#they just saw it on my intake forms and were actually good with it

[ghostickle]

Never in my life have I had a doctor call me the right name AND pronouns especially without me having to talk to them first I’m so happy

[hellishjoel]

talk me down

3.7k / therapist!joel x f!reader

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Summary: You’re finally ready to sit down and discuss your obvious daddy issues. Your therapist, Joel, has his methods. 

Warnings/Information/Heads-Up: MA 18+ (minors DNI), NO OUTBREAK, abuse of position (therapist!joel), discussions of parental divorce, daddy issues, praise kink, daddy kink, pet names, cursing/swearing, age gap, handjob (for a lil bit?) unprotected p in v, cockwarming (if you squint?), breathplay (I’m running out of breath typing all this are we good to go?) 

A/N: this is my first fic wow how exciting, I can’t thank my new friends enough for the brainstorming and helping make it to tumblr so let’s just get on with it yeah? tell me if you want more, my requests are open x

“Oooh, fuck,” you gasp, your head coming back up to watch as his hand disappeared under the drape of your skirt. Suddenly you felt him cup your aching mound, taking in a short breath at the feeling of finally getting some much-desired pressure down there.   “So fuckin’ wet… were you this wet during our whole session, kitten?” He asked. It was sick and twisted, you knew it was. That’s why you let out a shameful little nod, your legs wanting to clench around his hand there.  He let out a disgusted scoff, you deserved it. You wanted to fuck your therapist. 

“So what brings you here today?”

Your eyes shyly evade his, instead choosing to graze over the belongings of your new therapist’s office. It looked like a small library the way books were lined up and stacked on the shelves. The desk behind him was a dark oak, and everything had its place, not a pen out of line. After you deliberately ignore his question, he probes you again.

“It says on your intake form that you have... A distant relationship with your father due to your parents' divorce. Is that something you want to talk about with me today?”

His voice is sweet like honey, but you’re the only one dripping. You failed during your extended research on therapists to check his picture because you had no idea you signed up for someone so fucking handsome.

Your jaw was tight as you clamped your legs tighter together one draped over the other, trying to conceal your growing arousal. Talk, or he’ll think you’re mute!

“Yes.” You say, clearing your throat as you readjust your skirt over your lap, tugging at the hem.

You confide in Joel about the hardships of your parents growing up. The house was never quiet, always fighting, tearing each other down, and it just wasn’t healthy. You thought you’d thank the lord the day they filed for a divorce. You didn’t expect to lose the relationship you had with your father in the midst of it all.

You were still young, trying to grow up and learn, his absence mattered to you, even if it didn’t to your mother. He came around a lot at first. He’d pick you up from school and steal you away for a few hours, getting ice cream to celebrate your reunion with him.

But then, he got a new girlfriend. You weren’t sure how she managed to replace both you and your mother, but she did. You saw him less, he started not meeting your expectations. Soon, he became a weird distant memory. Now, as a young adult, you combat all the unjust things the wake of his departure caused. You couldn’t bear the thought of dating someone your age. Everyone was young and immature, asking for nudes over text after the first date if they even got your phone number at all. Now it was all just over social media or dating apps.

“Older men are just more... Refined. They have their priorities and goals, and they’re like... Actually accomplishing shit. Guys my age are just..” You paused, your eyes meeting his own to fill in the gaps.

“.. Not meeting your expectations?” Joel asked, his pen clutched in his hand as he scribbled something in his notepad.

“Right.” You let out breathily, your eyes falling to the chest hair you could see exposed by his button-up shirt.

This was a perfect example because look at Dr. Joel Miller! His Ph.D. decorated the wall with numerous other accolades on his shelves, so you knew he was smart. Being a therapist made him a good listener, you’d never have to feel like you were the therapist to a frat guy again.

You let out an involuntary whimper, a white-hot flash soaring through the pit of your stomach. You were dripping for him, and you could feel it against your clenched thighs.

“I know talking about these topics is difficult, but you’re doing a good job.” He praised you as you felt your chest and cheeks flush red with his attention.

Your breathing was staggered, you needed to release the tension between your legs desperately.

“You-- uhm, you think I’m doing a good job?”

His eyes flashed up to you with the question, something dark and tantalizing about the way he looked over you now. It was like a predator meeting prey the way his eyes began to rake over you.

Your arousal was obvious in the way your knee anxiously bounced up and down, continuing to readjust in your seat, begging for him to tell you that your time with him was up so you could go home and use your vibrator on your clit, thinking about Dr. Joel Miller between your legs.

You watched as he stood up from his chair across from you, your eyes tracking him as he nodded slowly. He clasped his hands behind his back, his strong biceps fighting the material of his shirt for dominance. The hand closest to you came down and did a delicate sweep around the rim of the chair you were sitting in.

“You’re doing great, baby girl.” He praised again, stopping to stand next to you. You were eye-level to his waist, your lips parting at the sight of the bulge in his pants. Oh, fuck me, so that’s what he’s been hiding behind his notepad.

His hand gently reached out to you, two straight fingers under your chin as he tilted you up to look at him. Your long eyelashes batted at him, teeth piercing down into your bottom lip. You let out an involuntary sigh as his hand moved up your cheek, bringing you in to rest against his thigh.

He was warm, and he smelled like Old Spice, god, you could swear it was the same one your dad used to use. You whimper at the thought, digging your face gently further into his protection. You felt his hand gently caress the back of your head, stroking back your hair from your face.

You wanted him, your pussy wanted him, and the throbbing need for his attention and affection was incurable. You began to press kisses into the material of his pants, losing all pride as you fell to your knees in front of him and palmed your hand over his growing erection.

You braved looking up at him, his face watching you in adoration, like he was proud of you.

“Is this what you want? I’ll do whatever you want.” You say meekly, desperate to please.

“You know what I think you need?” He asks, his voice dropped an octave, and it was making you purr. He was more sultry now, his hands finding yours and guiding you up off of the floor. You finally shake your head, your hands gently moving up his chest and feeling his toned pecs and broad shoulders.

Seeing him this close made your heart flutter. He was so handsome, so grown. His wispy curls were adorning the same salt and pepper as his beard. He had worn lines by his eyes and on his forehead, his curious mind must always be causing his brows to furrow. He had you breathless at the mouth and achingly wet down below.

“I think you need me to take care of you. Is that what you want, baby? Someone to show you how much they care about you? Someone to be where you need them most?” His strong hand is traveling down your front now, Joel’s pointer finger curling into the front of your skirt. Your lips part as he tugs so hard that you’re falling into him, your small hands clutching the landscape of his biceps.

“Yes-- fuck, please Joel, yes.” You nearly beg. Be there for me, be inside me.

He let out a heavy grunt of satisfaction, closing the distance between you as he cradled your face in his big hands and connected your lips. You felt safe, letting your walls fall down as he took care of you.

You melted in his hold, Joel’s tongue carefully gliding over your bottom one in a request for you to part yours for him. You followed his lead, a whimpering moan leaving you as you felt his tongue invade your mouth. He was moving you backward methodically until the back of your thighs hit the desk you previously admired. Your hips shook the frame, hearing pens and some papers clatter to the floor.

You felt overwhelmingly hot, you needed to shed some layers. Like the mind reader he was, Joel’s hands moved down to the hem of your top, breaking your heated kiss to discard the material in his way.

He generously cupped your breasts held away by your bra, another desperate moan leaving you as you watched him through hooded eyes admire your body. His hands were quick to settle on your hips, fingertips burning into your skin as he lifted you up onto the desk with ease. Fuck, he had the kind of strength that looked effortless.

Joel was taking charge, and it was so nice, he knew exactly what he wanted to do, and you didn’t have to worry about anything. His legs nudged your own open, cool air finally greeting your needy pussy. The sensation had your head falling back, accidentally breaking your kiss once more.

“Oooh, fuck,” you gasp, your head coming back up to watch as his hand disappeared under the drape of your skirt. Suddenly you felt him cup your aching mound, taking in a short breath at the feeling of finally getting some much-desired pressure down there.

“So fuckin’ wet… were you this wet during our whole session, kitten?” He asked. It was sick and twisted, you knew it was. That’s why you let out a shameful little nod, your legs wanting to clench around his hand there.

He let out a disgusted scoff, you deserved it. You wanted to fuck your therapist.

“You want daddy to take care of that for you with his cock?” His foul words had you at a loss of your own, your jaw slack as he pressed his hips into yours and you could feel his dick pressed right up against your pussy.

“Take daddy’s belt off.” He grumbled his orders, a quick nod leaving you. You didn’t want to waste his time.

“Yes.” You whimpered.

“Yes, what?” His voice was stern and articulate, making you bend your will as his close proximity flooded your senses. You couldn’t find his belt soon enough. You popped the button of his jeans and nearly tore off the zipper at his ask.

“Yes, daddy.” You whimper, a greedy smile on your lips to see you earned his favor. He adoringly cupped one side of your cheek as both of your heads rested against one another’s to watch you pull down his dark briefs.

He let out a strained grunt at the release, his flesh going to slap against his tanned stomach. He was already unbuttoning his shirt as you made a fist around him, watching his face to see how he liked it. Too fast? A little slower? Too rough... You paused and spat down on him, your eyes darting back up to his as he let out a satisfied sigh. Let me do it perfectly for you, Joel.

“So good for me.” He purred, his thumb brushing down the slope of your nose and over your swollen bottom lip that you had bruised from biting down so hard on it. He pushed the tip of his thumb past your lips, the intrusion a surprise but you eagerly sucked to appease him. The action made him swell in your hand to fullness, even beginning to feel too heavy in your hand as you continued to work over him.

“Is this all for me?” You asked eagerly, a sweet smile gracing your face.

You watched as he leaned in, your eyelashes fluttering closed as he came to press his warm lips against the crown of your head. “All for you, baby girl.” He mumbled against your forehead.

“Oh,” you let out in a sweet surprised little moan, your hand working over him eagerly faster. You didn’t care if you got off at this point, as long as he did.

“Lie back, baby.” His voice was rocky like gravel, you could already see his chest heaving at the attention of your hands. You did as he asked, but not before he unclipped your bra so your tits were on full show for him.

You reached one of your hands back, already gripping the edge of the table as you braced yourself for him. He was so large, easily the largest you had ever been with. You wanted to feel every inch of man that he was inside of your throbbing cunt.

Your skirt was merely an obstacle in his way, watching him toss it up to show your lacey panties underneath. You bit down on your lip with a wide smirk on your face, he really liked the lace.

“So fuckin pretty,” he admired, your hands coming to rest over his own, your nails gently grazing down his forearms to his fingers. His pointer finger and thumb grazed over the soaked material, admiring how he could see your pretty pussy underneath it. The lace was so dainty and fragile in his hands, he could just--

You gasp as his large hands rip the delicate lace right open, a messy opening of broken threads but now, he had unlimited access to your sex. He was so strong, you hoped he would split you open the same way.

His hands took a grip on the tops of your parted thighs from the outside, taking one foul yank as you felt him press his cock between your wet folds. You were back to gripping and stroking over his forearms, your delicate hand coming up to feel his stubbled cheek.

“Joel please, I need you.” you whimpered out, his head nodding against yours as a few of the curlier strands on his head fell onto his forehead. He was so handsome when he was turned on.

Joel’s heavy huffs broke the eye contact of his cock gliding up and down your arousal, the slick lubing him perfectly. He was perfectly glazed over now, all because of you, his heavy thumb coming down to gently circle over your throbbing clit.

You let out a cry at the much-needed attention, your walls pulsing for him to fill you up.

“Joel!” You whined out in anticipation, your jaw dropping as he finally guided his tip to you without warning and slammed into your depths until he bottomed out in one thrust. His hand was quick to clamp over your mouth, stopping you from letting out a sobbing moan as tears started to swell at the brim of your eyes.

“Don’t want anyone to hear us, princess,” His voice was broken by grunts and loose breaths, his palm swallowing your hot high pitched whines. “Or else we’ll have to stop.” You did not want him to stop!

You quickly shook your head and clasped your wrist around his which kept your mouth shut. I’ll be good, I’ll be good for you Joel. A tear slipped as you peppered apologetic kisses to the inside of his palm, your eyes desperately connecting with his in a silent ask for him to please continue fucking you.

Joel swiveled his hips back, his jeans clinging to his upper thighs as he rolled back into you. You couldn’t help but clench your eyes closed and let out a broken moan. He filled you up in all the best ways possible, he was perfect inside of you, every goddamn inch. You didn’t realize how loud you had gotten, his hand pushing your head down further into the desk and squeezing into your cheeks until you snapped out of it.

“What did fuckin’ tell you?” He punched out. God, you could feel him pulsating inside of your tight walls.

“God, this tight pussy feels so-- fuckin’ good.”

You moaned quietly at the compliment, a blissed-out smile on your lips still against his palm as he started a steady rhythm rocking into you.

You whimpered as the desk started to creak with each of his heavy thrusts, pinching your ass against the desk but he felt too good to complain. Sure, you’d have a red line imprinted on your cheeks, but hell, it was so worth it. “Such a good fuckin’ girl, little angel for me-- fuck,” he grunted as he used the hand wrapped around your mouth as leverage, holding your head down as his hips snapped into you mercilessly. You were crying out moans into his palm, but nothing loud ever left the room, just like he wanted.

Your hands are clenching at the desk now, desperate not to fly off. Through blurry eyes, you saw his face, tight and twisted as he admired the way your breasts bounced with each of his thrusts.

You bravely reached up to take his hand around your mouth, shifting it down to wrap around your windpipe. You gave him an angelic little smile, biting down on your lower lip to hold in your dirty moans.

Joel watched you in awe, nodding with his sick little half-smirk as he started to squeeze at the sides of your throat. Fuck, he’s done this before, he knows exactly what he’s doing. The heightened experience turns you on, he’s not some 20-something idiot who cares only about getting his dick wet. Joel wants you to cum.

“You look at me baby.. fuck--, don’t break eye contact until you wanna breathe, darlin’.” His accent drawled in your ear and made your pussy even wetter for him. One of his hands squeezed at the sides of your delicate windpipe, his other hand snaking between you two as his electric fingers found your buzzing clit.

The attention was a lot, but you were a whore for it.

His thrusts grew sloppier, but he was pacing himself, Joel wants you to cum first.

You whimper at the idea of him putting you ahead of his own interested and needs, your head growing foggy as your wrist wrapped around his own that held you down but you didn’t look away from his amber eyes. He licked his lips in desire watching you, your lips parting for air as you finally looked away.

He followed through on his promise, his strong hands going lax as your head fell to the side, eyes closing in bliss while your pussy fluttered around his dick.

“Fuck baby girl,” he panted through a mumble as his spare hand massaged over your breasts. “Got me losin’ my goddamn mind.” He moaned something that resembled your name, pinching at your sensitive peaks until he had you whimpering.

“Joel I- oh god,” your stomach dropped as the tip of his dick massaged at your sweet spot, a cry threatening to spill from your lips but you knew he didn’t like you being too loud in his office so you hold it in, your cheeks going hot red.

It was all too much. Your foggy head, his hands on your sensitive bits, his fucking dick slamming into you. You felt so small in his hold, his body shielding you from the outside world as he drove you face-first into your earth-shattering orgasm.

“Joel-Joel please, fuck, I’m gonna-,” Your chin tilted up and your back arched, his hand instantly moving back up to your throat so you could feel even more floated during the crash of your orgasm.

“Cum for me princess. Cum for me now.” He demanded in a mumble.

It coursed through your body like an electric current, your body short-circuiting from the amount of pleasure it was receiving all at once.

Your lips were parted, but nothing came out. You couldn’t hear a thing, only Joel, only him as he ruts himself against your core and you feel him spill his hot cum into the depths of your sex. You lazily smirked as you made your walls flutter around him, your core pulsing. Could almost feel him in your belly.

His breaths were heavy, heavenly. It made your skin clammy, the both of you so fucked up that you were stuck in place. You didn’t realize it, but you had reached up to cup his face, your thumb gently gliding down the curve of his crooked nose. Your lips gently came together as your head came up, kissing the tip of his nose before going to lay back down on his desk.

“Oh, baby girl,” Joel purred in adoration, his mouth coming down to greet yours in a delicate kiss. “Did such a good job.” Both of you were so drunk on your orgasms, everything was so perfect.

You lazily kissed him back, your arms wrapping around the tops of his shoulders with your fingers lightly fisting the hair at the nape of his neck to keep him close as he softened inside of you. You could stay here like this forever.

You glanced over just in time, seeing the last grain of sand fall down in his glass sand timer. Your session with Dr. Joel Miller was over.

He helped you hop off his desk, your wobbly legs needing to find their strength again. His cum was already meeting the tops of your inner thighs, your face blushing at the feeling. You were quite literally gaping for him.

Joel cleared his throat and easily pulled his jeans back up to the top of his hips at his waist, securing his belt and zipper before he fisted your discarded, ripped apart panties.

“Oh,” you whispered a bit embarrassed at the sight of them. You had just finished pulling your shirt back onto your torso, stuffing your bra inside your purse. No way you were going to try and put that thing back on. You reached out for him to hand them over, your eyes widening as he pulled his hand away and stuffed them into his pocket.

“For safe keeping…” He trailed off, his eyes still dark as they looked down at your wide ones. Well, you weren’t getting those back any time soon. They were his now, your torn to threads black lace panties. You nodded and weakly smiled, still trying to catch your breath.

Joel walked you out, tapping his absentminded secretary’s desk to tell her to find something in both of your calendars for a future date.

“I think I can really help you work this out.” He told you on your way out.

As you left his office, you felt like everyone knew what you had just done. But for now, it was just a secret for you and your therapist, Joel.

---------------- taglist: let's be fr lol If you liked talk me down, check out pretty little thing!

[aesfocus]

TW: ANIMAL DEATH

A tiny little celebration and recounting of this lil old lady, who passed away yesterday april 22 2024, 6 years to the day her adopted sister left the world.

Read on to learn about her adoption story and some of her fav things!

I made sure she had a comfortable lovely weekend, but she let me know it was time.

So who was Turtle?

In Aug 2010 I went to a local shelter and adopted 2 kitties. One a kitten we named Genki, and another a 1+ year old mystery owner surrender they named Hello Kitty.

She saw us and started yelling and slamming herself on the glass to show us how to pet her. She snugged onto my lap immediately in the little private room to meet her and I was in love instantly.

But back at home she was very scared. She hid under the couch for three days only peaking her head out to eat some food and then she went back in. This would be the last time in her life she would be shy, but I didn't know it so I named her...

Alligator Snapping Turtle; Turtle!

She quickly became my shadow. Clinging to me night and day. She would jump onto the back of my chair, lay on my back and slowly slide down towards my butt. She did this so frequently she managed to break the chair, eventually. After that all my chairs have been bought with more room for her to snug me. For a whole decade.

If someone visited, she would insist they hold her, or she'd sleep on them in their sleep. She once was held through a 3 hour long DnD session by someone she had just met; she loved people. Loved being pet, but above all, she adored me.

She had a specific meow for me, she spent every single night for nearly 14 years in between my legs, and unfortunately, as she got older she got separation anxiety real bad. She would cry and cry for about an hour each time I left. (I rarely do as I no longer work but even a trip to the grocery store did not leave her happy!) I know this because my husband had plenty of videos of her standing at the door hoping I would return.

No matter what I did in the house there she was.

But lets back up a moment, remember that bit about owner surrender? That intake form was interesting. with questions like "What is your pets favorite toy?" came answers like 'small glove'. She spent at least a year in someone with 7 children's garage. They fed her 'cheep food' and knew very little about her past other than they found her about a year prior. No judgements to them, but this girl was a lap cat to end lap cats. You would pick her up and move her to stand and she'd jump right back into your lap. She's dig her claws in if she thought you were trying to leave. She wanted the warmth god damn it!

Here is her on top my husband. Human's were good options.

Heat vent? Also a great option.

She would, when I worked, stay in bed in the covers right where I left her until I came home from work, all nice and cozy.

She loved it when my husband worked from home, gave her ample time to try and fry his laptop during his breaks or lunches.

But her fav place was on top of me. I set up my desk just for her actually! This big living room chair was purchased so she could always be near me.

Because the previous snug situation was not cutting it!

Here she is on the chair I bought for us.

She was never very photogenic, because she saw my hand and wanted pets. If I wasn't petting her she'd cry and show me how to pet her with her paws, or she'd flop around or rub herself on something and look up at me like 'come ooooonnn you know the good spots.'

Or she would do a 'turkey twerky'(where cats twitch their tails and step from foot to foot rapidly in excitement).

Her fav toy it turned out was not a 'small glove' but in fact the simple spring. Yellow was her fav color of the springs, but past that any small bit of plastic she could chase around and yell at was great. She was a very loud little lady!

I sang her a song daily for about ten years;

"Her name is turtle! and she's a turtle! And she's got a lot to say!"

after which she'd generally make a BIG meow and I'd give her tons of attention. Because she was my lil baby girl.

But her all time fav thing, beside me of course, was going outside. She didn't get to much as I believe in, and have, indoor only cats, but on special nice days we'd go outside and she'd gets some nice supervised time with the grass. (She made the other cats jealous because only she was let outside without a harness, but that's because if she wasn't in about a 2 foot radius of me she'd come back and yell at me to follow/I was able to out run her.)

Last year I had her shaved, because she was a fat cat who was struggling with cleaning herself so we were going to get on a rotation of shaving and baths and brushing to make sure she stayed nice and clean...

But unfortunately she began to drop in weight very quickly, the primary sign something was very wrong.

She was adopted on the same day as Genki, and six years to the day she passed on the same day as her sister. Genki lost a very long fight with a fungal pneumonia in 2018 and our hearts shattered and then yesterday they did it again.

If Turtle was my heart, my little shadow, then Genki was my husband's.

Turtle was such an amazing good friend, I have so many memories of her and it doesn't seem real that she's gone. But I wanted to keep this light, and positive, and so I will end it with, adopt.

Don't shop, adopt. You never know who is waiting for you in a shelter, what kind of very full wonderful life you can provide each other! Hello Kitty became Turtle and she knew that name, she'd come running any time I called, she was my very best friend and I miss her so fucking much.

[katsuthelittlekitten]

Not a choice love

Klaus x Reader

It's late and you're walking home. As you're walking, you don't look where you're going and you bump into someone. Are you alright, love?

Your eyes went up to his and you felt your breath get stuck in your lungs at the sight. Who is this...he certainly is the hotest guy you ever seen and you just started to blush like a tomato in front of him feeling suddenly so small and vulnerable to even speak.

He smirks hello cutie! You weren't watching where you're going he said in a teasing voice and looks at you from head to toe.

Waw his voice...it was just so hot that you felt like moaning out loud just at it. However, luckily you succeeded in keeping your voice in check when you answered him with a small and literally so cute voice.

Sorry, I should have been more carefull...

Oh no. You're just so adorable! he says in a mocking voice. He's enjoying your embarrassment why don't I take you home he says picking you up in his arms.

You observe him and felt ashamed when he mocked you. Then you heard him say he wanted to take you home and your eyes went wide at the idea of a stranger literally kidnapping you. So you tried to resist when he took you into his arm, but it was useless apparently. This guy was way to strong and you started to breath faster. Please put me down I don't even know you, I just wanted to go home please...

He looks at you with smug in his eyes. Oh darling, you don't have a choice. Don't worry love. All I want is spend some time with you and...see how you love me he gives you a devilish grin. I promise I'll bring you home later, alright!

But! Sir I can't my boyfriend's waiting form me, he's going to think something happened if I don't get home soon.

Boyfriend?!?! his eyes widened you have a boyfriend?!

Your cheeks reden again and you bite your lips before nodding weakly. Yes I do.

Klaus throws you on the ground like if you were a piece of trash so, you're wasting my time little girl?! he says in a cold and sinister voice while keeping his eyes on you.

In an instant you landed on the ground, the impact came so suddenly that you didn't really have time to prepare yourself for it. There was a sharp intake of breath that came from your lips the second you touched the ground followed by a crie of pain from you. You started to see blood soaking your long sleeve top coming from your wrist, that apparently was now cut open slightly because he landed on a pointy rock on the ground. It hurt quite bad to be fair and you felt tears start to fall down your eyes.

As you were crying from pain, a smirk appears on Klaus's lips. He slowly walks towards you. You are still a beauty even when crying he says in a calm voice. Without a warning, he kisses you with a lot of passion what about that boyfriend now?

You were still shoked by what happened and you tried to keep you hand on the wound to keep it from bleeding to much, that even if it didn't really worked. Then you saw the man that just dropped you on the ground approaching you and before you actually could say or do anything, his lips were on yours and he was kissing you hard. You would have to say that it felt really good and for a moment you lost yourself and kissed him back. Then you realised your mistake and you panicked, pushing yourself way from him with a stunned expression in your face.

Fuck what did you just do...

Aww he caresses your head gently but you could feel the arrogance in his eyes you are still cute when you're stunned. he pulls you toward him again and kisses you another time with all the passion he has. You could feel the excitement in his whole body. He's enjoying every second of this.

You looked at him with unbelief and anger, I mean how could he do that when you just told him about your boyfriend. Oh and while you are actually bleeding abundantly here. What kind of freak was that!? That's when he actually kissed you again and this time, you didn't waist a second to push him away from you. Go away from me what the fuck!

I don't care about your boyfriend love, he says in a menacing voice. And you could see how the color of his eyes changed from light blue to orange don't waste my time he pushes you against the wall and pins your shoulders so you can't get away. That's your last chance he says in a calm voice while you feel his whole body against yours.

Your eyes were still in his and you felt your whole body shiver in fear when he spoke up to you. His voice was cold and menacing and you felt that you suddenly wasn't in security. Then, his eyes change color again, becoming orange with dark black vein under his eyes. Your body was crashed to a wall suddenly after that and you groan with pain before you started crying desperately. Please don't hurt me...I You stopped yourself from talking when you started feeling dizzy, probably because of the amount of blood that you lost. Your surrounding started to become darker and darker before you finally lost consciousness.

As you lost consciousness, he was looking at you like he was an animal who had just caught its prey. He takes a deep breath and picks you up in his arms let's go to my den! he says in a menacing voice and disappears with you in his arms...he had kidnapped you.

[bleachbleachbleach]

I don't know if you'll see this, but I've been having this thought for a while and needed to share

You have already shared your view about that whole "souls can't remember their lives before Soul Society" and such, but I've been thinking...

It's ever said that the souls in Rokungai know that they're dead? Well, the Shinigami makes sense to know and the other souls knows about the Shinigami, obviously, but I don't remember if it was ever commented about them knowing they're dead when they wake up in Soul Society

Maybe someone else needs to explain them the situation when a new soul appears? Idk

What do you think?

And excuse me if I'm being dumb about this topic, I'm just not good at remembering stuff

This blog receives 1 ask every few months and averages about 9 notes per post. XD Of course we saw this! Thank you for stopping by! <3

I think this might be in reference to tags we left on this post? At least, that's the most recent discussion I can recall.

Canonically speaking, this guy comes to mind, who knows the year and location of his death:

[Bleach 076 -- (Sorry, no original text--I'm not on the right laptop right now!]

Granted, that doesn't mean he knew this immediately on entry into Soul Society, or knew that he was in this place because he'd died!

But then, of course, there's also this whole ticket system, so I suppose even if you didn't know intrinsically that you had died, some terrible dude dressed in black and shouting about your having died might be something you take at face value (or not!). Or maybe people in Rukongai find you first, and you get the folktale of your own death from souls like you before they send you off to the proper authorities for your ticket.

I've also written fanfic where Hinamori does a more intensive intake of a soul, sort of like what you're describing (though in his case, he knows he's dead, because he died on purpose).

My preference is pretty much always going to be for things to be as paradoxical, contradictory, elusive, and mutable as possible, so if I were going to incorporate Mr. "1947 in Yamanashi" into something, there's a 99% certainty he'd be the odd duck out in terms of having retained that information, and it would be info that existed in fragments and broken conjurations. I'd probably write that there were entire divination practices within different Rukongai subcultures that strove to either remember/cogently arrange the past, or predict the future (in reincarnation), and it's this whole elaborate thing. Some of the divinators are probably legit--but many are probably charlatans who implant all manner of weird, potentially harmful false memories in people--or benign but ultimately untrue--things in people's heads. But then, maybe that's all they need to be. When you're constantly told that the ghost-life you are currently living exists only as a waypoint or halfway between one reality and the next, I imagine it's hard to hold onto desire. Whether the spark is real or not, maybe the fact of the spark is all that comes to matter.

Personally, I also like the idea that although shinigami have this whole ticket system and they'd love for souls to enter into Soul Society all in the same place, in an orderly fashion, that's not necessarily how it works, and the number crunching the 12th does about how many souls are in which district (and which plane of existence) is based on statistical models and cannot actually account individually for each soul. Maybe some come into Soul Society in human form. Maybe some were STILL A BIRD when they arrived, but ultimately became a boy. Maybe some souls spring out fully formed and humanoid and others are elemental first, before solidifying into something else. Maybe some are cut out of peaches or bamboo, or appear as monsters, almost as Hollows--until it turns out they were a human soul all along (or were they...)

Anyway, that's where I'd take that! I'd love to hear more about your thoughts re: who explains the situation. It's a really fun question!

[an-idyllic-novelist]

Morning Glory [aki hayakawa x gn!reader]

Warnings: mentions of excessive alcoholic intake, some strong language, ooc, and fluffy goodness.

Special thanks to @d10nsaint for proofreading/editing this piece. Enjoy! :)

A pounding headache was the first thing that Aki felt when he blearily opened his eyes. Another night spent drinking with Himeno and the others in Special Division 4, and he was paying the price for being a fucking lightweight, again. Shit. He blinked, scrunching his brows in confusion. Wait a minute.

The ceiling in his bedroom was an off-white, and the curtains were always closed. The futon is big enough for an extra person. But the ceiling he’s looking at is a shade of sunflower-yellow, and there were streaks of sunlight emitting from a window. He feels cramped. His cobalt-blue orbs widened before he pushed himself up, only to feel a wave of vertigo wash over his body. Looking down, he saw that he’s still in his uniform minus his jacket, a baby blue blanket draped over his hips, plus a plastic green bucket on the floor.

A couch. He’s slept on a leather couch in someone else’s apartment but where the fuck is he? And why is there a bucket right next to him? Where the hell is he?!

Shrringh.

Aki whipped his head upwards, seeing someone come out from the window wearing jean overalls over a turquoise tank top. His mind begins to spin. Ah… so the window is a sliding glass door to someone’s veranda. But who…

“Mornin’ sunshine.” The stranger greeted cheerily, their bare feet smacking against the wooden floor and away from the veranda, the sunlight bouncing off of their back as the small shade of darkness revealed a face Aki was very familiar with. “Sleep well?” [First Name] asked, cradling a green watering can in their hands. “I didn’t wake ya up, did I? My bad. I was tryin’ to be quiet while I watered my morning glories but that darn door is gettin’ harder and harder to open and close. I’ll need to get a hold of the landlord on Monday to see what they can do about it.”

Fantastic. Aki thought bitterly. Not only do I get fucking hammered, but I’m in their apartment? That’s great. An absolutely wonderful first impression to a co-worker who’s known to be extremely professional at Public Safety who just happens to be the person I’m crushing on. And they actually smile. ShitFuckMe.

“Hayakawa-san?”

Cheeks burning, he ignored the rising heat and tried to cover it up with a cough. “What happened?” He asked. [First Name] shrugged their shoulders.

“The usual, I guess? Himeno-san challenged you to a drinking contest and you lost after four beers. I brought you back here since my place was the closest an’ so you could sleep it off.”

“And the bucket?”

“In case ya throw up. Himeno-san was here the last time she got drunk and…well, she tried finding the bathroom and ended up regurgitating all over the place. I don’t wanna have a repeat incident, if you catch my drift.”

He nodded. “That makes sense. Do you - Could I trouble you for some water?” The back of his throat was itching. He really wanted to have a morning cigarette and some coffee. But could he even smoke here? He was already being a nuisance already, maybe he could hold back on the coffin nail until he got his shit together and was on the street? He’d been lucky that his flat allowed smoking so long as it wasn’t inside.

[First Name] blinked. “Sure, I can do that. Ya want some coffee too?”

“That’d be great.” He said.

“Corgi, black cat, or purple kraken?”

“Excuse me?”

[First Name] repeated what they said. He stared at them in confusion before he said ‘black cat’, whatever that is supposed to mean. They nodded, a smile still on their face as they turned away from him and towards the back of the apartment. Aki’s eyes followed their form to a small kitchenette. They placed the watering can on top of the marble breakfast bar before shuffling towards the cupboard, revealing three shelves of coffee cups, each more unique than the last. Realization hit Aki when [First Name] pulled out a white cup stamped with a black cat sitting on the edge of a crescent moon, then another one in the shape of a pink octopus. Ah. So that’s what they were referring to.

When he saw them grounding coffee in a hand crank grinder that’s similar to the one he had at home, he turned his attention away to glance around what is most certainly the main living room. There wasn’t a television nor a kotatsu, but behind the couch was a bookshelf crammed haphazardly with texts. There were two, three more stacks on the floor, leading to the half-cracked door of the master bedroom. In front of him was a coffee table with octopus-shaped drink coasters and a folded up newspaper.

[First Name]’s reputation in Public Safety was not just being a competent devil hunter; Makima-san trusted very few individuals with handling the paperwork that circulated between her division and the higher-ups, let alone relay any last minute changes to certain documents. [First Name] was an asset to his supervisor, and the other divisions to ensure that there is a consistent flow of their endless paper trails. Should anything be missing or was not turned in on time, you would be getting a visit from an irate [First Name] to please hand everything over or a lecture on the importance of punctuality, whichever came first.

Their desk is rumored to be decorated with mermaid paperweights, feathered pens, miniature bonsai trees, and even a lava lamp. Anyone who has seen this mystical area was absolutely silent on the matter, even the newbies under Himeno’s care. The most common item seen around the office were octopus-shaped sticky notes; they were placed on either documents that needed to be corrected and returned promptly, or as little thank-you notes taped to ice/hot coffees. A little gift of gratitude to devil hunters who risked their lives on a particularly difficult mission.

He, Himeno, and the rest of the group received a ‘gift’ after their scuffle with the Eternity Devil a while back.

Throwing the blanket off of him, Aki stood up on wobbly feet and walked around the couch to look at the bookshelf. Now that he thought up, he’d occasionally see his coworker carrying a book around the office, but never see them read it. His eyes scanned the shelves. The spines were filled with various subjects; fairy tales, national history, geography, murder mysteries, Osamu Dazai, and a few titles in English.

“See anything ya like?”

Aki jumped a little, swiveling his head to the right to see [First Name] holding a mug and bottled water in either hand. They extended the hand that held the black cat mug to him, the steam and rich scent of dark roasted coffee beans tickling his nose. Murmuring a ‘thank you’ under his breath, Aki practically inhaled the first sip of caffeinated liquid. Sugar and a splash of milk. It’s not what he normally drinks, but he’s not going to complain.

“You’re quite the prolific reader.” He commented, glancing back at the bookshelf then at the stack by his feet. “Do you read a new book every day or something?” He meant it as a light-hearted joke to break the awkward silence, nothing offensive.

When he took another sip of his coffee, he almost spat it out upon hearing [First Name]’s response.

“Pretty much. I mean, I can read about 20,000 words per minute and can recall the contents thanks to my eidetic memory.”

Aki’s brain screeched to a halt. Huh? “You…You can remember what you read and…how many words per minute?”

“20,000. Kinda stinks ‘cause I gotta find more books to read during my down-time since I don’t really watch TV anymore like I used to.”

Aki eyed the bookshelf again, his gaze falling onto a random title. “Then….what happened in the…second act of Romeo and Juliet?” He challenged. “Everything, from start to finish.”

[First Name]’s eyes brightened, then suddenly they rambled on what happened after the star-crossed lovers exchanged vows at the altar, stating odd facts about William Shakespeare, the way he wrote the text, and how all of the parts were played by men, etc.

Aki stared at them, speechless at their comprehension of the text. Great. He thought glumly. Not only is his crush an incredibly gorgeous person but they are also highly intelligent? How in the world could he even impress them in the field besides being a competent devil hunter? Before his thoughts took a more depressing turn, [First Name]’s timid voice reached out to him.

“Uh, sorry.” They mumbled, handing him the bottled water. “Didn’t mean to go off on a tangent like that. It’s just…I really like books, but I keep forgetting some people don’t like to read. Which is fine, I mean, ya gotta have other hobbies to keep yourself sane, ‘specially in the line of work we have. Or an addiction, like Himeno-san said last night.”

“It’s all right, really,” Aki quickly said, taking the offered beverage in his other hand. “There’s nothing wrong with being passionate about something.”

“I guess. Do you have any hobbies?” They asked, tilting their head to the side in a way that was almost cute to the devil hunter. Aki smiled a little.

“No, but I do like to cook.”

[First Name]’s brow rose into their hairline. “Really?” They said, turning on the ball of their heel and walked around towards the couch but kept their eyes on him. “What recipes do you like to cook?”

For the next hour, the two of them talked on the couch. Aki rambled on about what dishes he enjoyed making the most, which ones were the most time-consuming and the best ones to prepare ahead of time so that you could enjoy it the following day if you had to work overtime. By the time he had freshened up and had a second cup of coffee, Aki was ready to leave.

“Thanks again for…everything.” He said, slipping his shoes on by the front door. [First Name] nodded, a small smile on their face as they held up their pink octopus mug.

“No problem. Gotta admit, it was nice talkin’ to ya outside of work hours. You’re very handsome when you’re talking, and confident.”

Aki felt his ears burning. “…Thank you.” He murmured. “If you want, I can teach you a few recipes….when there’s time after hours.” He cursed his burning face, and then the rapid beating of his heart when [First Name]’s smile widened at his words.

“That’d be nice. Get home safely, yeah?”

“Of course.”

Aki then left the apartment, praying to any deity that heard his pleas to calm his mind and body down before he got home. The last thing he needed right now is Power and Denji’s relentless teasing, the little shitheads.

[futureplayboibunnie]

Okay babe i got a request/idea for a new ficccc

it’s like a hurt/comfort/smut idea 🤗

what if the reader is an avenger and they lost someone they were very close to (as if said character passed away) so she didn’t want to go to anybody but stephen to talk abt it because they’ve always been ‘best’ friends and she feels a connection with him that she doesn’t have with anyone else because they’re actually meant for eachother and it ends in someone or both of them confessing their feelings n smut 😏😏

‘Boundless’

Dr Strange x fem!readee

OH MY GOD OH MY GOD. i love writing angsty smutty fics AAAAAH i love <3 18+ (as always cuz im a whore and only write smut)

The day was impossibly grey, a bleak horizon followed you wherever you went- it followed just about everyone. The gaping loss of Tony and Natasha was eating away at everyones blackened hearts.

For you and Stephen, however, it was different. Stephen felt he was solely responsible for Tony's sacrifice and your heart was tearing apart and angered by the way Natasha had to be so goddamn stubborn and good. Two ultimate sacrifices that would change the course of fate.

It was easy trying to disappear in the humdrum of things, everything was intensely chaotic and isolating yourself felt like the only sane option-if not you were sure you would implode or burst into tears. However, it was increasingly difficult when Stephen was right there- waiting for you to come to him, waiting for you to cry on his sleeve until your body was heaving with nothing left to offer. When you went quiet, you turned posionous and verbally tounge lash anyone who came your way and Stephen wanted to avoid that at all costs. That's why it surprised him when you finally let him come to you, teary eyed and breathless-peripheral bleared by the soaked salt.

It was about a few weeks after the loss and Stephen thought that it was best for you to approach him in your own time, he wanted to be there when you inevitably crack. You had called him, sniffling and voice quivering.

‘’Y/N? You okay?’’Stephen answered adamently, afraid that he would cross a line so fresh.

‘’Can you come.. here?’’ You heaved. ‘’Can you be with me?’’ You finally whispered out. Stephen was already conjuring a portal to your apartment, he didn't need to be told twice.

Stephen stumbled his way through and he found you, wild and disoriented- pacing around your living room as you picked at your nails and let out small intakes of breath. It seemed that you were about to go to sleep, but your thoughts were keeping you awake- all the words left unsaid.

When you saw him, it felt like your whole world came tumbling down. You were stuck and you couldn't move; all you wanted to do was run up to him and hug him but all you could do was freeze. As your eyes met his, a hot tear fell and rolled down your cheek. You buried your face in your hands and weeped into them, catching stray tears in the process.

‘’Oh, come here.’’ Stephen sighed in sympathy and endearment, he made his way over to you and embraced you in his arms.

You fell into him, face meeting his broad shoulder as you began crying into him. Stephen could smell the scent of your shampoo, he wrapped his large arms around you and you found catharsis in such human connection.

‘’I just- I'm sorry. I feel like I can't be alone right now.’’ You admitted through soft sobs as Stephen stroked your hair. He carefully extracted your face away from his shoulder and cradled your face so you could look up at him through teary eyes.

‘’You wanna tell me what you're feeling?’’ Stephen asked, coaxing you out. To his surprise you nodded and sat down on your couch and he sat next to you.

You were silent for a while, breathing in and out as your elbows dug into your knees as you held your face- attempting to form the words to vocalise how you were feeling. The gaping hole within you becoming wider and wider, only exasterbated by your voluntary isolation.

The hole only Stephen could heal; he watched you through discerning eyes. Stephen stared at your face, urging you to continue.

‘’I just feel...resentment. It's like poison, Stephen.’’ You whispered.

Stephen just listened in response.

‘’We could've done more. I could've done more and now I'm supposed to accept the fact that we're never going to see them again?’’ You felt like you were about to burst into hysterics, your mind pacing and your arms flailing slightly as you carded your fingers in your hair.

All Stephen could do was stay silent.

‘’I'm useless, Stephen. All the times I never listened to Tony or all the times I undermined and underestimated Natasha, I swear all of this is just recompence for my stubborness and it'll rain down hell before I’ll stop feeling this soul eating guilt.’’ You spluttered absentmindedly, you were rambling now and Stephen's eyes wilted with every word you breathed- the fact you felt this much in such little time was slowly breaking his heart.

‘It just won't stop.’

The words were left in the air for a while. Stephen clasped both of your hands in his and raised them to his lips. Your breath halted for a moment as the tears ceased, stinging your already read eyes.

‘’You're wrong.’’ He stated simply as his eyes flitted to yours. ‘’Look at me, you're not useless. You are not any of those things, what I'm looking at right now is someone who is going through the hell that is grief. The love you have for them only tells me your empathy knows no bounds.’’

You had honestly clocked out and phased his words out before he grabbed you by the face and looked you dead in the eye.

‘’You're not indestructable, you are impossibly human with a heart bigger than your mouth.’’ You huffed out a shy chuckle at his brashness.

‘’You are not your mistakes, your guilt is merely a collection of the love you still harbour for them.’’

Your lip quivered at how soft he was being with you, he was treating you so delicately.

‘’You're light. You're my light, I-‘’ Stephen cut himself off as his mind and tongue were running rampant simultaneously. The manifestations of his desires were in abundance and ripe for the taking.

You gawked into the vast blue of his eyes, the event horizon dragging you in oncre more and you felt like you were drowning in him. Your fingers travelled to his hair as you pleaded with him to continue- to tell you what you needed to hear.

‘’Listen to me- you matter. None of this falls on your shoulders. You matter...so much.’’He finally spat out as he reaffirmed his blossiming feelings for you, but he pondered if he should say it more blatantly in a way that wouldn't go over your head.

‘’You matter so much to me.’’Stephen mumbled as he stared at your lips a lot longer than he should've. You began shuffling under his hold and nodding your head vehemently as streaks of salt fell from your eyes.

‘’Is that true, or another lie to just make me feel better?’’ You muttered, holding onto his hair tighter than before.

‘’Never been more honest. Believe me.’’

You just had to run your mouth.

‘’That means nothing if you can't prove it, Stephen.’’ Your voice sounded defeated, you moved your head to the side to pull away from him but to your surprise he held your face back to look into his bare eyes once more.

Stephen was contemplating two decisions he knew he would ultimately regret. Kiss you to show you he was telling the truth or let you go and play it safe. You knew in your heart that this was an impossible ask fora Stephen, to finally let out into the open feelings that best be left uncrossed. Being so close to him had its downsides, you finally got to understand that he wasn't very good at confronting his feelings let alone get it out in the open.

But for you Stephen was willing to risk everything.

Stephen pressed his lips to yours delicately. Coaxing out the waters of your troubled mind and help you ease back to the shore. Once he had it in himself to peel away from you, your eyes brought him back from his trance like state. They were wild and aglow. You finally found it in yourself to speak.

‘’Is there something you want to tell me?’’ You breathed.

‘’Is there something you want to tell me?’’ He repeated way too happily, urging you to go first even though you didn't want to.

‘’Admit to you how much I want you or admit to how long I've waited for you to do that?’’ Stephen brushed his thumb on your bottom lip as you told him your innermost thoughts.

‘’I just can't stop thinking about you. I haven’t been here for you and it’s eating me up inside." He confessed in shame and it would be true in saying that it was one of the most difficult things he's ever had to do but it was for you. You needed to hear that from him.

‘’Can you stay with me?’’ You whispered. ‘’Stay with me. Please.’’ You spluttered and how could Stephen refuse.

You kissed him this time. A spiritual kind of healing you've been yearning for. It was all so needed, and when you found yourself on his lap it only amplified the fact. He grasped onto your waist tightly, his hands wandering up and down the smooth span of your back with every kiss your holy presence giften him. You are the light outrunning the darkness.

‘’Can I feel you?’’Stephen pleaded as his lips fell to your neck. ‘’Can I undress you?’’ Your skin was abuzz in anticipation and you nodded your head intensely.

‘’Use your words baby.’’ Stephen ordered softly as he lifted a finger to loosen the strap of your vest. Although what he really wanted was to rip your clothes off and fuck you beyond comprehension but tonight he wanted to go soft: reaffirming and gentle. It's what you needed: intimate and almost painstakingly slow.

‘’Yes. Please.’’Your voice was thinly veiled with quiet yet unmissable desperation- and he was more than willing to oblige.

‘’Are you sure?’’

‘’Just- go slow. For me.’’ You requested with a sigh.

His hands played with the hem of your shirt, teasing you slightly with the unforgettable touch of his deft fingers. Stephen aided you in getting your tank off and he revelled in the true feeling of your skin on his. He was like a moth to a flame the way your tits fell free. It was all for him to play with and you had all the time in the world. He kissed your collarbone and the skin surrounding it, your hands ruffled his hair and he knew you were barely clinging onto the sensation and he wanted to give you more. His kisses turned into bites and your collarbone turned into your nipples. You gasped and his mouth travelled to your lips to swallow your moan, your hands clamped against his face and pushed him back to just stare at his face and revel in the fact that this is actually happening.

You grasped his hand and remarked at it flirtatiously as if you were planning your next move. The smirk on your face said far too much.

‘’Now what do these fingers do?’’ You chuckled lowly, the pearly white of your teeth peaking through as you did so.

Stephen didn't respond, his only reaction was a venomous smile. One full of mischief.

His fingers found hospice on your heart and slowly and tortorously traced down between your ribs in a straight line. The way he was dragging this out was impossibly electric but anything less than gratifying.

Stephen's fingers dragged over your stomach and down to the spot that made you see fireworks. His gaze was venomous as his hands were in your shorts- feeling you up. Stephen's fingers were long and thick and he was impressed with how wet he had gotten you already. When he looked up at you, he saw you filled with bliss and yearning- a potent and heady combination. Stephen started moving his fingers in an out of you at a pace you deemed..interesting.

‘’Is this slow enough for you?’’ You didn't know if Stephen was mocking you or not. You grabbed his face and kissed the smirk off of his lips and if anything his lips curled into an even bigger smile.

He took this as incentive to lay you down on the couch, you didn't think vou could make it to the bedroom at the rate he was going.

Hovering over you, he looked deep into your eyes- searching for answers. Answers to what he wasn't sure but the way your pupils dialated and were black with hunger made him lose his mind- and with that you clawed his shirt off.

‘’I want you.' you stated. Although you were quite literally under him, the statement still took him by surprise due to how certain you sounded. More certain than anything, ever. He kissed you vehemently and began peeling your shorts and underwear off painfully slow.

‘’So beautiful.’’ Stephen remarked, the comment making you blush slightly.

He bent his head down and kissed at your lower stomach and you opened your legs allowing him to nestle between. He kissed at you everywhere, your favourite being your inner thigh- so close to where you wanted him, home. You couldn't handle it any longer.

‘’Come here.’’ You begged and brought his face up to your mouth where he could swallow your whines.

It all just felt like a well needed catharsis, as Stephen tugged his pants off your fingernails dug into his shoulder blades- the sting was inticing.

As he lowered himself into you, the stifled gasp and the knitted eyebrows did it in for him. The intense eye contact is what is dragging him in and he needed more. Stephen fawned over you and held himself up as he began to rut inside you- deeply. So fucking deep.

‘’Slow?’’

'Mhm…’’ You stifled.

‘’Intimate?'’

You moaned in response.

It was all deep strokes and intense eye contact, a magical soul binding thing. Missionary always seemed boring to you but this- this was soul astounding. Extraordinary. So renewing and sexy. Stephen cradled your face to continue staring into your beguiling eyes.

You needed healing and Stephen was the antidote.

You were lost in the pleasure- time was warped. It seemed like Stephen could go on forever, the Adonis of a man could last for days teasing you, edging you beyond comprehension; the fact that you were yearning for this for so long hindered your cognitive ability and your body was about to explode. Stephen was enjoying dragging it all out, you did ask him to go slow and he was extremely pleased he got you in such a state.

‘’So messy.’’ He reprimanded with a knowing crooked smile.

Your mouth slotted against his as a means to shut him up and with that you found your self to come undone, as he bit at your lower lip you lost control. Your gasp set Stephen's body alight, he swallowed it hungrily as his mouth devoured yours. He watched down and saw your mouth was agape and your face was tight, you were inhumanly stunning. Hair wild and untamed and eyes impossibly picturesque, you were made for him.

After the gruelling weeks, you needed this type of closure and healing. You gushed onto him and the sensation made him lose his mind too- he emptied himself out and he wished he could relive every second. The delightsome sighs that escaped both of your mouths was all your ears could register as clammy sweat coated foreheads met.

‘’That was…..intense and-‘’

‘’Helpful?’’ Stephen cut you off.

‘’Yeah.’’ You sighed bashfully like a smitten teenager.

‘’It's not your fault, it'll never be your fault, okay? I'll protect you, no matter the cost of it.’’ He reaffirmed and you swore you were going red the way your cheeks were blushing.

‘’No. Listen. I'll protect the both of us.’’ You counter offered.

‘’Don't make any promises you won't be able to keep.’’

‘’I'm not. I just can't lose you, I can't lose anyone else. Okay?’’ You gave him a soft chaste kiss to soothe his fraying nerves and static mind.

‘’Okay.’’ Stephen gave in finally.

‘’Can you stay for the night?’’

He didn't need to be asked.

‘’Of course. Tea?’’

You laughed. It's been a while since you laughed and Stephen pulled you from the teetering edge once again. You weren't sure if it was fate or destiny to be brought together like this- he was your best friend and now the possibilites with him are boundless.

Boundless like his love for you.

——-

[certifiedskywalker]

Trouble Doubled - Bucky Barnes

Even after everything, you’re still the person who Bucky Barnes runs to when things go bad. Only now, he brings Sam who fails to hide his grin when he sees how James melts under your touch.

WARNINGS: Blood, stitches, and TFATWS possible spoilers (I think I was vague enough)

“Ouch! That’s going to hurt in the morning!”

“Ha, it hurts now, actually,” Sam grumbled. 

You pressed your lips together to stifle the grin that threatened to spill over them. Unable to help yourself, you glanced at Bucky in the hopes he too was biting back a grin. Stood by the door, slightly shrouded in shadow, you could make out the half smile that played on his lips. Though, his expression quickly melted into a grimace as Sam groaned. Reality quickly crashed back down on your shoulders and you turned back to the man laid on the table.

“You’re not going to like this.” Before Sam could ask what ‘this’ was, you began to palpate his wound. He flinched away from your reach at first, but then settled in the discomfort.

“Mm, yeah, no, that doesn’t feel good, Doc.”

“Not a doctor,” you said, still pressing lightly into the bruised flesh. “And I have to make sure you didn’t crack a rib. Otherwise, you’ll need a doctor.”

“Gotta work on your bedside manner,” Sam said as he winced. You pulled your hands away with a sigh and he met your eyes. “Bad?”

“In the grand scheme of things, no. Just try not to throw yourself off a building for the next few days. Think you guys can manage that?”

“Maybe. Harder to fly without jumping first.” Sam groaned once more as he sat up and the pain seemed to convince him to heed your warning. “We’ll try, Doc.”

You rolled your eyes at him before turning to look at Bucky. Still tucked in the darker corner of the room, he seemed small. His brows were knitted tightly together by worry and you imagined that, if he met your gaze, you would see concern in his eyes. Pushed forward by your own worry, you strode over to him. At your growing closeness, Bucky lifted his eyes to yours.

“Your turn.”

“I’m fine, Y/N.”

Despite his protest, Bucky did not lock himself in place. Instead, he gave in and let you lead him by the arm, over to the table. Sam eyed him with a wide grin as Bucky landed in the same spot he had sat in only moments ago. He mouthed something to the century-old soldier that you caught, but could not make out.

“What happened to taking it easy? You told me after, you know, that you would ease into things.” You gestured to the rags you had used to clean Sam’s more minor wounds; the fabric pieces were now dyed a reddish pink from blood. “That doesn’t seem like easing into it.”

“You didn’t see the other guy,” Sam quipped. 

“I like to think you didn’t leave any of him left,” you fired back as you pinched Bucky’s chin between your forefinger and thumb. “Look at me.”

Bucky did as you told him to and met your gaze. You took a sharp breath in at the sight of him, at how his pupils blew out slightly as you studied his reaction. All at once, the air around you grew thick. This close, you could smell the sweat and ash on his skin, along with hints of whatever air freshener he had in his apartment. 

Was it coconut? Sandalwood? You couldn’t parse out which as you found yourself lost in the blues of Bucky’s eyes. The sound of Sam clearing his throat shook you from your haze.

“No signs of a concussion.”

“Really?” Sam asked, grin still plastered on his face. You raised a brow at him in question before you turned back to Bucky. 

“Why? Did you hit your head?”

“No,” he said, clearly tired of Sam’s commentary, “but if I did, it wouldn’t be a big deal.”

“Super soldier or not, a head wound is a head wound. Can you?” You gestured to his jacket and, with a sigh, Bucky pulled it off his shoulders.

“How do you two know each other again?” Sam asked, glancing around the room. “And why are we in an abandoned building.”

“Hard to trace us back here. Didn’t want to lead them to Y/N’s place,” Bucky said, tossing his jacket to the side. He winced as he did, and then you saw the blood.

“Barnes!" 

With reaching hands, you peeled back the crimson-soaked material of his shirt. Your movement revealed a long gash along his side that, with each breath, sent dribbles of blood to his hip. Sam made a sound of surprise and mild disgust at the sight. You were inclined to agree with another shout, but you were too caught up in how to stop the bleeding.

“Lay back,” you ordered, pressing Bucky’s shoulder. He yielded and you pushed his shirt up to expose the entire length of the wound. “Why didn't you show this to me earlier?!”

“It’s not that bad.”

"You're bleeding," you huffed, "which is pretty indicative of bad, if you ask me. Sam?"

"This is not my battle,” he raised his hands and shook his head. “I know better than to intrude on a lover’s quarrel.”

Neither you nor Bucky spoke up to correct him. In your mind, you came up with a quick excuse: Bucky was bleeding and you needed to focus on stopping it. Sam’s comment could be corrected later. Though, when Bucky didn’t speak up, you felt your chest tighten. As you worked on dressing the gash, you glanced up at him and found his blue eyes trained on you. He was dwelling on your silence too.

You pulled yourself out of the whirlpool of his gaze and reached over his body towards your medical supplies. As you stretched, your chest pressed lightly against Bucky’s, but you swallowed hard and refocused.

“Sorry, need to sow you up.”

Bucky didn’t respond, but he did avert his gaze. He found some spot in the ceiling to stare at instead of you. His distraction allowed you to work without the prickling temptation to sneak glances at his features; for the most part. It was only when Sam moved to stand over at your side you did you look up from Bucky’s wound.

“What?”

“Nothing, just wondering how many times you’ve done this before.” 

A bitter laugh slipped past your lips at his reply. “Too many times to count. If it’s not an Avenger, it’s a masked savior from Hell’s Kitchen. Someone always needs stitched up.”

“But James here is your favorite patient?”

“Sam.” 

Bucky’s tone set you on edge. It was warning, cold, and unlike the teasing you had grown fond of. Sam, knowing better than to piss him off, backed away from the table. You looked from him to Bucky and back again. When Bucky did not dare to meet your gaze, you felt a lump form in your throat. Tension weighed down your tongue, stopped you from saying a word or asking a question, despite your want to. 

“Alright, alright. I’ll leave you be, old man. I’ll check with Torres, see if he has anything.”

Bucky’s eyes remained fixed on the ceiling above you. He was quiet, like the first time you met, and distant. His gaze seemed far away, as if he were looking through the ceiling of this hideaway. After you heard the door of the room close behind Sam, you went back to work on Bucky’s side in silence. 

Carefully, you sowed the gash and tried to keep your hands steady. Every other jab with the needle made Bucky wince. You flinched at his sharp intake of breath and mumbled an apology before you went on to the next stitch. Five apologies later, the bleeding slowed and you gently pressed a crisp, white bandage to safeguard your handiwork. 

Immediately after you secured the gauze, Bucky moved to sit up. Before he could, you pressed on his shoulders again and pinned him in place. Though, you knew you couldn’t have pinned him if he hadn’t let you. Your upper body strength was nothing compared to his, you both knew that.

“Don’t move,” you said softly, “you’ll ruin my work.”

“It’s gonna be hard not to.” Bucky met your gaze and, in the dim light of the room, his eyes looked dark, almost sad. Something in his face, perhaps the dull, yet familiar laughter lines around his mouth or the bags under his eyes, alleviated the tension that had silenced before.

“You told me you wouldn’t. That you would take it easy and focus on making amends.”

Bucky closed his eyes at the disappoint that laced your tone. “I tried. I wanted to, Hell, I need to, but I can’t. I never could.”

“Why?”

“Because,” Bucky began to sit up from the table top, “I’m a soldier. I need the fight.”

You watched as he moved, as your hands slipped from his shoulders and fell back to your sides. He pulled his shirt down over his freshly bandaged wound. When he was covered, Bucky looked back up to you, saw your frown and frowned too.

“Soldiers get to come home,” you pointed out, arms crossed over your chest.

“If they’re lucky. I’ve never been lucky.”

You bit the inside of your cheek at that. He was right. Bucky told you his story once before, after a therapy session left him feeling a bit more dry than high. He told you that he couldn’t tell you everything, that he wouldn’t. He didn’t have to, but you still hoped for him.

“Luck can change.”

Bucky scoffed as he pushed himself to his feet. Now, at his full height, he towered slightly over you. Despite his looming figure, Bucky did not scare you. Even when he told you his story, what he had done, Bucky did not scare you. 

“Yeah, well, luck, or fate, or whatever, brought me to you and here we are,” he gestured to the dusty dwelling around you. You looked around with a careful eye before you playfully shrugged. 

“I’ve been in worse dives.” Bucky chuckled, a unforced sound that rose up from his chest against his will. “Really, I have.”

“I don’t doubt it. But we put you in danger, asking for your help here. I put you in danger.”

“Oh, are you serious?” You threw your hands up in the air, “there’s always going to be danger in this world. Aliens, war, bad luck.”

“I wanted to keep you safe,” he pressed, taking a step towards you. 

You could smell the perfume of the air freshener again, how it clung to his clothes. It distracted you, threw you into thoughts of what his apartment looked like, if he would ever share that part of him with you or if he would keep it locked away with his full story. You bit your tongue to keep yourself from asking, from wasting your breath on a question he wouldn’t answer. His words would have to be enough for you and, as if on cue, Bucky echoed his sentiment. 

“I wanted to keep you safe.”

“How noble, wanting to keep me safe, Barnes. Just me?” 

Silence was your immediate answer. Silence and Bucky’s full attention. You didn’t miss how his eyes flickered down from yours to your lips then back again.

“Just you.”

In the quiet that followed Bucky’s statement, you became frighteningly aware of your heartbeat again. It wasn’t pounding like before, but it felt loud, like it was pressing against your ribcage, begging to leap out and into Bucky’s arms. As if propelled by it, you found yourself leaning in towards his warmth just as he seemed to shrink away.

Before he was out of reach, you lifted your hands to his face and cupped his jaw. Stubble prickled your fingers and palm, though you were far too enraptured to care.

“Then stay alive,” you said softly, “change your luck and come home.”

In your mind, you did not picture Bucky’s home as his mystery apartment. Instead, you saw only this moment captured by some invisible third party. You saw home as just the two of you and the image made you heart beat a bit faster. 

“I’ll try.”

“Good.” 

For a moment, the two of you just stared at each other, stewed in the new, easier tension between you. But then your resolve broke and you lips broke into a smile. Bucky mirrored your expression, a lopsided grin resting comfortably along his features. His eyes fell to the floor between you before he looked back into your face.

“Can...can I kiss y-”

“Yes, Barnes, please.”

Without wasting another second, Bucky leaned down and pressed his lips to yours. Your hands slipped from his jaw to the back of his head where your fingers tangled in the soft strands of his brown hair. One of his hands found your waist and pulled you close to him, while the other cupped your jaw. In sync, his mouth moved against yours and everything around you melted away.

No more wonderings or mystery. It was only you and Bucky, come danger, trouble, or bad luck; and Sam who lingered outside the door.

[idy-ll-ique]

Touch.

Pairing: Mob Boss!Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

Genre: Angst, Fluff

Warnings: age gap, mentions of blood, graphic descriptions of violence, death

Requested: nope

Summary: "touch her and I'll kill you" but Bucky is a man of his words.

Author's Note: Hiya peeps! Okay, so regarding the ending; there's two ways to look at it. 1) soft-dark!mob!bucky or 2) arranged marriage au with a twist. you can decide that for yourself. enjoy!

---

"Appreciate it, Marvin, but really, I'll be okay," Y/N assured her coworker, giving his arm a gentle squeeze. The single dad of 2 still looked unsure. "Y/N, it's very late, please…" She continued shaking her head. "Please. My house isn't that far," she tried and he gave up. "If you say so. Let me at least walk you to the gates." She allowed him to do that.

They chatted as they walked. "How are Eva and Evan?" she grinned at him. Marvin smiled bashfully, rubbing the back of his neck. "Eva said her first word yesterday," Marvin admitted and Y/N squealed. "Ooh, what was it?!" she asked excitedly. "It was their nanny's name, actually." She smirked at the way he turned pink.

Y/N had met his kids' nanny once; she was a beautiful woman and Y/N knew Marvin had a crush on her. Her name was… Nicole, if she wasn't mistaken. "Really? That's another reason why you should ask that woman out." Marvin jokingly shoved Y/N and she laughed harder as they stood near the gates. "See you tomorrow!"

"Bye!" Y/N waved and started walking down the dimly lit street, humming under her breath. Thinking back to her chat with Marvin, a smile bloomed on her face and she chuckled to herself, shaking her head. "Oh, Marvin, you idiot," she snorted under her breath, freezing when she heard footsteps behind her. "Hi there." Slowly turning around, she saw a man.

Instinctively she took a step back; he was a bad man, he gave those vibes. "No," she said flatly and turned to leave, pausing out of fear when he harshly grabbed her arm. He spun her around and his eyes widened when they landed on her face. "Y/L/N's daughter, aren't ya, ya pretty thing," he hissed in her face and she winced.

"Let me go."

"Now that's one thing I can't do, my dear," he sighed dramatically and Y/N forced a glare on her face despite being shaken to the core. Truth was, her father ran a mob. They dealt with arms and weaponry and since Y/N had a soft soul, she had rejected her father's decision of her taking over the mob after him. He respected that, was relieved, even; he didn't want to put his daughter in danger.

Her father had a friend, young (and very good-looking, she had to admit). His name was Bucky Barnes, and he ran his own mob. His mob was bigger and more famous than her father's, he practically owned a sixth of the city. She had heard talks of her father handing his mob over to Bucky after his retirement a few years down the lane.

"Let me go," she repeated, trying to keep her voice as steady as possible as she blinked back tears. "Come on angel, I'll make it worth your time. It's been a long time since I've been with a pretty girl like you," he crooned and Y/N scrunched her nose, the action earning her a sharp slap on the cheek from the man. She cried out in pain.

Then she managed to wrench her arm away from his grip, moving to run away but this time he grabbed her waist, forcing her to elbow him in the gut. He pulled away again and she turned, placing a firm slap on his cheek as she seethed, daring him to put his hands on her again. He did, circling an arm around her shoulder as he pulled her in. She leaned forward and bit his arm. He hissed.

"You bitch!"

"Let go!" she screamed this time and he slapped her again, clamping a hand over her mouth. "I'm going to fuck the brat out of you," he whispered dangerously and Y/N's eyes watered as she tried to get away from him. A third slap, this time his ring cut her cheek. A drop of blood trickled down her soft skin and the man hummed appreciatively.

"Wh-What's your name?"

He stopped and considered her for a minute. "Rumlow," he answered simply and she started wiggling in his grip again. "Stop that!" he screamed and threw a punch at her face, hitting her square in the jaw. A fight broke out; Y/N hit him back by slapping him on the cheek again and Rumlow proceeded to choke her. Her vision going hazy she gasped and kicked him.

Straight in the crotch.

Rumlow's hands left her body as he bent forward, cupping his crotch in pain. Finding new strength, she pushed him and with nothing to ground him he fell, giving Y/N enough time to escape as she ran away, glad that she had decided to wear sneakers that day. There was only one thing on her mind; her home, which she shared with her parents.

I just want to sleep.

Coughing at times, she reached home 15 minutes later and opened the door, thinking that her parents would be asleep by then. Her watch said it was 12:30 am. Unfortunately, as she threw open the front door, she froze again for in the doorway stood her parents and in front of them, Bucky. He was holding his jacket, signalling that was about to leave.

He turned to look at her and his eyes immediately took in all the bruises that had formed on her face, as well as her clothes which were askew and the handprint of someone gripping her arm. "Y/N!" her mother exclaimed worriedly, almost fainting at the sight of her daughter looking so beaten up. Y/N's eyes snapped towards Bucky when he spoke.

"Come with me."

Without questioning his authority Y/N followed Bucky up the stairs and into the study. The moment the doors closed behind them he took her face in his hands, examining the bruises. The noise of her parents making their way upstairs stilled him for a moment but they simply walked past the study towards what he concluded was the master bedroom.

Bucky had also liked Y/N for a long time. Her parents had introduced her to him when she was 20; he was much older than her but towards the end of the day, when his friend had asked, "What do you think about my daughter?" he couldn't bring himself to lie. And surprisingly, her father was ecstatic at the idea of Bucky dating his daughter.

Well, at least he had her parents' approval.

The moment the door to the master bedroom closed, Bucky's hands resumed their motions. Y/N stood as still as possible despite being in a lot of pain, not wanting to ruin the sudden, personal moment that they were having. He had always been civil with her; never talking to her as more than a friend, never touching her for long but oh, today was much different.

Bucky carefully lifted her jaw, noticing the way she unintentionally flinched when his fingers came in contact with her chin. A broken jaw. She was also bleeding from the cheek and a trail of blood went down the corner of her lips. Barely being able to contain his anger he swiped the blood away, causing Y/N to shudder.

Tears pooled in her eyes as her skin started itching and aching. His hand left her face and gently curled around her arm, lifting it so he could get a better look at the handprint. Not one word was spoken during the entire exchange as Bucky took note of all her injuries. She suddenly lifted her hand to wipe her tears and tilted her head further up, exposing her neck.

Bucky took in a sharp intake of breath. Her neck was covered in deep purple, red and blue bruises. Someone tried to choke her. He wasn't able to contain his anger anymore but he tried his best as he finally looked Y/N in her eyes. She stared back at him, whimpering. "Who did this?" The words came out a hiss. "B-Buck…" she choked out.

"Y/N?" he whispered, bringing her hand to his lips. The intensity of the situation hit her then; Bucky liked her. Momentary happiness washed over her but there were more important things to care about. "Bucky," she breathed and leaned forward, pressing herself closer to him, wrapping her arms around his torso.

One of his hands cradled her head, discreetly checking for injuries there as his other arm went around her waist. "I need a name, sweetheart," he hummed quietly, too quietly. "R-R—" she stammered but stopped as her wounds unknowingly caught on fire at the letter. "Rumlow?" Bucky blurted out.

He didn't think that was the name she'd take but Y/N pulled away from him with a look of disbelief on her face, causing his worst fears to come true. Rumlow got to you. Fuck, that bastard was dying today. "It was him?!" Bucky gasped and Y/N nodded. "How did you know?" she croaked out, wincing when pain shot through her throat.

"We— We've got a pretty famous rivalry going on, sweetheart, surprised you didn't know that."

"Sorry, don't keep up with mob news."

He chuckled for a moment before sobering up; straightening his shoulders as a dark look crossed his face. "I have to go now, you take care of yourself, okay?" He moved to leave when Y/N pressed a hand to his chest, stopping him. She leaned on her tiptoes and gave him a quick kiss on his cheek, the action causing butterflies to flutter in his stomach.

He gently turned her head and pressed his lips to hers in a chaste kiss. "I'll visit tomorrow," he whispered and she nodded, a smile forming on her lips. "I'd like that very much." With a smile of his own he kissed her forehead and they both left the study, making their way downstairs. Bucky left the house and Y/N turned to see her mother standing at the top of the stairs.

"Your daddy has called the doctor, dear, he'll be here in 15 minutes."

"Okay, ma."

---

"Rumlow, you motherfucker!" Bucky roared as he stormed into the bar where he was sure his rival was. Behind him walked in his right-hand men Sam Wilson and Steve Rogers, followed by 15 of his men. Rumlow looked up from his corner, his eyes going wide at the furious look on Bucky's face. While he had seen the look a thousand times, something was different tonight.

Bucky spotted him and strode forward, easily pushing aside the men who came to their boss' defence. Rumlow gasped when Bucky grabbed him by the throat and smashed his skull against the table, eliciting a hiss and a low groan from the man. "You fucking dare—" Bucky began as he lifted him up, only to punch him square in the jaw like he had Y/N.

"You fucking dare put your hands on her!" Bucky shouted but Rumlow's head was spinning after he'd hit the table. For the first time, he realized, he was afraid. Of Barnes. In the background, Bucky's men, outnumbering Rumlow's men, fought. "You hurt her and now you're going to pay!" Lifting an empty bottle of vodka off the table with his free hand, Bucky smashed it on Rumlow's head.

Pieces of it got stuck in his scalp as Rumlow fell unconscious. All Bucky saw was red. He couldn't physically bear the thought of someone hurting his girl and being true to his words… "I promised her father," Bucky breathed out as he threw more punches at Rumlow's dying body, "No one was going to hurt her."

Another punch to the face. "I told him, anybody who touches her dies," Bucky hissed, "And yet you dare— I'm a man true to my words," Bucky promised in a sinister tone, knowing that he was talking to himself since Rumlow was long gone. His hand closed around Rumlow's neck. "You touch her—" He squeezed, "You die."

And Rumlow's dead body slumped on the floor.

The fight around him stopped instantly.

"We're done here."

---

"Princess?" Groaning softly, Y/N turned away from the voice and pulled the covers tighter around herself. "Away," she mumbled and heard a soft feminine laugh as well as two manly chuckles behind her. "You've been asleep a long time, baby," a familiar voice whispered, placing a hand on her arm. Her eyes flew open and she looked up, straight at Bucky.

"Oh my God!" Jumping up, she threw her arms around the man and buried her face in the crook of his neck, causing him to laugh. Smiling at each other, her parents left the room, leaving the two lovebirds alone. They were sure Bucky could handle breaking the news to her by himself. "Good morning," he greeted as he sat down, pulling her on his lap.

"Do you really like me?" she whispered, realizing that they had not made it explicitly clear last night. "Of course I do, princess. You're mine," he spoke in a possessive tone. "I'm yours," she agreed as she burrowed closer to him. "And no one touches what's mine and gets out alive." Y/N took a few moments to register those words.

When she did, she pulled away from him, still straddling his lap as she stared at him, jaw dropped. "You…" He nodded and Y/N's eyes went wide. Though he was delivering the news of someone's death, Y/N couldn't bring herself to feel bad. He had attacked her, he got what he deserved. "I— I don't know what to say."

"You don't have to say anything, I just wanted to tell you what I did. We can talk about something else," he offered and a smile immediately bloomed on her face. "How long have you liked me?" He laughed before cupping her face, pulling her down to press his lips to hers. "Ever since I met you 5 years ago, doll, I was smitten." Y/N gasped against his lips.

"Ever since you met me?! Me too!"

"Really?" He grinned broadly at the look of excitement on her face. My sweet angel. "Really! I— I think I might… I think I might love you but it's too early on—" she stammered but Bucky took her hands, tears starting to glisten in his eyes at her words. She loves me. "Princess, I love you too," he admitted and she paused.

"Bucky, I love you!" she smiled hugely and hugged him tightly. Bucky quietly wiped his tears off, pressing a soft kiss to her neck. He could see the bruises fading away and that calmed his heart. She's safe with me. And I'm never letting her go. "So, there's some news…" he continued and she pulled away, a curious look on her face.

"What is that?"

"Your father is retiring. I'm gonna take over the mob now." Y/N squealed and clapped her hands; she knew her father made a great decision. Bucky was more than competent. "Congratulations!" she shouted and jumped out of his arms, running out of the room to wish her father the same. Bucky chuckled as he stayed there for a moment more, running his hand through his hair.

"Can't wait to make you my wife, baby."

---

A/N: Three Bucky fics in a row 👀 leave a like if you enjoyed, thanks for reading! I really appreciate it (and thanks for 430 followers lol I love every single one of you)

[cloudraker]

Can I get a Valentines Day request with Nightbeat? With the 💌 promt?

Happy Valentines day! Here's your request <3

Anonymous Request

Under the cut :)

Reading the note over yet again, you were beyond puzzled. The note had been straightforward enough, simply instructing you to “go to where we first met,” which wasn’t the problem. The problem was that it hadn’t been signed and you had absolutely no clue where you were supposed to go. The handwriting didn’t look familiar at all, because it hadn’t been written at all and was printed onto a sheet of standard printer paper. 

‘Where do you even get a printer in space?’ A good question for another time you decided, tucking the piece of paper into your back pocket. ‘Who would even have a printer in spa- Magnus.’ While it fit the bill of having access to office equipment, a note didn’t exactly seem like something he would do(too many variables), and thus was removed from the list of suspects as quickly as he had been added. Left with as many leads as you had started with, you decided to make your way to Swerve’s, hoping somebody there could help.

The trek to the bar was uneventful, and soon you arrived at your destination. Ten was at the door as he usually was, rumbling out a “ten!” in greeting as he stepped aside to let you in. Swerve, as the name of the bar would suggest, was behind the counter wiping out a glass. Rodimus and Drift were at the bar, chatting amongst themselves between sips of brightly colored drinks.

The red minibot was the first to spot you, excitedly waving you over and placing the glass he had been cleaning under the bar. Pausing their conversation to see what had garnered the bartenders attention, the other two raised their drinks in greeting as they saw you approach. 

Leaning over the bar, Swerve started speaking before you even got the chance to open your mouth. “(Y/n)! Welcome, welcome! What can I get started for ya?” His grin was infectious, and you couldn’t help the smile that tugged at your face. 

“Not here for a drink, I’m afraid.” Swerve deflated at that, disappointed at the loss of a patron. “I’m here on business I’m afraid.”

That caught the attention of the other two at the bar, pausing their conversation as Rodimus spun around in his seat to face you. “Did Magnus send you?” He squinted down at your form, lips pursed. “Cause I signed all the forms he sent me.”

“What? No. Why would Magnus send me after you?”

 Rodimus shrugged at your response, turning back to his drink. “Can never be too sure.”

“Maybe if you actually did your work you wouldn’t be worried about that,” Drift stage whispered, snickering at the indignant squawk that came from his friend. The two quickly devolved back into senseless squabbling, Rodimus doing most of the talking this time around.

Swerve took their distraction to jump back in, head tilted in question. “What kinda business are you here on, if it’s not for Magnus?”

Fishing the note out of your pocket, you held it up so the ‘bot could see. “Somebody left this at my door telling me to ‘go to where we first met,’ except they didn’t sign it.”

Swerve snorted, lowering his head onto the bar as his shoulders shook. Rodimus choked on his drink, spluttering as he struggled to clear his intake. Drift simply sighed and shook his head.

“What? What happened, is he okay?” You directed the question towards the still coughing captain, who waved a hand in your direction.

“Just fine,” he wheezed, decidedly not fine. “Oh Primus, he forgot to sign the note!” And he was back to coughing again between his peals of laughter, Drift patting him on the back despite the amused smirk on his face.

“I’m not following,” you stated, stepping back from the bar. “Do you know who wrote this?”

Drift, taking pity on you, leaned over the wheezing form of his friend to address you directly. “Head down to the oil reservoir, you might find something down there,” punctuating the end of the sentence with a knowing smile. 

Nodding your head, you quickly  made your way back out of the bar, the echo of laughter that quickly devolved into another coughing fit following you as you went. Despite the size of the ship, you knew the way to the reservoir from Swerve’s well enough, making a few turns before you came upon the intended door. 

Raising your hand to open it, you paused upon hearing the clanging of metal and muffled curses from inside. Fearing somebody might have gotten hurt inside, you flung open the door to the oil reservoir and rushed in, only to be greeted by the sight of Nightbeat clutching his foot, a box on its side lay on the ground next to him.

“Are you uh- are you okay?” You questioned, taking a few steps forward as the door slammed shut behind you.

The blue bot in question yelped, dropping his foot and spinning around, mouth agape. “YOU-” he paused to collect himself, clearing his intake and straightening his back. “you’re here. Already. You got here quickly, much quicker than I thought.” 

Eyeing the forgotten box on the ground, you nodded. “Yeah, Drift told me to come down here when I asked about this note somebody left outside my room.” You waved said note to prove your point. “I mean, the instructions were simple enough but it wasn’t signed so I didn’t really know where to go.”

Nightbeat froze, brow furrowed. “Wasn’t signe-” he threw his head into his palms and groaned upon realization. “The note wasn’t signed.” It came out as barely a whisper.

“Did you have something to do with this?” Folding the paper back up as neatly as you could yet again, you stepped closer, shoes echoing in the expansive space that was the reservoir.

“Yeah, yeah I set it up.” He ran a hand down his face, faceplates flushed. “I had a whole paper trailed planned out and everything, and at the end you were supposed to come here and I’d have everything all set up.”

Seeing as how everything was decidedly not set up, you were left with more questions. “What were you even trying to set up? It’s not a holiday, is it?” You really hoped you hadn’t missed a holiday.

Avoiding eye contact the best he could, Nightbeat decided to direct his gaze to the forgotten box of supplies at his feet. “I was going to ask you out on a date for Valentines Day. It’s supposed to be today on Earth so...” He trailed off, uncharacteristically quiet. 

Ah. Right. Valentine’s Day was today. Cheeks suddenly flushed, you swallowed the nervous lump that had made itself known in your throat. “Well, what’s stopping you?”

Nightbeats head shot up, visor trained on your form. “Huh?” He said dumbly.

“What’s stopping you,” you repeated. “I’m assuming you’ve got all the supplies here to set something up, so let’s do it.”

Taking your words into consideration, a grin slowly spread across his yellow face, mouth crinkling at the corners. Nodding, he bent down to pick up the box of supplies, pausing to smile directly at you. 

Following him as he made his way towards the platform stretching over the oil pool, you couldn’t help the excited flutter your heart did with every step you took.

[rywritten]

(please read this in a very dramatic voice)

i am here once again to request something. because i see nothing, i see no one requesting stuff to a very very fantastic author that is you.

anyway, back to normal because that was a bit... eh. so uh, i'm giving you another song! well, actually it's two songs but you can choose one or do two of them, doesn't really matter (ALL I NEED IS SOMETHING BECAUSE I AM STARVING)

the songs are give me your forever by zack tabudlo (this song is good for friends to lovers *wiggle eyebrows*) and the world could end with you by llunr (good for... you know, a romance that happened when the world is ending *wiggle eyebrows again*)

it doesn't really have to be a song fic, it can be a fanfic that is inspired by one song! (or maybe two...?) the pairing is your choice! whatever works the best for you. i just really need anything right now ;-; would you please be very kind to a starving person like me?

i feel like you flatter me too much mimi ;; thank you for the lovely message and im happy to know you're enjoying my writing!!

as a side note: since you've offered two songs, im more inclined to write the second one (mostly cause the lyrics reminds me of matt maltese's song: as the world caves in) and im a huge sucker for tropes that focuses on the conflicting feeling of grief and regret as you spend the final moment of your life with the object of your affection while the world is ending)

so yeah, let me get right to the drabble:

The moon glows an ominous crimson high up in the dark sky. Another earthquake had passed, shaking buildings and houses alike. Outside of Dream's apartment, Techno could hear the distant sound of car horns blaring and the muffled screaming of dying men.

The reporter's voice on the radio sounded like static as he provided an estimated time of the world’s inevitable demise. It was only a matter of minutes at this point and Techno decided to switch the station to something else. He flips through a few more until he settles to one that was playing a soft classical melody. The gentle piano playing was accompanied by the melancholic tune of a violin and Techno couldn't help but feel like the song was quite fitting for their current predicament.

"Do you ever regret choosing me?" The question came out of Techno's lips without his permission. It's too late for him to take it back when he saw the way Dream's eyes widened and heard his sharp intake of breath.

"What do you mean, Techno?"

He doesn't answer right away, unsure of how to explain such a question. There were a hundred questions Techno wanted to ask Dream, questions such as why he decided to spend his final moments with Techno instead of anyone else, why he's never complained about their situation, and why he decided to ask Techno to stay with him. But vulnerability was never something he was accustomed to, even now as he sat side by side with the only person he's ever grown to love.

Techno knows that it's love. No other emotion could ever compare to the feeling of free falling from a single smile from the blond or the heart stopping moment of Dream calling out to him in that gentle voice of his.

While the stars began to fall from the sky, and the floor started to shake from another earthquake, Techno decided to pay them no mind as the song continues. 

"Do you regret spending the remaining hours of your life with me?" He clarified, finally mustering up enough courage to meet Dream's gaze with his own.

"I'll always choose you." Dream says in a heartbeat, serious and unwavering. His green eyes are bright, fierce, and so full of something Techno refuses to call love because hope is a dangerous thing for him to have. And yet at this very moment, as the sky is alight with falling meteors all aiming to land on the very earth where they stood, Techno couldn't help the small bud of hope from forming inside his chest.

"Whatever happens," Techno starts to say, no longer looking at the sky as he grabs onto Dream's hand, trying his best to convey everything he wants to say in his next sentence. "I love you, until the day I die and afterwards."

Dream places one shaky hand on his face and guides him close until their noses brush and their lips are mere inches apart. Techno wants to kiss him, then. He wants to wrap his arms around him and never let Dream go, but he waits instead. He waits until Dream is ready to say what's on his mind.

"Even if the the world ends, it's you." Dream whispers, a promise for only Techno to hear. "It'll always be you, and no one else."

"Can I kiss you?"

Techno's question is met by soft lips and the taste of heartbreak. There are tears falling down Dream's cheeks that Techno wipes away as gently as he could, refusing to accept their reality for what it is.

"Promise me." Dream asked right after the kiss, memorizing Techno's face as much as he could.

"What?"

"That you don't regret choosing me either."

"I promise."

And it was Dream's radiant smile that Techno remembers seeing last before the buildings collapsed and the earth shattered. The world was ending not with a bang, but with the sound of Dream's quiet admittance and a promise worth keeping a hundred lifetimes over.

[spectaclespencer]

P.H. // Part 1; Alone

Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

A/N; Here’s the first chapter! Let me know what you think <3 this is based off of this request I got. Any and all feedback is appreciated. Please know I know this theme/part has little to nothing to do with the actual meaning of the song, but some lines work if you ignore the rest 😅

Summary; After Gideon leaves, Reader takes up chess to comfort Spencer through the difficult time.

Category; Fluff, Angst(?), Hurt/Comfort

Content Warnings; Sad Spencer otherwise none!

Word Count; 3.5k

Masterlist | Series Masterlist | Next

It started when I found Spencer one morning. He had fallen asleep on a chair at the bau, and he explained to me that he’d been waiting for Gideon because he promised to play chess with Spencer that night.

“Is Hotch in yet?”

“No, he will be soon. We have a case, JJ is gonna brief us and we leave in 30.”

He thanked me and left the room, with his head down. He kept the same mood during the briefing, he kept drifting off as JJ was talking. Spencer was known to be stuck in his head often, but this was far more unusual behaviour. I figured maybe he slept wrong, or maybe just was simply looking forward to playing chess with Gideon. That was their usual routine, to have a game or two after cases to relax. It was understandable to see him on edge after not hearing from him all night.

As we got on the jet he didn’t sit with me on the couch right away as he usually did, instead he walked over to Hotch in the back corner. I craned my neck to try and see what he was doing and hear what he was saying. He spoke in soft whispers, seemingly asking questions I assumed were about Gideon’s presence. I saw Hotch shake his head, to which Spencer’s expression dropped. He thanked him, then made his way over to the couch beside me.

“You okay?” I asked.

He gave me a quick nod -- yet didn’t meet my eyes -- then curled up at the end of the couch to presumably take a nap before we landed.

We were all worried about Gideon, none of us had heard from him since the last case. We figured he just needed a break from the chaos; having a loved one die would take a toll on any of us. It was logical really, any one of the team would need time to recover when presented with that situation.

Spencer remained more quiet throughout the case, not engaging in conversation when it wasn’t crucial to the work. We ended up sharing rooms but even then he didn’t budge. He mostly sat in the corner and played chess against himself, often zoning out and staring at the wall. It was hard to see, and even harder to sit back and let him try to get through it. I could tell he was fighting himself in his head, probably going over scenarios on Gideon’s whereabouts. I imagine the stress was affecting him heavily -- or at least it was clear with the way his forehead had been creased all night.

Chess. Nobody on the team had a fair shot at him besides Gideon. Sitting there staring at the pieces probably wasn’t doing him too good, only making him worry more.

It wasn’t that I didn’t care because I did, but when it comes to certain things Spencer can be defensive and refuse help, so I wanted to give him a chance to get better. It wasn’t unlike him to refuse help, and I didn’t want to make the situation worse by opening my mouth. Instead, I opted to ask, “Mind if I join in for a game?”

“What? Uh- no it’s fine. I mean, okay yes. Sure,” Spencer stuttered, spooked by my sudden appearance beside him.

“Stop slouching, you’re gonna make your posture even worse,” I chuckled lightly, patting his shoulder to remind him. He shot me a small smile, watching as I rounded the table to sit across from him. I wasn’t too good of a player, but I wanted to make Spencer feel just a little less alone.

“Do you even know how to play?”

“Ouch,” I mocked offense, slapping a hand over my heart. “So cruel, Spencer.”

He raised his eyebrows in a form of asking again, to which I replied with, “Kind of. I haven’t played for years but I’ve observed you.”

“Y-you’ve observed me?” Spencer questioned, resetting the chess pieces on the board.

“Well, yeah. Kind of hard not to. You’re a pretty interesting guy.”

“Oh. Thank you.”

I smiled when he finally made eye contact with me. He looked tired -- more so than usual -- with his eyebags a deeper shade than they were normally.

The game didn’t last long. In only seven minutes, he managed to beat me. I groaned at my loss, lips pulled into a tight line. Spencer didn’t react, however.

“Okay that’s enough for me,” I said, heading over to the bathroom to brush my teeth before bed. “Goodnight Spence. Get some sleep. No offense but you look like you need it.”

He hummed at me, cleaning up the table before he climbed into his own bed.

I could tell he didn’t sleep much that night, as he kept a lamp on and littered his bed with various books. He looked cute, all swaddled up in the blanket he brings with him on every case for a sense of stability. His glasses were perched on his nose, and he was chewing his fingernails -- a habit I’ve tried to get him to kick over the past two years.

We didn’t talk during the night, but we both knew that each other were awake. I was kept up by my thoughts, trying to figure out how to get Spencer out of his slump. Re-learning how to play chess seemed like a decent enough idea -- yet one that would take some time. I was proved tonight that my skill needed to be greatly improved. It was nice in the moment, but realistically it would take a few weeks, if not more, to get the hang of.

The next day at the precinct I was stationed at the map, trying to figure out our geographical profile. I heard faint chattering coming from outside, and looked over my shoulder to see Spencer and Derek talking. I couldn’t hear much, but I did get that Spencer mumbled about calling Gideon, to which Derek answered that he might’ve just missed the call. It was possible, but likely deeper than that.

“Six times? Six calls? Something’s wrong,” Spencer sighed, rubbing his eyes.

I didn’t intervene with the conversation, instead deciding to finally speak to him about it after the case had ended.

On the last day, we all headed to our rooms after grabbing some dinner, to get a good rest before we took off early the next morning.

“Hey Spence, you awake?”

He hummed in response, and I could hear the rustle of the sheets as he rolled over in his bed to face me.

“I know you’re worried about Gideon. How about when we get back tomorrow I’ll drive you down to his cabin? We can go check on him.

“Would you really?” he asked softly. I couldn’t see him fully in the darkness, but I could sense he was looking at me with pleading eyes.

“Of course. I don’t like seeing you this stressed and down. I want to help.”

“Thanks ____, goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Spencer.”

After our conversation it was like a blanket of grey was lifted over his head. He settled in more, drifting off to sleep within minutes. I hated seeing him sad, and I did my best to try and fix his mood whenever I could. Spencer didn’t like change, I knew that, and the team knows that. A part of me had a sneaking suspicion that Gideon wasn’t coming back, and I had fear for what that would mean for Spencer.

-----

“Do you want me to come in with you?” I asked, pulling up in front of the cabin and turning off the engine. The only sounds were the faint hum of rain outside, splattering against the windows.

Spencer shook his head and took a deep breath, before unbuckling himself and opening his door. He mumbled something about being right back, as he headed off towards the building. It wasn’t dark yet -- only being four pm -- but it wasn’t too light either.

It looked as if the lights inside the cabin were off, and I could just hardly see Spencer as he knocked on the door. He waited on the porch for a moment, waiting to see if anyone would come to the door.

Nobody did.

It was hard to just sit there and watch, as his desperation grew stronger by the millisecond.

-----

I took deep breaths, trying to even out my intake of air and remain calm. When nobody answered the fifth time that I knocked, I reluctantly grabbed a hold of the knob and turned it. Much to my surprise the door opened, creaking inch by inch as I stood there unmoving.

“Gideon?” I called into the home, taking one step inside. “Jason?”

I wasn’t greeted with an answer, he didn’t come to the door and thank me for coming to visit. It was eerily quiet -- so quiet I took a few more steps inside to create some sort of volume.

“Hello?” I spoke again, louder this time. Shutting the door behind me I took off my jacket and hung it on the coat rack next to the entrance.

The place had been mainly cleared out, there weren’t many personal items behind. I stalked over to the kitchen, to see if there was any trace of someone within the last few days. It’s been officially a week and a half since anyone had last heard from him that I was aware of. I thought someone must have eaten, or at least left a bit of a mess behind them that would signal a presence.

As I turned the corner to enter the new room I noticed something on the table. I stopped in my tracks, leaning down to take a closer look.

Gideon’s badge, gun, and an envelope.

I swallowed thickly, walking around the table and took a seat in front of the items. When I saw the envelope had my name on it, my heart dropped. With shaky hands I picked up the paper and opened it, seeing there was a letter inside.

Spencer,

I knew it would be you who came to the cabin to check on me.

You must be frightened, I apologize for that. I never meant to cause you any pain. But then I also never envisioned writing this letter. I’ve searched for a satisfactory explanation for what I’m doing, all I’ve come up with is: a profiler needs to have solid footing. I- I don’t think I do anymore. The world confuses me. The cruelty, indifference, tragedy.

I stopped there, my eyesight becoming blurry from tears. I shoved the letter in my pocket, not caring at the moment if it got crumpled or not.

I was out of the cabin in no time -- choosing not to stay there and sulk in a deeper sadness.

-----

Waiting in the car for Spencer felt like torture. It was difficult, letting him go in there alone to be met with possibly no answers. I was thrown out of my thoughts by the sound of the cabin door slamming shut, Spencer jogging over to the car.

“Hey. Hey, what’s wrong?” I asked, red flags hanging immediately as he climbed in the car, tear soaked face pointed down towards his lap. It took me a moment to realize he was crying -- the rain had completely soaked through his top layer of clothes. He didn’t reply with words, instead reaching into his pants pocket to retrieve a piece of paper. He handed it over to me, still not meeting my eyes.

I unfolded it and began to read -- it was hard, through the tear stains smudging the ink across the page.

“Oh, Spence…” I whispered and stopped after the first few sentences, leaving the rest for him. I didn’t know what to say, how to comfort him.

“He’s gone,” Spencer sniffled, wiping his eyes on the sleeves of his nearly drenched jacket. “He just left. He didn’t say goodbye. He left me a note,” he froze, taking a few deep breaths. “Just like my dad did when I was a kid.”

“It’ll be okay. Wherever he is, I’m sure he’s okay,” I assured him. “You know he cares about you, right?”

“I know he is. It’s just-” he started, trying to find the right words between his gasping for more air. “Can you just take me home, please.”

I nodded, while turning the car back on to drive away. Spencer kept his gaze towards the window, refusing to let me see his face. I’m selfishly almost glad for it, because I don’t know if seeing his heartbreak is something I could handle.

It was a long, quiet drive, taking around an hour and a half to finally reach his apartment. He scrambled out of the car fast, but I still walked him up as I usually did. He got to the door before me, thanking me for driving him home. He shut the door just as I got fully up the stairs, leaving me standing with my mouth open.

‘Baby, when you fought me at the door

Kinda hard to force what's natural

Maybe you don't want what you need most’

-----

The next day when he came over after work he was almost back to normal. It was weird to see, to see such a shift in his behaviour after less than twenty-four hours. As much as he tried to hide it, I could tell just how hard it was for him. The sudden change didn’t go well with anyone, we’d all been informed that Gideon wouldn’t be returning and that he’d moved on from the BAU. It was especially hard on Spencer too, since Elle had just left not too long ago, and then Emily joined the team. First he loses a friend, someone who truly understood him as I did, and then someone he considered a father figure.

And neither of them had said goodbye to his face. It was scary, knowing a member of your team could walk out and never return before you know it.

We were seated on the couch, a game of chess displayed on the middle cushion between us.

It wasn’t anywhere near a fair game -- Spencer’s skills were still far ahead of mine. However I noticed it made him smile, and that’s all I wanted. For him to feel loved, and secured. It was a sense of grounding, a routine that was regular in his life. I still wasn’t very good -- not having played since high school and that night on the last case. But I downloaded an audiobook and several player’s guides for the plane ride home to study, because I wanted to learn for Spencer’s sake. However I soon realized it was easier to watch Spencer and how he plays, and to ask him questions. He seemed to enjoy it, having someone else in his life to play with.. And he loved to teach, to help people learn. He was so good at it too, his big brain being used to help people no matter the context.

Eventually he won the game as usual, causing me to groan in frustration..

“You bastard.”

“Not my fault you kinda suck,” he laughed bashfully, lips curling up into a small smile. It was nice to see a bit of happiness on his face, no matter how temporary.

“You’re so rude to me,” I joked, moving the board to the coffee table. “I thought we were friends.”

It was silent for a few moments, with me figuring out what I was going to say next.

“Spencer I know you haven’t wanted my help, but please tell me what I can do for you. Tell me how you feel, at least?”

‘Maybe you don't want what you need most’

“It’s nothing, ____,” he breathed, looking away from me and instead at the wall the couch was facing. He could see our reflection on the blank tv, and instead opted to just look down at his lap. “I’m better now.”

‘You ain't even there for me

Now you're scared to be alone’

“Respectfully, that’s bullshit.”

“Excuse me?”

“Oh come on. I know you don’t want to talk about this but at least give me something. Don’t keep it all in. It’s not healthy.”

His face screwed up at my words, eyebrows furrowed and lips twitching. I could tell he knew I was right, as much as he hated it.

“I’m just- I’m scared.”

“Of what?”

“I don’t want you to leave,” Spencer whispered, barely loud enough for me to hear.

‘Got me thinkin' that you scared of yourself, not me’

It all made sense -- the way he’d been distancing himself lately. It took me promising candy and Star Trek for him to come over tonight, and even then he almost declined. Too many blows to the heart made him afraid to get attached. He didn’t want anyone else from his life to disappear in a flash.

“Look at me,” I said, and he snapped his head to face me. “I’m not going anywhere. I can’t claim to be far in the future, but right now? I’m here. You’re stuck with me for a while, Spencer.”

He smiled, closing his eyes as a stray tear graced across his cheek. I used my thumb to wipe it away, and pulled him into a tight hug. He relaxed against me, I felt the tensions in his shoulders deflate as I held him.

“I’ve got you,” I whispered, pressing a kiss to the side of his head. His breath shuddered, and he wrapped his arms around my middle tighter, pushing his face into my shoulder to muffle his crying.

We sat for a while, my hands tracing patterns along his back. It took a few minutes for his cries to calm down, but eventually his breathing evened out with only a few hiccups here and there. He was practically sitting in my lap with his legs flung over mine, suddenly not caring about his personal space. I couldn’t blame him -- the boy was so touch starved he so clearly craved all contact he consented to.

“Do you want to spend the night?” I asked, quietly so I didn’t scare him with the sudden sound.

“Could I please?”

“Of course,” I smiled, pulling away. He still held on tight, not wanting to let go.

We made our way to my bedroom, repeating our usual routine. This wasn’t the first time we’d had a sleepover, and it won’t be the last I’m sure. Sometimes after particularly harder cases he would spend the night, just to be close to someone.

I went into the bathroom to change, giving him the opportunity to do the same. When I returned, he was dressed in a t-shirt and flannel pants he left at my place for sleepovers like this. He was already in bed, and when he saw that I was done in the bathroom he lifted the side of the blanket to welcome me in.

I joined him, grinning as he scooted over and pressed his back to my chest. I felt him breathing softly, my right arm slung over his torso to bring him in closer. He held onto my hand, and didn’t let me drift away. I was happy to comply, happy to feel his body warmth radiate through me.

“Thank you, ____. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight Spence.”

From that day on for the foreseeable future, I swore to myself to have check-ins with Spencer whenever it seemed necessary. Whether it was in the form of words, sleepovers, movie nights, or chess.

His smile got brighter everyday, and eventually he no longer felt as much weight on himself a few weeks down the road. He still cried to me about how he missed Gideon, but it had gotten less frequent. And I was always there for him, offering my shoulder and the promise of my embrace. I knew he appreciated it too.

After a few months since our first game, I beat him in a game of chess. We were on the jet on the way to Montana for a case, and Derek was sitting beside Spencer. He kept annoying him, doing little things like twisting his hair and fanning him with files. Spencer kept shrieking quietly -- trying not to alert Hotch of the bickering.

“Checkmate,” I said, biting back a smile.

“What?!” Spencer froze, arm raised in what looked like to be a poor attempt of whacking Derek’s head.

“Awe, pretty boy. You’ll get her next time,” Derek threw his head back in laughter.

“What?” Spencer repeated quieter, eyes darting across the board, likely running calculations in his head.

“Better luck next time,” I smirked, tilting my head to the side. I wiggled my eyebrows, my small victory boosting my ego.

Spencer tried to keep a neutral face, but I could see by the tension in his cheekbones that he was happy. He was enjoying it.

-----

Please tell me your thoughts on this chapter here!

You can also send me an ask to join this series’ taglist.

permanent taglist; @spencerscumrag @spenxerslut

[gorbo-longstocking]

pov ur fave skeletons are forced to order from starbucks what are they getting (lord u cant just order a black coffee thats cheating)

ok ok so i don’t actually go to starbucks often (ever) so i had to look at their menu for this. i just did the eight skeletons bc how could i ever pick a favorite. *shovels all my pictures of blue and lord back into my purse*

sans: more than likely sans will go for a pastry before a coffee, maybe like a cheese danish or something? gets free stuff all the time bc he always makes the barista laugh.

papyrus: probably a vanilla bean frappuccino. toriel got it for frisk when they were younger to limit their caffeine intake. papyrus tried it once and now hes attached. hes the kind of guy to order the same exact thing every time he goes somewhere.

red: he feels kind of like an idiot saying the drink names out loud that arent “espresso” “cappuccino” and “latte” so hes kind of locked himself into those selections.

edge: chai tea latte with oat milk. cannot explain, those are just his vibes.

blue: pink drink. its cute, like him, and it tastes good. he likes what he likes and hes not ashamed of it. he asks to have whipped cream on top.

stretch: isnt allowed to get starbucks anymore because blue found a bunch of old cups that had formed their own ecosystem in his room. they were like lava lamps. he usually orders really really sweet iced coffees

lord: an americano if his hand is forced. he is a coffee snob and lowkey hates starbucks with the fury of 1000 suns. he is very annoying about it

mutt: lowkey the BANE of every starbucks employees existence. he always orders some complex absolutely insane thing on the app because he saw it online once. its a 50/50 shot if he actually likes it or not.

[spidermilkshake]

Sharad-Waador, Great Wyrm of the Karmic Order

There were fewer creatures more poorly understood in all Ancardia as Dragons.

Coincidentally, they were also one of the most well-understood species. Dragons reckoned with themselves better than most; dragons knew all about how they really worked, how their minds ticked along, and their limitations. Indeed, limitations. If humans and dwarves and elves thought dragons were haughty and prickly and held their station up high and mighty over "lesser mortals", it was only a miscomprehension of a creature which stayed aloof in order to be as out of reach as possible, because humanoids who know you are mystic, ancient, powerful and important coveted it... and it didn't take a particularly wise animal to know where those humanoids were going with the "arrogant arcane regent beast" line.

So, Sharad-Waador, the ancient chief great wyrm of the Karmic Order of his kind, glancing down his heavily-scarred, starling-glitter snout at the small form. Silently considering the sort of being who could come looking for him. Silently considering what sort could actually find him.

"Sorry it's so late," the figure surprised him. It struggled to pull down the fur-trimmed hood to reveal a sun-abused and bruised young Hurthling with scraggy brown hair almost indistinguishable from the coat lining. The Hurthling wrung his frigid hands through the worn gloves and gave an apologetic wince, "Er, got kind of mixed 'round on the way up. Sorry. A lot of these peaks look the same."

The wyrm blinked, audibly. Of course there was good reason the rising landscape would look the same. There was in fact one peak in this range. Woven invisibly about it like a humming wicker basket were other things. Loops and backtracks, traps for the unwary and determined alike. It was, due to Sharad-Waador's arcane exploits, impossible to approach the dragon's den directly. He studied the reddened, round face craning up towards him and shuffling his heavily-wrapped feet. Deep ruby eyes set into an intrigued squint--and gave a leaden nod at the small being.

"The hour of the sun is... inconsequential," The Great Wyrm's voice, of wool and gravel with notes of bisony depth, echoed over the stone strata. "Anyway, you are here now. You had difficulty?"

"Just a little lost," the Hurthling flinched again, stamping a bit of life back into his throbbing toes. "Found the path again, thankfully."

"Hmmmm." Behind the dragon's deep jewels of eyes it felt like a complex machinery of silver wheels and cogs and pistons was quietly clicking into place. IT was true some creatures had astounding natural potential--outstripping more mundane ones--but yet, sometimes chance and the Punnet Square gifted to a select few individuals the magical weight you couldn't expect from a thousand peers. This dumpy little primate, by the expression of nervous hope painted over his slightly clueless face, was as untrained as they came. And yet.

"Very well. I am impressed by your dedication," the vast wall of Sharad-Waador's rainbow-scaled flank turned to the side, in preparation to lead the way towards the deep hole in the mountainside. "Perhaps there could be some trade arranged," The neck twisted about, catching the small set of eyes in his own, "After coming all this way, surely there is something you want?"

"Oh--yes, I--" The Hurthling scrabbled to a halt mid-exclamation. "Er, you said trade? I, er, I'm afraid I ain't got much..."

"We have much to discuss." Sharad-Waador hinted a smile, which showed only in the slight baring of his huge, mandrill-like upper tusks. "I require no material compensation, of course. I have in mind a service you could perform on my behalf..." he paused, intaking breath, "...when you are ready."

The rock face vibrated as the gigantic beast plodded off to the cavern entrance--and the Hurthling hesitated as the stone before him shifted, grated, and slowly sunk into a fairly even ramp upwards. With a dry mouth, he peered up and saw the gleam of the red draconic gaze bidding him to follow.

[hotwings0203]

politely asking for more scummy hawks pls n thanks😇😊

Tw:abuse, noncon, misogyny

“Isn’t it pretty?”

“Yeah, it is.”

“You’re not looking. Or listening.”

You turn to him but don’t look at him, just like he called out.

“It is.”

“What am I talking about?”

“Me.”

He laughs and slaps the bar as if it’s the funniest thing he’s heard, which it’s not.

“Nice try sweetheart, you’re not that pretty though. I’m talking about the horizon,” he smirks and expects you to smile.

You look away again and barely turn the corners of your lips up.

He might be trying to make a joke, but he’s drilled it into you for way too long to be deemed as anything such.

“Oh come on, don’t tell me your upset?”

He tries reaching for your arms but you shift away.

You can hear a loud exhale as the cart rocks back and forth from his switching positions to look straight again ahead.

“Y’know, all I want is an intellectual conversation.”

That’s not all he wants, he wants too much, he wants your mind, body, soul, attention, pussy-

“I can’t hear you when you’re always screaming.”

The wind doesn’t whip your face as hard as his words do.

But nonetheless, you keep your silence.

“I thought this would be a nice treat for you.” His voice goes flat, void of any past faux humor. “I thought you deserved to be rewarded for being such a good girl, but I guess I was wrong.”

You turn to side eye him and he knows he’s got your attention.

“It doesn’t seem fair actually. I’m having a good time, but you’re not. Y’know what, let’s just go already, I’ll put you back in the basement just how you want-“ he signals to the ride operator but you quickly latch onto his waving fingers and pull them down as gently as you can in your panicked state.

“No, don’t!” He raises an eyebrow at your volume and you immediately backtrack.

“I mean, please don’t. I’m honestly enjoying it here, ‘was just looking at the view…” and when he doesn’t say anything, you feign an eye roll and put the cherry on top.

“Thank you.”

Bingo.

He chuckles and manspreads across the rickety cart, bumping knees with your frigid form.

“Finally, some fucking appreciation. God, you really can’t take a hint, can you? Looks like your time down there really fucked up your already teeny brain, right?” He teases and raps his knuckles against the side of your head.

You grimace but know not to back up. The last time he did that you walked around with a tail up your ass and a ring gag in your mouth for three days, without food.

“Yes, Keigo.”

“That’s my girl.”

It’s quiet for some time as he intakes his fill of meager “conversation”. You listen to other people on the Ferris wheel, the screams and laughter of people below, the smell of popcorn and cotton candy.

This isn’t the real world. The real world is in Keigo’s house, with Keigo and on Keigo and underneath Keigo.

So why are you always at unease with him?

“The stars look so bright tonight. They reflect against your eyes so beautifully.” He rests his elbow on the rail and props his cheek against his palm, softly smiling at you.

You fidget more and run a hand through your hair as he shamelessly stares at you.

You open your mouth to thank him, as he wants, but then-

“I almost wanna take ‘em out of your fucking skull, keep ‘em for myself.”

You jerk back and scoot to the far side of the cart, looking at him like he was a monster.

Which he was.

He merely smirks and chuckles at your reaction. “Kidding.”

Knowing Keigo, he probably wasn’t.

“It’s all so comical, isn’t it?”

You play along.

“What is, Keigo?”

“These people. These women. I’m sure you’ve noticed them, yeah? Their petty lives, their meaningless goals. They all think they’re better than each other, but after a hard dick up their uppity cunts and some food they succumb to their base needs. It’s just how you females work,” he shrugs and scratches his stubble.

You grip the rail tighter and focus your gaze on a green spot on the steel floor.

“It’s how you were anyways. Gotta admit though, you were one nasty bitch. Hard to train, but useful in some ways after you realized your place.”

As if you were the one who was begging him for a chance.

“Am I right?”

You’re silent.

He grabs the back of your head and slams it on the rail. Blood flies out of your nose and covers your eyes, but you don’t scream.

He can’t hear what you’re saying when you scream.

“Am I right?”

“Yeth Keibgo.”

“Good. I think we should get off now, I saw some games I wanted to try out. And stop bleeding so much, you’re fucking up my jacket.

“Yeth Keibgo.”

[wakatvshi]

f!reader x bertholdt + sucking him off under the table in the mess haul during dinner?? tysm! idk if ur requests are open 💕

Yes they are and I’m so excited to write this and that my first smut request is Bertholdt! He needs more love and I am more than happy to give it to him because he’s my favorite. feedback appriciated!

warnings: smut, blowjobs, hair pulling, deep throating. NSFW

wordcount: 1373

note: i made this an au where bertholdt survived and is in marley.

You hummed against the inside of his thigh, a smirk forming on your lips when you noticed Bertholdt’s hand in a tight fist against his thigh. “Act normal my love.” Lazily you pumped his cock, the soft whines and whimpers leaving the man like music to your ears. You’d just now gotten your hand on his cock, barely started touching him and your lover was already losing control. “Or someone will come in and see.” Looking up at him from under the table he was sat at, you winked at him. 

This was actually his idea. You under the table at the mess hall on your knees, your hand and soon your mouth on his cock in public where anyone could possibly see you. See their proud holder of the colossal titan falling apart, see how he cried for you and how he begged so prettily. No one would believe it if you told them, he was so shy and sweet but when you had his cock inside you, and your hand pulling at his hair he let some of his filthier fantasies free. 

Bertholdt had looked at you with wide eyes when you slid under the table, your hand sliding along his thigh as you did. It took him only a few seconds to catch up with what you were doing and then his face lit up. He had such a pretty blush and so far it hadn’t left his face. His tanned skin was flushed pink from the tips of his ears to his already hard cock. It might have been his idea but he’d never have made the first move. Or any move like that. It was why you took control so often, because you weren’t afraid to give him what he wanted. 

There were only three other people in here, all the way across the large room and not paying attention to the two of you. Yet at least. If Bertholdt made too loud of a noise they’d look over and it wouldn’t take them too long to realize what was happening. The gossip that would happen if they saw one of their war council getting a blowjob in the mess hall. A wave of pleasure hit you at just the idea. You never knew how much of an exhibitionist you were until Bertholdt put the idea in your head. 

Bertholdt’s eyes flickered from you to the other people in the room, “Maybe this was a bad idea.” He was a nervous person in general so him changing his mind wasn’t unexpected. You almost stood up before his hand slowly moved to rest on top of yours where it rested on his knee. “They could see what you’re doing to me.” He sounded breathless, his face growing hotter when he looked back at you. 

Biting the inside of your lip you leaned in, your tongue flicking against the tip of his cock, causing him to jump slightly in his seat. “Then you should be a good warrior and be quiet.” The way his eyes lit up when you praised him. You knew it drove him crazy, he lived for praise and you lived for how pliant it made him. “Just sit back and let me help you with your problem. Okay?” 

You waited for him to nod, a final confirmation that this was what he wanted before you ran your tongue along the underside of his cock. The sharp intake of breath from him had you smirking, your lips running down his shaft in open-mouthed kisses, trying to get more of those soft noises out of him. You knew you couldn’t tease him for too long. Bertholdt could get loud when he whined and as hot as the idea of getting caught was the reality wasn’t necessarily as pleasant.

When you finally took the tip of his cock into your mouth and sucked he dug his nails into the top of your hand as a gasp left him. Humming at the sensation it sent through your arm you sunk down further on his cock. He was longer than he was thick, but that didn’t make much of a difference when he hit the back of your throat before you were near the base of his cock. Being with Bertholdt was a good way to get used to deep throating. 

Between your legs you could feel yourself getting wet. The sounds of your lovers whines and the feeling of his nails digging into your skin was sending waves of pleasure straight to your core. Later you’d make him pay you back, have him eat your pussy until his jaw ached or ride him until you couldn’t stand it. There were endless possibilities for later. Right now you wanted to make him cum. 

Taking your hand out from under his he started to apologize before you pulled off his cock, his eyes drawn t the trail of spit connecting your lips to his cock. “Grab my hair.” Your voice was already getting horse but you didn’t care. When he hesitated you grabbed his large hand, putting it on top of your head. “You know I like it.” How his hesitance could be so endearing with your lips swollen and his cock out, wet with your spit you had no idea.

Bertholdt left his hand on your head, not moving until you huffed and took his entire cock into your mouth, not breaking eye contact. His eyes shut tightly and his hand tightened in your hair, yanking at the roots. Moaning around his cock he pulled tighter and you whimpered, your pussy throbbing between your legs. Later your head would be sore from where he was pulling at your hair but right now it was only egging you on more. 

He was desperately trying to be quiet as you sucked his cock, his eyes were tightly closed and he was biting his lip. Your eyes watered when he suddenly thrust his hips up, sending his cock further down your throat causing to you gag. Bertholdt’s eyes snapped open, ready to apologize but when his eyes caught yours and you nodded he did it again. Just a slight thrust of his hips that was enough to drive you crazy as you braced yourself for the motions. 

A voice made his shallow thrusts stop, “Have a good day sir!” The other people were leaving the mess hall and of course they stopped to say bye to one of their superiors. This was the Eldian mess hall after all.

After a few seconds of stuttering he finally gathered a few words.“Yeah! Yes.” By his shaking hands you’d almost say he was scared but the fact that his cock was throbbing in your mouth told you that even if he was scared, he liked it. “You two.” Bertholdt sounded breathless but you doubted that they’d pick up that anything was different. He was the last person they’d expect to be getting a blowjob in the middle of the mess hall. 

When his green eyes caught yours again you smirked when there was really only excitement in his eyes. Pulling off his cock you cleared your throat as your free hand stroked him, your spit making the slide so much easier. “Better cum before someone else needs to come in here.” Leaning down you sucked at the tip again, your tongue running over his slit. “What if Reiner or Zeke come in and se-” 

That did it. Again he was pulling at your hair, whines leaving him even through his closed mouth, the desperate biting of his lip doing little to hide the sounds as he spilled into your mouth. Your eyes never left his as you took everything, both of you staring at each other as you let him use your mouth, the shallow thrusts coming to a stop when he was finally done. 

Pulling back you made a show of swallowing, making sure he saw that you’d taken all of his cum. Wiping your mouth off with the back of your hand you slid back up to the seat next to him, showing no shame when you leaned in and kissed him, your tongue brushing against his lips for a second. “You owe me.”