so happy they chose ‘Robots’. Your Mother always hated Shrek (for reasons forever unknown to you), and you were afraid it would’ve pushed her further into whatever anxiety depressed state she was in. Turns out, no matter what, she was determined to push herself further into her stupor.

“They really seem to fuckin’ love you,” she slurred as she plopped herself down on one of the kitchen chairs, drink in hand. 

“Mother, stop,” you snapped, “these are your stepchildren! Get it together!”

“Why did ya even have to come home?”

“You invited me for the Summer!”

“Ya just had to-”

“Go to bed,” 

“Is everythin’ okay in here?” Jim asked softly as he made his way into the kitchen. 

“As if you give a fuck,” she mumbled before she took another sip of her drink.

“Stop it!” you snapped again in a hushed tone. “Go upstairs and sleep it off.”

“I’m your Mother!”

“It’s a shame you’ve never acted like it. Now go!”

She mumbled something incoherent as she grabbed her glass and got up. She glared at you before got on her tiptoes and kissed Jim on the cheek, then finally made her way upstairs. You wanted to throw the bottle against the wall, but you knew it would only make things worse for everyone involved.

“Angel-”

“You sure picked a real fuckin’ winner,” you scoffed humorlessly as you started to pace.

“Just calm down-”

“Are ya okay?”

“I’m fine, just take a moment,” he begged as he stood in front of you.

“This was her idea and...I’m leaving tomorrow.”

“Don’t do that.”

“Why not? Me being here only makes things worse. Only makes her worse.”

“I want you here.”

“Once I’m gone, she’ll be back to the way she was before. You’ll be living in wedded bloody bliss again in no time.”

“Angel, you don’t get it,” he chuckled humorlessly as he cupped your face and looked down at you.

“Fuck.”

“Yeah.”

“Jim...no. If anything, that means that I really need to leave.”

“I won’t...I can’t. We can’t...right?”

“Of course!”

“Then why are you lookin at me like that?” he asked softly.

You should’ve moved away from him. You should’ve said ‘no’, but you just stood there like deer stuck in the headlights.

“Tell me you’ll stay.”

“Jim I...”

“Say it, Angel.”

“It’s not right.”

“I know, but I can’t stop it. I don’t want to.”

“I’m your stepdaughter, Jim. This can’t happen.”

“Do you really feel that way? Do you look to me as a Father figure?”

“You know I don’t, but...you’re married. To my Mother.”

“Angel, I have tried so hard, but this...this feels right. Doesn’t it feel right to you? Like it should’ve always been like this?”

“Jim-”

“Doesn’t it feel right?”

You inhaled deeply before you closed your eyes, “yes.”

“I want to be yours, Angel.”

“Jim...stop it. We can’t do this. You’re just mad at her right now, and you have every right to be. You’ll feel differently in-”

“It’s never felt like this with her. Even before you, I’ve never felt the same towards her as I do for you, or for anyone for that matter. I didn’t know I could.”

“Please don’t tell me this. I can’t hear it, Jim.”

“Then let me show you.”

He didn’t give you a chance to even think before he crashed his lips into yours. You hated how natural it felt, because it was wrong. It was wrong on so many levels. The kiss was gentle, but desperate, like he knew it wouldn’t last long. Like he knew it couldn’t last long. Instinctively, you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him closer, loving the way your bodies meshed together as you tried to sear this moment and feeling into your brain. 

You knew this could never happen again.

He backed you against the kitchen wall and gripped your ass tight, before he hoisted you up and you wrapped your legs around his slim frame. The man didn’t look it, but he was stronger than you imagined.

And you’d imagined a lot.

You moaned as he started to kiss down from your jawline to your neck, “Jim...please.”

“I’ll do anything you want, Angel. Just tell me what you want.”

“You,” you whimpered as you ground yourself against him.

“Fuck!”

“I just want you!” you assured him as quietly as you could. “I just need you!”

“Can’t wait to-”

“Dad! Do you need help with anythin’?!” his son called from the living area, and it pulled you both out of your trances.

“No, I’ll be back with the popcorn soon!” Jim called as he looked up into your eyes. 

When the hell did he even start making popcorn?

He slowly put you down as he let out a heavy sigh, “I’m sorry, I just couldn’t...we shouldn’t keep dancing around this.”

“I’ll leave in the morning-”

“I don’t want that at all. Stay tonight and we’ll figure this all-”

“Jim, this can’t happen again. Ever again.”

“We both want it to-”

“This will fan out before it even has a chance to turn into anything-”

“I love you.”

“Stop it, Jim.”

“I love you. I’m in love with you.”

“I’m just a nice vacation from my Mother, and you’ll-”

“You think that’s all I want? Close your legs to me forever, I’ll still want you, Angel.”

“Jim-”

“We can figure this out.”

“We have! We can’t do this ever again.”

He chuckled humorlessly as he pressed himself against you, “is that what you truly believe? That this is the end of it?”

“Jim-”

“Dad!” his son yelled, which only made him chuckle softly.

“I’m comin’” he called back. “This isn’t done,” he promised before he walked away.

Since that little incident in the kitchen, you’ve avoided all eye contact with Jim, as well as any close encounters. You feel like everyone will know if you two lock eyes, and you truly can’t deal with that right now. You can’t deal with any of it. How the hell did it even get this point? Just this morning, he told you that there’s nothing to be worried about, and now...?

You can’t do this. You can’t fall for this trap. He’s just hurting, and it’ll all go to shit. How can he be in love with you? He barely even knows you, but he claims to be in love with you? How would it even work? It can’t. Your Mother will hate the both of you, and she’d have every right. This is so-

“Babe, did you hear me?” Ciara laughs softly, pulling you out of your thoughts.

“I’m sorry, no, I’m so drained,” you chuckle softly, shaking your head.

You’ve got to stop.

“Are you sure you don’t wanna stay over tonight?”

“I should stay. Who knows what she’ll be like in the morning, and I don’t want the kids dealing with her with just Jim. If the day needs to be saved, I’ll be here.”

“Well, aren’t you noble? Well, that and I’m sure you want to continue what you and Jim started.”

You can feel your blood freezing.

“What...how...?”

“Besides the way you avoided him like the plague, I was going in there to check on you, and saw you up against the wall, and him being the reason for it.”

“Oh my God!”

“I’m not going to say anything and I’m not going to judge you. However, you two do need to figure this out, and figure it out soon.”

 “I don’t even know how it got to this point. He claims he’s in love with me, but how can that be? Besides, there’s no way we can actually be together,” you groan, dropping your face into your hands. “The smart thing to do is to leave, isn’t it?”

“It is.”

“Then why is so damn hard for me to agree to leave?”

“Because you like him...a lot.”

“I’ve barely even spent time with him.”

“But the time ya have spent with him has been intimate. You both got to know each other in a personal way.”

“He’s my stepdad!”

“It’s not like you’re a child. You’re a grown woman.”

“He’s married to my Mother.”

“Because that’s goin’ so well.”

“She was fine until I came home.”

“She invited you home for the Summer! She has no reason to act like this, besides, if you didn’t set her off something else would have. She can only hide her real self for so long.”

“What if he’s actually good for her?”

“You think she can come back from this? Babe, even if he doesn’t end up with you, he’s never going to stay with her. Especially after that spectacle tonight,” she scoffs while placing her hands on her hips. “In case you forgot, she didn’t tell you that she got married.”

“C, this isn’t right.”

“I never said that it was. It’s backwards as shit, but I’ve seen the way you two look at one another. The way you both try not to look at one another. There’s something between the both of you.”

“There shouldn’t be. There shouldn’t be for so many reasons,” you sob as tears fill your eyes.. “God, maybe I’ll just head back early-”

“And go where? Do what?”

“C-”

“Just talk to him. He clearly has some things he needs to say so, at least, clear the air.”

“I can’t think when I’m around him.”

“I don’t think he’s much better, love,” she giggles softly as she gives your hand a gentle squeeze.

“I shouldn’t be this torn up about this.”

“The heart wants what it wants. Like I said, just talk. See what happens,” she smiles reassuringly before wrapping you in a tight hug. “It’s gonna be okay.”

“I don’t see how it can be.”

“Just give it time. Everything in life requires time,” she assures you, letting go as both Darragh and Jim walk in. “Tell me how it goes.”

She gives you a quick kiss on the cheek along with a reassuring nod, before making her way over to Darragh, taking his hand, and walking out. You hear Nora coo softly when Ciara lifts her up, and a small smile comes to your face.

You’d choose her life over yours any day, honestly.

The door closes and you know you’re alone with Jim which, in some ways, is the last thing you want.

“Where are the kids?” you ask softly, avoiding Jim’s heated and heavy gaze.

“Everyone’s asleep, Angel,” he promises as he corners you.

That nickname is gonna drive you insane.

“Then we should be too.”

“We’re not done-”

“Jim, I’m just a welcomed distraction. You’ll get over this. Over me.”

“I don’t want to-”

“Jim, we can’t-”

“I know your heart rate speeds up when we’re alone, Angel. Mine does too. You want me the same way I want you.”

“Sex and intimacy are not the same thing.”

“And I never said that’s what this is.”

“Jim, this can’t happen anymore-”

“You don’t think about me the same way I think about you? You don’t want me in the same way I want you?”

“She’s my Mother, Jim.”

“Do you think of me as your Stepfather? As your Father?”

“You know I don’t.”

“Then what’s wrong?” he asks as he cups your face.

“This can be the only time we do this,” you breathe as he closes the space between the both of you. “Fuck.”

“There’s my good girl,”

“Jim...we can still stop.”

“We don’t want to.”

“We shouldn’t in here,” you breathe, mind foggy as you feel his breath on your neck.

“Anything and anywhere you want,” he husks before planting feverish kisses along your neck.

Fuck, is this really going to happen?

“Maybe...maybe we should wait-”

“I can’t wait anymore, Angel.”

“What if she wakes up?”

He’s quicker than you ever imagined as he stands up straight and leads you through the house. Almost in an instant, he’s leading you downstairs and into the spare room your grandparents had made for you to hide in when their arguments with your Mother got to be too much for you.

“Problem solved,” he husks before crashing his lips into yours.

It’s wrong, on so many levels, but it feels so good. He feels so good.

“Tell me this isn’t just sex,” you moan while he kisses down your body.

“Angel, this is so much more to me,” he promises, unbuttoning your shorts and pulling down. “I love you so much,” he groans, taking in your scent.

“Jim!”

“Been dreamin’ of this cunny, Angel. Let Daddy have a taste.”

You bite down hard on your bottom and swallow down your moan as he starts to suck on your clit. Lulling your head back, you close your eyes and grip his hair tight, quickly forgetting about all the guilt you felt only moments ago.

You gasp when you feel two slender fingers push their way inside, “fuck! You’re so....ahh fuck!” you whimper as quietly as you can.

Feeling the vibration from his moaning, has you ready to cum on the spot, but you’re not ready for it to end so fast.

Jim isn’t having that.

“Don’t make me beg, Angel,” he growls, looking up at you, fucking you faster with his fingers. “Give it to me.”

“I fucking...don’t wanna...fuck!”

“C’mon, Angel. Give me what I need,” he begs, using his thumb to massage your clit. 

“Fuck!”

“You sound so beautiful,” he groans doubling down on his efforts .

Your legs almost buckle as your orgasm washes over you, your desire soaks his wrist, and he fucks you through your high.

“You’re really somethin’ else,” he smirks as he slowly stands up, looking down at you with love and adoration in his eyes, while he slowly removes his fingers. “So lovely and all mine,” he whispers before delivers another soul stealing kiss.

You can taste yourself on his lips, and it only turns you on even more. Wrapping your arms around him, you let yourself get lost in him, almost completely oblivious to the fact that Jim is moving you both back towards the bed.

“Stop,” you breathe, forcing yourself to let go of him once you feel the back of your legs against the bed. “Take your shirt off.”

Lust floods his eyes as he takes a step back and slowly takes off his shirt. 

If you’re going to Hell, you may as well enjoy the ride.

Your hand lightly traces over his chest as you marvel, “you’re beautiful.”

“You’re one to talk,” he chuckles softly, caressing the side of your face. “If you want to stop-”

“We’ve already started,” you giggle softly.

“I love you, Y/N. I don’t want this to be over after tonight.”

“Lets just be here tonight, my love,” you smile weakly.

It’s not like you can blame alcohol, because you haven’t had a drink all day. This is a choice you’re making all on your own. You can’t even find it in you to feel bad right now because, with how he’s looking at you, the only thing you feel is love.

“Show me how much ya love me tonight,” you whisper as you undo his jeans. “Show me how much you need me.”

In no time at all, you’re both naked and under the covers of your long forgotten “emergency” bed. A very small part of you is still in shock over what’s about to take place, but as worships your body with his tongue, you instantly realize that it’s not enough to call it off and pretend it isn’t happening.

When you feel his tongue massage your right nipple while he sucks on it like it’s the world’s best lollipop, all regrets and guilt go out the window. 

“Angel?” Jim breathes, propping himself and looking down at you.

“Yeah?”

“Say it,” he pleads, slowly spearing into you.

“Oh fuck!”

“Please...fuck!” he grunts, gripping the sheets a bit tighter. “Please...please fuckin’ say it!” he begs desperately as he starts to pick up his pace.

“Fuck, I love you! I love you so...oh God!” you groan as he starts to pick up the pace. 

“You’re perfect.”

“Jim!”

“I know, Angel...just...Jesus, ya grippin’ me so tight!”

“Fuck...so close!! Right there...ahht!!”

“C’mon, Angel!”

“Jim...oh...OH!!”

You both go right over the edge at the same time, with Jim dipping down to kiss you in a weak attempt to silence your moans.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

“Give me a second,” Jim laughs softly, resting his head in the crook of your neck, while softly resting his body on top of yours.

“We’re fucked. We’re so fucked,” you laugh humorlessly.

“Angel, we’re going to be together-”

“Jim, it’s not like this is some regular affair. You’re married to my Mother. You’re my Stepfather. No matter what happens, this can only end poorly.”

“Then why did you do it?” he questions, pushing himself up a little.

You cup his face and caress the right side softly, “because I love ya, Jim. I’m in love with ya.”

Jim says nothing, he just dips down and kisses you passionately, and you feel him come back to life fore you.

His thrusts start off slow as a smirk comes to his lips, “I think we should have one more go, yeah?”

You dig your nails into his shoulder blades as you arch your back, “please!”

You and Jim spend the next hour or so getting tangled in your sheets, with you two mainly telling each other how much you both love and need one another. Yes, you don’t know much about the man, but you know that you’re drawn to him in every way that a person can be drawn to someone. Your heart, soul, and mind, has never reacted to someone in this way.

He is the missing piece you’ve always been looking for.

“Jim?” you question softly, laying your head on his chest and softly playing with his chest hairs.

“Yeah?”

“We can’t do this ever again. Ya know that, right?”

“We’re gonna figure this out-”

“Jim, ya married her. My Mother. Ya can’t-”

“I’ll figure it out-”

“There’s nothing to figure out, and you know that. You’re married to my Mother and this...this is for tonight only. She may not be a good Mother, but she is my Mother. At one point, you loved her and when I’m gone, you will again. You’ll see-”

“I loved a version of her. This isn’t just some fling with you-’

“She’s my Mother, Jim! I know that I love ya, and I believe that you love me, but this can’t happen. She’d never forgive me and I wouldn’t blame her. God, if she had any idea...Jim, it can’t happen again.”

“I don’t want that.”

“I don’t either, but it’s for the best.”

“If it’s what’s best, I’ll do it,” he sighs heavily, pulling you closer to him.

“I love you, Jim.”

“I love you too, Angel.”

“You can’t be here in the morning.”

“Just let me hold you a bit longer,” he begs softly.

You nod your head softly as you blink back tears. You know that this is the right thing to do. Yeah, your heart is breaking, and you know this isn’t something you’re gonna get over over night, but it’s what needs to be done. Tonight is all you two have, but what a night it was. As you slowly start to drift off to sleep, a small smile comes to your face. For just a moment, you two had each other. You had it all.

Tomorrow, you’ll wake up and all of this will be a distant memory, and you’ll be strong enough to move on.

...right?

~~

[weird-is-life]

i always see sunshine spence! x grumpy cat!reader but i was wondering if you could write smth about it being the other way around!!

i imagine it with older season spence (post prison even) with a gf who’s a bit younger and away more perky than he is!! but you can do it whichever way you’d like :))

Thank u for this request! I hope this is okay🥰🥰 (0.9k)

The Bau is buzzing with people. You've only been here once before and it was just to get some files with Spencer late at night. And then there was literally no one except for the security guards.

Right now, the place is so busy, you have to step away to the side multiple times just to not get run over.

Spencer called you this morning as he always does. But he seemed very off on the phone, more grumpier than usual. And of course, you as a good girlfriend can't have him sad all day. So here you are, standing in middle of the Bau with no idea where to go.

You got inside by telling the guards, you were coming to see Spencer and that you knew the way to his office. But obviously the second part was a lie. You have no idea what floor Spencer's office is. You think it's either 4th, 5th or 6th floor, but you can't really remember.

You are on the floor 4, but this is definitely not the right one. And because you don't want to look like a fool, exploring every floor until you find Spencer's, you settle on calling him.

He picks up, as you step into the elevator, "Hi, sweetheart. Is everything okay?"

"Hi Spence, everything is great. Remember when we went to get your files, that one night?" you ask with giddy smile on your face as you push the button of the 5th floor.

"Of course, I do."

"What floor did we go to? Was it 6?" you ask as unsuspiciously as you can.

"No, it was the 5th-"he starts to say as the elevator stops there.

You notice his tall frame in the distance, so you say, "never mind, I got it."

"Wha-"before he can asks, you hang up. You can see the big frown on his face even from the distance, his confusion makes you giggle.

You are not even a bit surprised, when your phone's starts ringing. You don't pick up, you quickly walk towards him. Poor guy, he is so focused on the phone call, that he doesn't even notice you as you near his desk.

"Hi" you greet him and giggle again, when he looks at you with wide eyes and open mouth.

"Y/N? W-what are you doing here?" Spencer puzzles.

"You seemed sad on the phone call this morning," you pouts, " so I thought I'd come see you and bring you lunch."

You are smiling so much at him, that Spencer already feels better, "sweetheart, you didn't need to come all the way here."

"But I wanted to, couldn't leave you grumpy all day, could I?" you tease him, " and I'm pretty sure, you didn't even eat breakfast."

Seeing his guilty face, you know, you are right. You know he tries to eat something else than a coffee for you, so you don't say anything to that.

"I also brought you some cookies" you smile at him.

"Thank you" he says, tugging you close to him for a hug.

"You are very welcome, handsome" you grin at him and look around, before you give him a quick kisses on both of his cheeks. Apparently, it was not enough, because when you pull away to look at him, he is back to frowning.

"Stop frowning so much, Spence" you chuckle.

"It's your fault. You come here looking so pretty to bring me lunch and you don't even give me a kiss" he defends and you think, he's being ridiculous.

"I did kissed you!"

"I want a real kiss, please." You roll your eyes at him, but you comply. The kiss is long enough to make him happy, but not long enough to make people around uncomfortable.

"Thank you, pretty girl and thank you for coming here."

"Of course" he smiles and you return  the smile.

"Okay, call me, when you are done, yeah? " you start to pick up your things to leave, but Spencer stops you.

"Wait wait wait, where are you going? Aren't you going to stay?"

"I don't want to bother you at work" you answer, cheeks a little red.

"Nonsense, you could never bother me, lovely. Please stay." He gives you puppy eyes and who are you to say no to that.

"Really? Won't Hotch mind?" you bite your lip, you know Hotch is really sweet, but stern person.

"I'll tell him, I'm taking my lunch break, which is exactly what I'm doing" he grins at you and leans to push another chair next to his.

"Okay,then I'll stay" you sit in the chair and start to tell him all about your morning. Or more like you ramble happily to him about every single detail of your morning. About how you saw your neighbours cat or about how you went to the shop and had to buy a bouquet of flowers, because they reminded you of him and so much more. But Spencer doesn't mind one bit, he could listen to your excited voice all day.

By the time his lunch break ends and you have to leave, your giddy energy makes all his frown lines dissappear.

Later that day, you get a text from Penelope, saying, that the team owes  you a big gift basket for saving them from grumpy Spencer. Which honestly makes you giggle ones again and you make a mental note to yourself to bring Spencer lunch more often.

[brenayla]

I really enjoyed your Midnight piece! Can I request more of Julie’s perspective, especially as mulder and Scully’s relationship evolves into romantic, a baby, etc.? Idk how far you’d be willing to follow them, but I really enjoyed it and would definitely tune in to see this perspective all the way thru post-revival even

hi! thanks for tuning in. sorry this took a bit.

---

Little Amber Lynn’s mama will only speak to Mulder.

In the second floor bedroom, Julie watches him take her statement from a distance, hyper-aware that Scully is lurking somewhere beneath their feet.

To say that he inspires trust would not be completely accurate. He wraps a silk hand around your neck, looks at you with his black hole eyes, and compels information from the back of your throat.

They inspire admiration, even from those that try to cover it up with silly nicknames.

They inspire a dread like anaphylaxis settling in.

Even Skinner seems to feel it today, having apparently done something to piss off Scully. As everyone mills around outside the house, preparing to head out, she snaps with staticky irritability.

Now, Julie is no gossip but she finds herself eavesdropping on them, pretending to review her notes as she waits for her carpool. She has always held a curiosity for Skinner.

“Did you get the keys?” Scully asks.

“Yes.” Skinner offers her two sets, each dangling with the evergreen motel tag that’s looped onto Julie's own room keys.

In Julie’s peripheral vision, Scully stares down their boss and swipes one set of keys from his hand. She turns and crisply walks to her car in a swarm of black ice shards, dripping liquid mercury.

That is one mystery solved; a drop in the ocean.

Quietly, Skinner slips the leftover set into his pocket.

Mulder turns up in the Oregonian woods, smack dab in the middle of a crater that didn’t used to be there. At least that’s what Skinner tells Julie when he calls.

It all sounds like something that is not her problem but she’s smarter than to word it like that. “I’m sorry, Sir,” she tries instead, “but has a crime been committed?”

“It’s violent, Agent,” he snaps. “Get your ass on a plane.”

Julie does.

With white gloved fingers, she collects the burnt tatters of Mulder’s old clothes into evidence bags. When she goes to see him in the hospital, he is bright and freezer cold. There is not a scratch on his incandescent skin.

She is here, too. Suited up, thousand-watt Scully. She runs her crystalline talons through Mulder’s hair under the guise of checking for injuries and Julie has to turn away for air.

“What’s the last thing you remember?” Julie asks him, Scully looming in the doorway and picking at Julie’s training to scan for an alternative exit.

“You mean before I woke up in the woods in my birthday suit?” Mulder asks.

“Yes,” Julie says, her hindbrain blaring at her to turn around, there’s something behind you. “Before that.”

“Aside from the ship and damn near getting abducted, not much. Skinner can confirm that, he was there.”

Julie relents and glances to the doorway, but it’s just Scully. Arms crossed, masked up.

“Scully,” Mulder says, and she reluctantly steps out into the hallway, halving the clamor of Julie’s fight-or-flight.

It has been years since she interacted with one of them without the other; she’d almost forgotten that they are more palatable alone.

“Sorry about that.” Mulder gives a playful smile, showing off iridescent teeth. For a flash, his fangs drip with ripe cherry blood. Julie blinks. “She’s a little on edge,” he explains.

She wants to lean in; she wants to run away.

“Agent Mulder. How did that crater get there?”

Mulder lies to her. “I don’t know.”

It’s been an exhausting fall and Julie has already attended far too many of these obligatory charity events. American flag pins abound; teary late night talk show hosts. There is a curdling thirst for vengeance in Congress and a frenetic unease in the public.

She and Kramer camp out near the snack table, gorging themselves on free candy to make up for skipping lunch.

“Am I going to Hell if I say I’m getting tired of these?” Kramer asks, setting his carefully folded KitKat wrapper down. It springs back into its old form.

“If you do, I’ll be down there with you.” She watches him reach for a Snickers.

He continues quietly, tearing off a neat slice of flag-colored foil. “I just– There’s only so many times I can listen to these speakers. I get that it’s…”

Over his shoulder, she spots Skinner and – yes, it is him; they are easier to tell apart once they start speaking – Mulder in a black dress shirt, a baby strapped to his chest.

“…but it’s fucking depressing, and–”

“Hey,” Julie whispers. “Your favorite former coworker is here.”

Mouth sticky with caramel and nougat, Kramer asks, “Huh?”

She tilts her head towards Mulder; she cannot look at him for too long, having gone soft from lack of exposure to them. He’s giving her blue and purple echoes, like she’s been staring at the sun.

“Oh yeah, I saw Scully earlier with the…,” Kramer says, gesturing to his torso where a BabyBjorn would sit.

Ah but are you sure it was Scully?

Quickly moving on, Kramer says, “I didn’t think he was so progressive.”

“What did you think then? Scully, barefoot and pregnant?”

He nods thoughtfully, conceding. “I guess you got a point there.”

Julie digs into the sweets bowl until she finds a rare leftover KitKat. “Did you see their kid?”

“Yeah,” Kramer says, popping the rest of his Snickers into his mouth. “Little boy.”

She holds back her real question. They still dance around this, like verbalizing it would make it Real.

But did you see his face?

[bekaroth-reads]

Dante Sparda x Reader

[This is getting posted late at night and I haven’t proof read it. So, sorry if there’s a bunch of mistakes in this. I just remembered that I love Dante and I wanted to write something about him]

There was so much that needed to be done still. You had offered to help Dante with some of the more paperwork related things for Devil May Cry, as he had just gotten back from a job yesterday and seemed pretty exhausted. Not to mention, you both knew that he needed help balancing his budget. As much as he swore he had only been buying essentials and had no idea why he was still running low on cash, you knew for a fact that his freezer had so much ice cream in it that there was hardly room for anything else. You almost couldn’t blame him for splurging, everyone does now and then. The problem was that he had a tendency to treat himself every time he went out.

So, here you were, sitting at the counter that doubled as the table in the tiny apartment above the office. Dante had gone to bed a while ago, and since he had, you had lost track of time. The old floorboards squeaked and creaked as Dante dragged his feet on them. Once he had gotten to where you were, he flopped all of his weight on top of you, pinning you to the counter and almost tipping over the stool you were sitting on.

“Dante!” You squawk as you try to keep your balance yourself and your boyfriend who was apparently too tired to help.

“Baby… Baby, Baby, Baby~” he hummed as he nuzzled his face into your shoulder and gave it a few kisses.

Finally, you were able sit yourself back up. Dante was still hanging on you, but he moved his arms from being on top of yours to wrapping around your waist. This was followed by a giant yawn you were certain that he howled right into your ear on purpose.

“Come to bed.” Dante whines as he tried to use his hold on your waist to pull you back to the bedroom with him.

“I will in a bit. I’ve got to finish your bookkeeping.” You reply as you reverse the roles and lean on him.

Dante pulled you closer, and a hum rumbled in throat, almost as croaky as the rest of his tired voice.

“Why now? Do it tomorrow.” He slid his hand up your arm and took the pencil you were holding to sit it down.

When you went to grab it again, Dante grabbed your hand, brought it up to his lips, and mumbled, “I missed you.”

You weren’t sure if he meant that he missed you while he was away on his job or if he meant that he couldn’t sleep well without you with him. But, one there was one thing that you did know and that was that he was trying anything he could think of to get you to go with him; at the moment he was trying pity.

“As tempting as you are, your, ‘do it tomorrow,’ attitude is the reason I’m stuck doing this right now.” You sat forward again and pulled your hand away.

Just as you sat forward, Dante was quick to pull you back. This time he made sure to lean you both so that he could look at you. Even though he looked exhausted, his chesty nature was clearly shining through, his crooked smile that slightly crinkled the corner of his nose on full display.

“So, I’m tempting, huh?” He playfully bit his lip as he started to grab at your sides.

You swatted his hands away. “Is that really the only thing you heard?”

“No. But, it’s the most important thing I heard.” Dante laughed as he leaned down and gave your lips a peck.

That didn’t seem to be enough for him as he went in for another as soon as he had pulled away. Then another after that. Then another and one more. Then his hands shot up to hold the sides of your face as he gave you more passionate kiss, which you happily returned.

When the two of you finally broke the kiss his hold on your loosened but stayed, and he kept as close to you as he could.

“Please.” Dante whispered against your lips; it was genuine, pleading.

You responded by giving him another kiss before standing up. He smiled and kept and arm wrapped around you the whole way to the bedroom.

Once you were both in bed, Dante got as close to you as quickly as he could. Leaning his head down, he once again placed a kiss on your shoulder. “I did really miss you.” He mumbled, sleep creeping up on him once more.

“I missed you too.” You hummed as you turned to face him and draped your arm on him.

The only thing you heard from him after that was light snoring, which soon lulled you to sleep as well.

[anxious-witch]

Part two of how Dead Boy Detectives shows different ways of love/lust/devotion throughout the characters' rs.

Part one

This part is gonna focus on Edwin/Monty and part three is gonna be about Crystal/Niko(bc I can't shut up, apparently)

So before I delve into Edwin/Monty dynamic, let's just take a look at Monty as a character in his own right.

He is quite literally a crow turned human and then turned back to the crow again. There is this tumblr post that describes the concept of madness in terms of eldritch horror. Basic idea is that madness is when you are an ant, but then for a moment, you can comprehend things as a human would, just to have it taken away again. You have a memory of understanding things far beyond your comprehension, but you can't understand them anymore. That is true madness.

And Monty experiences that, both with being overwhelmed with human emotions and it clearly taking a toll on him in the short period that he is human, and then gets turned into a crow again. Clearly there is still some recollection and understanding he possess, due to the fact he helps Charles, but we'll never really know.

Either way, the bits and pieces we see of Monty's life as a human, we can safely say he has very little to no agency of his own. He was created to fulfill a goal-to lead Charles and Edwin into a trap.

I am not usually a big fan of characters who were "born yesterday" experiencing romance and defining themselves through it, but I think DBD carried out that trope in such a beautiful and unique way. We can't know for certain, but based on Esther's reaction to seeing Monty flirt with Edwin, I think we can conclude she didn't give him direct instructions on how to get their trust. Which meant that Monty choose to pursue Edwin on his own volition.

It was at least a bit out of practicality, I'm sure, since Charles and Crystal had their thing going on, but there was also something that drew Monty to Edwin. I think what's so special in their relationship is that Monty seems surprised Edwin reciprocates his attempts-until the kiss that is. Edwin may scoff at astrology, but then he intently listens to Monty explaining his chart to him. He recommends a book to him, and discusses it with him. He even agrees to go on a night stroll with him!

I don't fully blame Monty for reading Edwin wrong. Up until that point, Edwin seemed very open to his advances. It's easy to us, as the viewer to know Edwin's focus is elsewhere, and that he sees what he and Monty have as friendship.

Anyway, I am derailing my point. What I think is done brilliantly is that the very few choices Monty is allowed to make are centered around Edwin, but they also tells us a hell lot about Monty himself! Monty sees love as a way of understanding a person. That's why he makes Edwin's chart, and whenever you believe in astrology or not, he clearly does. And he thinks he knows Edwin. Edwin is determined, stubborn, protective, but also kind and thoughtful.

Which is why it's such a blow when he completely misreads Edwin's feels during the swingset scene! Monty's idea of love, as naive as it, is shattered. Because it turns out he doesn't know Edwin at all. The whole meeting in the woods, where the Cat King appears only crushes him further, but he felt betrayed even before that.

"Charles is the one you have feelings for. It is so obvious!" Sounds quite a lot like someone who didn't find it obvious up until it was too late to take his actions back. Because it turns out you cannot know a person so quickly. They are much more complex. Too complex, for someone who is only few weeks human, like Monty is.

But then, Edwin admits that he still cared for him. That Monty was his first kiss and despite Edwin not reciprocating his feelings, he is still his friend and that still matters to him greatly. Because there is a more than one way to love and care for someone. Which, by the Monty's reaction, he didn't realize up until that moment.

Immediately upon realizing it, what does Monty do? He turns everything around. Yes, the Cat King stops him and exposes his secret so his attempt is moot, but let's not forget the fact that Monty was about to throw away everything for Edwin in that moment. His whole history with Esther, the threat of her possible vengeance, everything he is up until that point. All because Edwin cares for him. Genuinly, truly confirms he cares for him.

I think that's what makes it so powerful. It isn't romantic love that sways Monty. No, it's the thought of genuine care despite Monty's wrong assesmwnt of Edwin's feelings that changes him.

All Monty wanted was to be cared for. Whatever consideration Esther has for him seems more of the consideration someone has for a useful tool at her disposal. But not Edwin. Edwin cares.

It tells us a lot about Edwin too! Edwin, who says "I am not good with people", Edwin, who protested at Crystal joining the agency because she alive, Edwin, who insisted the living are messy. Yet, up until it's revealed Monty betrayed him, he clearly cares so much, taking his case despite it clearly not being top priority. Because he wants to be Monty's friend, even if he can't love him back.

I also think that, if it wasn't for Monty bringing up Charles and making Edwin feel defensive, Edwin would have forgiven him right then and there. I mean like, just look at his face when he asks Monty if he was just pretending to be his friend and Monty says: "At first, yes! But then, no."

Edwin sympathizes. Edwin forgives Simon for killing him and dooming him to Hell. I don't believe for one second he wouldn't be able to forgive Monty if he knew even a fraction of what he endured by Esther. About how little choice he had in the entire matter.

It's really unfortunate they don't get more scenes together because I feel like they changed each other sm in only a matter of days? Weeks? That they had together. Edwin learned to be more open towards things that are not purely rational, ie astrology, and more importantly, he was learning how to open up, and share his interests with people who aren't Charles. As much as I love Charles, he clearly isn't as interested in reading and literature as Edwin is and that's okay! But Edwin had someone to express that side of himself with, who could reciprocate and open new things for Edwin.

I actually do believe that, under different circumstances and with more time, Edwin could have returned Monty's feelings. Which makes the whole thing more tragic, but alas.

Another interesting thing that occurred to me is that both Monty and the Cat King die by the hands of Esther and her cane when they admit to their love for Edwin. Which, I think, once again symbolizes how those feelings are just too big for the state they are currently in. For the Cat King, that love tirns him more mature and somber. For Monty, it's too overwhelming, and he turns back to his old state, unable to handle them. And yet-even in that form, he cannot deny them, not when Edwin is screaming and he has a chance to help Charles free him. Because as much as we try to go back to how we were before, love, even through heartbreak, changes us.

And Simon-Simon also changes forms after accepting his love for Edwin. He quite literally earns his redemption after it. And Charles? Well, Charles comes out of hell, his shirt back to bright red, because Edwin's love uplifted him sm.

Edwin Payne, truly the man that inspires devotion in everyone he meets

[anattemptatmeaning]

You're the Only Friend I Need a Trobed fic

Author's Notes: Wow I have been very inactive and I'm also going on vacation so I rushed to finish this, I'll beautify this post along with my BT fanfic later. I saw this beautiful Trobed artwork on Tumblr by @greatredangel and it made me think of the song Ribs by Lorde. Then I visualized them dancing at a bar to the song while Abed is having bittersweet thoughts. It became this. Hope y'all enjoy Troy and Abed in a ba-ar! Again?

Also I just realized really late that Ribs was released three years after Mixology Certification aired but oh well, I love the song and I try meta-referencing my misstep in the fic lmao. Comment and feedback is well-appreciated! This is my first time writing Community fanfic and I hope I didn't screw up, especially with writing Abed. He's the best. They're all just the best, I love this show so much. Comments and feedback are appreciated! This whole thing is just wholesome romantic fluff with very light angst that gets resolved anyway, no trigger warnings! This made me so happy to write!

The Trobed artwork that inspired this: https://www.tumblr.com/greatredangel/751692320042287104/youre-the-only-one-who-understands?source=share

Ribs by Lorde (which I encourage you to listen while reading): https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=b7pE8AG1jjE

My Trobed companion playlist for this fic: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/4IgAlyGazQxVwHcmZyIdah

Someone stormed away.

That’s how it always happened.

Abed didn’t choose to have more interest in dissecting the implications of Farscape being an influence on the Marvel Cinematic Universe, the ragtag character dynamics of the crew of the Moya , or the suspicion that Greendale was headed in a similar direction to the fourth season which, frankly, he might have preferred to get interrupted before speaking about.

Not that he had a choice. One of the few people who understood his references was interested in something more…carnal. 

But Abed knew what he liked, what he thought, what he was good at. And being straightforward with it, absorbing and deconstructing every little detail? 

It was what passion was. At least for him.

The inner workings of bumbling off-duty patrons drowning their daily sorrows into looking to score, on the other hand? Not at all. 

He did see it coming. He was all but waiting for the rejection. But it was fun talking about Farscape .

While it lasted.

Nevertheless, it was Monday. And as expected, he was just fine. It was an odd night.

His thoughts turned to Troy. With the study group more amped up than usual due to the alcohol, he realized Troy got left alone due to the ensuing drama. 

Thus ruining his birthday.

“Hey, Troy?” 

Troy looked at him. Abed felt that rush of energy that always came whenever he did. “Yeah, Abed?” It was cliche, but the birthday surprise trope was still a classic. “There’s something I forgot to give you for your birthday. Happy belated birthday, by the way.”

A surprised smile lit up Troy’s face. “Really? This is too much, man. I’m still losing it over Kickpuncher.”

“I figured. With the abundance of alcohol in the study group, perhaps an easygoing, intimate night out on the town as Troy and Abed should make for a nicer birthday. Shall we?”

Troy clapped his hands. “Let’s roll.”

They did the handshake. Their handshake.

Abed was not a driver.

He legally was, but avoided it unless it was an occasion where he absolutely had, or even more rarely, wanted to.

This was one such occasion.  

“No way, is this the same bar?” Troy gaped slightly, moving forward in his seat as he recognized Flannahan’s Hole.

“The second chance trope is a bit stale, but a well-done redemption arc works wonders,” Abed confirmed as he parked the car.

Troy laughed as he and Abed got out and headed inside. It looked exactly the same as it did on Troy’s birthday: just like any other bar, albeit apparently the least offensive of them if Jeff and Britta’s word was anything to go by.

To Abed’s relief though, the man from earlier wasn’t there.

“Abed?” Troy asked. Abed immediately recognized his hesitating tone, and felt something akin to a pang in his heart.

“Troy?” Abed knew he talked quickly, but his response was a bit faster and more urgent than usual. If Troy was nervous or on edge, Abed might as well have ruined another birthday for him.

“I…don’t really want to drink,” Troy began, taking a breath and looking to the ground, gathering his thoughts. Then Troy locked eyes with him.

Momentarily, nothing existed except Troy.

“When I was ordering my drink, I…I saw how out of it everyone was, staring off into space, not able to feel much of anything, not able to do much of anything…we just didn’t look happy.” Troy’s tone was candid, kind, mournful, his usual cheerful energy replaced by a more careful, concerned tone. 

“So, I didn’t drink. I got everyone and drove us home.”

Abed remembered that as the other members of the study group were drowning figuratively or literally in their personal misery, Troy was the one to bring them back together. 

“Sorry,” Troy said with a bit of uncertainty, embarrassed when he shouldn’t have to feel bad because Abed reminded him of a day he had to hold everyone else together.

When Troy deserved one where the roles were reversed.

Abed swallowed. He wanted to say only the best possible words.

“Me neither, honestly,” he started. “You don’t have anything to be sorry for. It’s your birthday.”

Troy smiled, the previous moment forgotten. “Thanks, Abed.”

A new song started playing overhead in the bar. Abed squinted his eyes slightly. 

The drink you spilt all over me…

He undoubtedly knew movies better than music, but the song felt out of place for some reason. Was it a continuity error? He hadn’t heard it on the radio before. Weird. 

My mom and dad let me stay home…

“Do you want to dance?” Troy’s question shook Abed out of his thoughts, and he looked at Troy, calm yet eager about his suggestion. Abed couldn’t help but oblige, and the song piqued his interest the longer he listened to it.

”Sure.”

How you wish it would be all the time…

There wasn’t a whole lot of space within the bar, so Abed and Troy just moved close to a few empty seats. Unlike some of their choreographed or improvised dance routines which were occasionally elaborate, they kept it simple due to the nature of the event, and the difference this particular song had from their usual background music.

It drives you crazy getting old…

Abed was coolly and steadily hopping up and down, raising his left, then right leg to the beat. Troy took to clapping to the beat as he got into the song. 

Abed didn’t have many great memories as a kid.

This dream isn't feeling sweet, we're reeling through the midnight streets…

But right here, right now, dancing alone with Troy, he knew.

This. This was what childhood was supposed to be.

Doing whatever you felt like doing, not worrying about anything else, just having fun.

So what if he was only truly living it right now, as a film student in the most chaotic community college in the world?

He was living it. And for however long it would last?

It feels so scary, getting old....

He would enjoy it.

Abed hadn’t realized he had his eyes closed the whole time since he started dancing until he opened them to look straight at Troy.

Everything else went still.

Troy had a smile of pure ecstasy and euphoria and was moving completely of his own accord, not trying to impress, not having to try anything , just…dancing, and enjoying it.

We can talk it so good, we can make it so divine…

His hips swayed perfectly as he bounced to the beat, his knees smoothly kicking out as he bobbed up and down, not breaking a sweat. His head twisted from side to side, carefree and peaceful. He moved his elbows and hands up and down rhythmically with ease. And of course, that smile.

Has Abed seen Troy dance before? Many times.

But none so picturesque as this exact moment.

Then Troy opened his eyes. If things were still before, it wasn’t comparable to this.

I want ‘em back, I want ‘em back, the minds we had, the minds we had…

Troy’s eyes were a bit more serious, curious, and earnest. He stepped closer to Abed, still perfectly on beat.

How all the thoughts, how all the thoughts, moved ‘round our heads, moved ‘round our heads…

Abed was still slightly moving his legs to the beat, but he was focused on stepping as close as Troy saw fit.

I want ‘em back, I want ‘em back, the minds we had, the minds we had…

They kept moving closer. They didn’t notice the bar patrons staring.

It’s not enough to feel the lack, I want ‘em back, I want ‘em back, I want ‘em!

And their lips touched. Their eyes closed as they danced more slowly now, their arms now touching each other. Supporting each other.

He’d never let him fall.

You’re the only friend I need, sharing beds like little kids…

They just stayed there, now only slowly moving from side to side once every measure of the song, their grip on each other soft not to overwhelm, but steady, never to let the other go.

And laughing till our ribs get tough, but that will never be enough… “YEAH!” yelled people in the background as applause and cheers were heard, the first time he had focused on the outside world in a bit. Abed rarely ever had applause and cheers for him, neither did he seek it, but in this specific moment, it invigorated him. It did the same for Troy, as they briefly removed their lips to take a breath before diving back in, emboldened.

You’re the only friend I need, sharing beds like little kids…

Troy and Abed released each other, parting with powerful, slow breaths. Troy was staring with him, those same earnest eyes, but with total adoration and awe.

Based on his expression, Abed knew he shared the equivalent facial expression.

And laughing till our ribs get tough, but that will never be enough... “Good enough?” Abed asked Troy at the song’s end. Speaking to him was always comforting, but it felt like it had escalated to a whole new level now.

“Never better,” Troy answered in the most angelic, warmest tone Abed had ever heard.

They basked in the joy of the rest of the bar, all of them happy for them, for Troy and Abed. Troy laughed, equal parts blushing and grateful. Abed nodded at them in equally thankful acknowledgement. 

As they walked out, Abed caught the eye of the guy from earlier. He must have come in after them.

Compared to his more irritable, sour impression upon their first meeting, the bar guy was glad, sincere. He had a gentle, knowing smile. There were a variety of meanings he could derive from his face. First of all, he felt bad for his behavior during the last meeting. Secondly, he was happy for him and Abed. 

“Hey, I see you're going through stuff, and I'm sorry I didn't see that earlier,” the bar guy started a bit awkwardly. Then he seemed to be emboldened himself as well. “But I get it now, and I'm happy for you. For the both of you."

It was validating, to say the least. 

“Thank you,” Abed responded. “It was a better night.”

“I can see,” the bar guy giggled, looking at the two a bit sheepishly. “Okay, okay, we get it,” Troy was trying like mad to calm down, but he was clearly bashful.

As Abed drove the two away from the bar, they were quiet for a long time, processing the moment they just had.

Troy broke the silence first.

“Abed…is it okay if I want more moments like that?”

Abed had never felt so at peace in his life.

“I was going to ask the same thing,” he said in a soft tone he didn’t even know he was capable of.

Troy beamed yet again, and initiated their running gag. Abed immediately caught on. “Troy and Abed to-ge-ther!”

[velarisvalkyrie]

Things that bother me most about the ACOTAR characters that keep me up at night - Rhys, Feyre, Cassian and Nesta Edition. Please do not atatck me I'm just sharing my thoughts to see if anyone else gets a bothered by these.

Rhysand:

Telling Azriel if he needs to fuck someone to go to a pleasure hall and pay for it was such an unneccesarily cruel thing to say to his "brother". I like Az but I no longer can see him with Elain after a few read throughs of the series but there was no reason for Rhys to be THAT harsh in telling him to stay away from her. Like that is how you're talking to someone you claim to love in your court where you apparently "don't pull rank" - yeah okay.

Not telling Feyre about her pregnancy. I do not care if he thought it was removing stress from her, he took away her choice to help be involved in finding a solution or at least prepare for the outcome ahead.

Enjoying Nesta being afraid of him at the start of ACOSF. I know he isn't her biggest fan but his mate loves her cuz that is her sister like dude you shouldn't get an ego boost from her fearing you. It's gross to me and such a toxic trait. Reminds me of real men I don't like.

I feel like Rhysand only gives people choices that he is able to orchestrate. When you read through all the moments he's giving someone options you notice they are mostly options that no matter how someone chooses it's gonna benefit him and/or his court and his court only. Or he puts people in positions where essentially they don't have a better option - the only better option is to agree with him. Does no one else notice that??? Should I make a separate post on that in better detail one day?

Feyre:

She hesitates before she interrupts Ianthe from SAing Lucien. And when she does interfere its cuz she thinks of what Ianthe has done to Rhys. Look, I do not care how mad I am at a friend - I do not care if it is the person I hate most, I could never hesitate to stop someone from going through the trauma of SA. Whether I love or hate you if I can stop it I am going to stop it.

Telling Nesta directly that one of the few reasons she's forcing Nesta to go through .... whatever you wanna call the whole training/house of wind/library routine - is because if Feyre and Rhys can't even control Nesta why should they deserve to rule a court. I understand this from a political point of view but I do not think that is a helpful way to talk to someone in such a bad state. If someone said that to me I would think to myself: So I'm just damage control you're doing and not actually cared about.

I know people love the whole Feyre in her night gown going to Lucien with a nightmare. But when you think about it more it's so dangerous to Lucien. Yes, I know Feyre listens to make sure Tamlin didn't attack Lucien after she left the room but what if he did and she was a second too late to stop it??? Not only would that leave Lucien harmed or dead but like what would that have done to Elain??? Would she feel it through the bond? What would have happened to her if Lucien died??? No consideration for Elain or Lucien in that moment.

Pointing out Lucien is hanging out with other people who don't have a home. That was a cruel comment. That was a comment not needed and maybe she said it cuz she was hurt he doesn't seem comfortable in her home with her famoly but what do you expect from him when everyone either treats him coldly or tolerates him. Like we have maybe 2 or 3 canon moments where the Inner Circle is being decent to him. Like yeah I'm sure he isn't comfortable. That's not even touching the awkward Elain thing going on.

Cassian:

"Everybody hates you!" Yucky. He knew Nesta was in a bad place and there were signs of self-loathing and he still said that. Then he wants to pout and whine that she doesn't open up easily to him or talk to him about what bothers her for quite a while.

Not having enough patience with her when she isn't ready to call him her mate. She's just gotten somewhat comfortable with being Fae and she just now is really getting a life of her own within Velaris. She did not choose to be Fae, she was just getting comfortable. She even tries to kinda explain to Cassian that the word mate would take away the last scrap of her humanity. She isn't even trying to be hurtful in that moment, she's just stumbling to explain why it was so hard for her to say "mate" and what does Cassian do in response? Not only does he keep demanding her to say it he also goes: "Well, I didn't have a choice in being shackled to you, either."

When Nesta comes up the 10,000 steps the first time and she has visible wounds that she's fallen. He couldn't take like five seconds to just "By the way, are you going to heal alright or are you in bad pain?"

Nesta:

Judging Feyre at the dinner table in ACOMAF when Feyre first visits with Rhys, Cassian and Azriel. So rude and snide and full of hate for no real reason. I love Nesta now but ohhh did I hate her in those first two books.

How she told Feyre the truth was bad. While I would much rather hear the truth even if it was meant to hurt me than to not have a single fucking clue what was happening to my body and my baby, I still did not like how Nesta went about the situation.

Telling Elain she may finally be interesting was just a tasteless low blow.

This is getting too long so I might do a Part 2 for the ones that have a somewhat shorter list: Azriel (still adore him) Lucien (yes, I do actually have some fair criticism of him despite being a clear Lucien lover) Elain (I have only 1 comment but if I put it in this one I feel people are gonna rip me apart) Mor, and Amren.

[onyxrosess]

Pain is My Hometown

vergil x reader [multi-chapter series]

Chapter IV: It's Too Late for Me Now

Chapter I | Chapter II | Chapter III | Chapter IV [you're here!] | Table of Contents

・warnings/tags: n/a

( cross-posted on ao3 )

Swinging the sheets off your body in an attempt to freeze yourself into waking up, mostly it worked. Dante’s bed was nicer than anticipated, likely due to him sleeping in his chair 90% of the time instead of the bed he owned. Regardless of how many times you’ve ‘accidentally’ spent the night at the shop, you never kept any clothes here, meaning you’d have to drive back to Fortuna to change clothes. Besides the heavy sigh that left your mouth, it was quiet and it wasn’t taken for granted, Kyrie’s and Nero’s house can get a little noisy unless it's 5 in the morning. Shuffling to the bathroom connected to Dante’s room, you addressed whatever was happening with your hair., scavenging for a brush to maybe tame the nest that was on your head.

After successfully making your hair look a little more presentable, you walked down the stairs, your eyes met with Dante leaning back in his chair, a magazine covering his eyes. You stepped around crunched up papers that littered the ground, standing next to Dante’s sleeping form. How does he not have back problems? Before you could give it much thought, you were reminded the man in front of you was not all man. Yet he acted with such ease that you wondered what happened to Vergil- why was he so…weird? You wished there was a nicer way to put it, but the things he’s done were of his own volition, no one else's. Your mind began to bubble up in anger once again, seething at your father. Heartless man. 

“Well good morning, didn’t take you for a stalker.”  The magazine that once covered Dante’s face was now slid down into his lap. His body remained motionless as he looked at you with a sly smile on his face. “I didn’t take you as a perv who stuffed his face in magazines all day.” Dante feigned hurt on his face, those puppy dog eyes don’t work. “Hey- you know I have bad luck with women.” “Is that what you tell yourself at night?” Dante playfully scoffs, shoving the paper back on the desk. His boots slid off the wooden surface, as you lifted yourself to sit on the desk. Silence took over the shop before it was quickly disrupted, “Y’know, I was thinking.” Oh god, Dante is thinking. You stifled a chuckle, trying to see what he was going to say before giving him shit. “Why didn’t you get into demon hunting with Nero?” 

The thought never crossed your mind really, when Nero was younger he was a little too cocky for his good. Your little exposure to demons before…whatever the hell happened in Fortuna, led you to just avoid them entirely. It’s not like hell gates of that magnitude would ever open again, hopefully anyway.  “That was Nero’s thing, plus I was recovering again.” You paused, letting out a breath before continuing, “And I’m just a regular human.” “Lady’s human and she does just fine.” Dante’s words became quieter, “Probably too well for her own good.” You couldn’t help but exhale a light laugh, Lady must have won their little bet the last time they were out. “Dante, you want me to believe Lady, who you’ve apparently known since you were 18 is the same age as you? She doesn’t look a day over 25- shit, I probably look older than her!” You did not want to point out your age, not that you were proud of the slowly appearing lines on your face, but at least you’ve lived. “Okay fine, I’m not sure if she’s fully human, her father was a nut job so I could only assume.” Dante crossed his arms over his chest, and for once he wasn’t wearing his red leather coat. The dark grey shirt rolled up at his elbows, the fabric fraying at the edges.

“Well, it seems like Lady and I have something in common.” Your attempt at a joke was met with a chuckle from Dante, he leaned forward in his seat, looking at a paper on his desk. He only skimmed over it before sighing, letting it fall back onto the desk.  “What's that?”  Dante looked at the paper again before closing his eyes in annoyance. “There’s a string of demon sightings, about 2 hours away from here. Likely a hell gate, which is beyond annoying.” You were puzzled, from what you knew, hell gates only appeared from human’s doings.  “I thought those only popped up due to humans.” Dante shook his head at your question, “Nope, but if it’s a demon opening it, that means there's a big guy guarding it.” Dante’s vocabulary switched like he was talking to a child, you suppose it’s easier for you to understand but it made you chuckle at his choice of words. So the ones in Fortuna when you met Dante must have been the synthetic ones. You tried to remember how Dante explained it to you in the moment but you were so shaken up you thought you were on something the way he was talking.

“A ‘ big guy ’- am I twelve Dante?” “Well you sometimes act-” “Don’t answer that.” You looked at him with a stern expression that could only be held up for so long before your face softened again. The two of you continued to reminisce on old times, frankly, they weren’t that long ago, but everything happened so quickly that it feels so long ago. It was close to seven years of knowing Dante, but a couple of those were taken from you due to some of the otherworldly events. You would never admit to Dante that you thought he was handsome when you first met, but now, things seem different. Whether he’s getting older or you both are- you can’t seem to bring yourself to walk that path anymore. Your friendship with Dante is one you hold close, and threatening to burn that bridge with a silly crush that you had years ago seemed illogical. 

You were reminded of Dante’s concern over his brother last night, and maybe you just wanted to add fuel to the fire that was hating Vergil’s guts, or you wanted to be right about him. Although you couldn’t help but ask, “Why did you ask about Vergil yesterday?”  You prepared yourself for a response that would make you feel justified in your hatred, “Well, he’s not the most… friendly , and I guess his attempts could be seen as off-putting.” Dante really knows how to not tell you exactly what was going on but sure, he’s not the most friendly. It left you just to reply with a small hum, you’ll find out more soon. Even if you had to beat it out of Vergil.

After some complaining about recent jobs being too boring, must he always find something to complain about? Even when they accidentally put an olive on his pizza he could easily pick off he has to complain, as if he was legally bound to complain about it, every time. Dante later departed with a grunt, saying how much of a pain in the ass going two hours out is, even though he can fly there, for free. You reminded him that he should be grateful he doesn’t have to deal with traffic. He responded with a nonchalant, ‘Yeah, yeah.’ You also left the shop back to Fortuna soon after, a change of clothes and a shower is in order.

Arriving back home, the van Nico and Nero took last night for the job was parked in front of the house, a loud clank came from the garage followed by Nico cursing. Thankfully they aren't dead, you sighed as you walked towards Nico. “Howdy.” She greeted you, but her attention was elsewhere tinkering on a new arm for Nero- like he still needed those.  “Hey, you staying out of trouble?” Nico playfully scoffed, “Never, you know me.” You smiled, “How did last night go?” Nico laughed before she could even give you an answer. “Nero got knocked around quite a bit, it made for the night's entertainment- he’s alright now he didn’t get hurt hurt, y’know?” Nico sputtered out her words after she told you Nero got injured, but her swift recovery followed. You brushed her off, Nero would be fine, he's an adult. No matter how many times you told yourself that you would always be worried when he got hurt. Nico continued on the mechanical arm as you excused yourself inside. Looking out the sliding door, the orphans splashed each other with water in an inflatable pool, you couldn’t help but smile. You had wished that was the life you had grown up with, but no jealousy filled you, just happiness that it was better for them.

Making your way to your room, you walked down the skinny hallway, about to pass Nero and Kyrie’s room when Nero appeared on the other side of the door. Nero looked as if he had the worst hangover and got beat to shit. Nero’s white hair was pointing in all different directions as scrapes and cuts littered his skin, but the gashes were already halfway healed from the looks of it.  “Nico told me it went well” Sarcasm leaked from your voice, as you held in a laugh, Nero did look a little miserable but you knew he would be fine. “Yeah, it went great .” Nero matched your voice, you could tell he didn’t want to admit that he had difficulty beating up a demon. He leaned against the door frame as he rubbed the exhaustion out of his eyes. “What happened? Just too strong for you?” You jabbed him in the side lightly with your elbow. He barely moved, just rolled his eyes at you. “The fucker had these little…” He paused, searching for the words in his head, “Bugs, I don’t know, and they were everywhere and the more I killed them they doubled, it was so annoying.” “So you got beat up by bugs” “I never said that.”  Nero gave you the look that he was trying to save his ego, you can only imagine Nico’s hysterics yesterday. “Well I’m glad you’re okay- you just look like you had a wild night.” A smile crept on your face as you watched Nero’s face heat up just the slightest bit. It left as quickly as it came as he shoved your shoulder, walking out of the doorway. 

The day went on without too much drama, you accompanied Nico in her attempts to fix the radio in the van. You couldn’t help but chuckle every time she let out a string of curse words, like ‘fucknuts’ or ‘you mother shitter!’ Maybe it helped her focus. Scrubbing your body clean from grease, and washing your hair vigorously, it's the only way it stays clean. You stood in front of the mirror, analyzing your face, restraining yourself from picking anything and everything off of your skin. Glancing at the clock, it was only three in the afternoon, you really should socialize- outside of bars. That was enough convincing for you to go out, after getting dressed and ready to leave you picked open your wallet, you were a little richer than usual, weird. You dismissed it, putting the key into your ignition as you sped off into the road. 

Fortuna was quite busy today, the sidewalks were a little busier than usual, some of the individuals carried bags with various shop logos on them, and others had street food in their hands before stuffing their faces. You cruised down a street with many varying restaurants and business fronts, one caught your eye, there were around 20 boxes full of records, and you desperately needed new music to listen to at work, Dante hadn’t gotten a new record for far too long. You stopped and parked your bike on the side of the street as you wandered into the store, the cashier greeted you as you reciprocated the gesture. Drawn to the records you flipped through them, seeing covers you recognized, and some you didn’t. You went through maybe two or three boxes before the roar of an engine brought your attention to the street, an old bike tore through the streets, and the red paint started to chip at the corners, which looked very similar to Dante’s bike he’s abandoned over the years. A short black-haired woman sat ontop of it- Lady. You quickly abandoned your post at the record boxes and went outside, Lady’s face did not wear her normal expression, she was far too focused than usual. She stopped the bike in its tracks once she recognized your face and your accompanying bike.

“What are you doing out here?” You questioned her as you walked closer to her. “There's another hell gate that popped up in Red Grave, I was out here doing work before I realized.” Lady’s skin carried a light sheen of sweat, and maybe a few stains from demon guts. You weren’t sure how to respond other than ‘Go get 'em’ tiger!’ but it worried you that Lady was even breaking a sweat over it. “They are so annoying!” Lady groaned, before starting her engine again, “It’ll be fine, (Name). Nothing I can’t handle, I’ll call you when I’m done.”  “Y’know, Dante said the same thing about the one he was taking care of-” “There's another one?” You paused, you assumed she and Dante were on the same page or at least she knew about it, but Dante often didn’t think about telling people about his jobs unless someone was accompanying him or he was asked. “I mean, I’m not sure- Dante just mentioned that he had a job a couple hours out for a hell gate.” Lady let out another annoyed groan, “Okay well, thank you, I really gotta go.” You could barely respond before she drove away, you stood on the sidewalk, it had been a long time since you’d seen Lady even remotely worried about anything demon-related, and to be honest, you weren’t sure if she was concerned or annoyed. Your mind quickly wandered to Dante, if another hell gate popped up does that mean he got rid of the other one? Trying to soothe your worries by using the excuse that you have no idea about any of it, your knowledge of demons and hell was slim to none. Deciding to go home early, empty-handed. You weren’t gone longer than 30 minutes, your attempt to socialize was exceptionally short today. You pulled into the driveway, Nico seemed to be inside as the garage housed no life. Lifting your helmet off of your head, a faint crackling sound came from behind you, you turned around to see little sparks of blue seeming to form in the air. A deep blue smoke? What the fuck is that? The screen of smoke enlarged as a figure stepped out from it, a figure you recognised. One you wished you didn’t recognise, Vergil. His expression was plain as ever as you still sat on your bike, a little confused- a bit more than confused. He can just pop up anywhere, wherever he wants? You knew Dante could fly, and you weren’t sure why this came as a surprise to you. The door to inside Nero’s home opened as you followed the sound, Nero stepped down the stairs, walking towards you and Vergil. 

“What’s going on? Nero, you should not be going out right now, you’re still-” “I’m fine, (Name).” Nero’s voice was laced with a string of seriousness, something you weren’t familiar with, at least directed towards you. Vergil stood where he had popped up from his portal, rather you’re assuming that’s what it was. “I’m requesting Nero come with me to take care of a hell gate, he should learn how to properly deal with them.” Vergil’s words teetered on the edge of a scolding, your brows furrowed together, he has no room to be scolding Nero. You held your tongue as Nero did the same. Your words did not come easily to you, this feeling you get when you’re around Vergil was not one you liked, you felt so little compared to him. Not just in stature but status, it was suffocating and you hated it. It felt all too close to the suffocating nature of your ex-boyfriends and their tactics to belittle you.

“...be careful, Nero.” Your voice came out just above a squeak, you despised it. As if it was not in your control to speak up. Nero nodded and Vergil unsheathed his sword, as the same crackling blue sparked from his sword. He slashed the air with the blade, his movements direct and controlled. An identical deep blue screen opened in front of him, he turned his head towards Nero, silently motioning to step into the portal with him. Nero did not say anything to you, but a glance. You could not get comfort from it, the whole interaction was ominous and frankly frustrating because you had no idea what just transpired. They were gone just like that, the portal closed right after Nero stepped in, with no evidence that neither of them was ever here. You pulled your bike into the garage, a little more aggressively than normal. You pulled the keys from their spot in your bike, rushing through the house to your room, luckily Kyrie and Nico were preoccupied and did not see you come in. You escaped to your room, shutting the door and flopping onto your mattress.

You had to remind yourself to breathe, as annoying and frustrating that you could do nothing or that you didn’t know the whole story is, nothing you could do at this moment could change anything. You exhaled, carding your fingers through your hair to get them out of your face. Ever since Dante planted the question of why you never picked up devil hunting, it made you ever so conscious of your helplessness, you were weak. If a demon tried to kill you, you could do nothing. The thought only made you more frustrated, but to bring yourself to do anything about that fact was something you could decide later. Your body laid still, as your eyes stared into the ceiling of the room, and your thoughts spiralled in your mind. If there was an award for overthinking, you would have first place.

As always, thank you for reading! Maybe a separate Dante fic coming sometime soon…? (I'm rubbing my hands together deviously) -onyxroses Previous Chapter | Next Chapter (coming soon!)