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#who needs love when you have fanfiction?
marvel-lous-guy · 3 months
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Peter: Why do we even celebrate Valentine's Day? It's just a made-up holiday to sell greeting cards and chocolates.
Pepper: Oh, come on, Peter. Don't be so cynical. Valentine's Day is a time to show your loved ones how much you care about them.
Tony: Yeah, and it's also a great excuse to get drunk and hook up with strangers.
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whetstonefires · 6 months
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I hope you're having an excellent day 😊😊😊 What about Wei Wuxian as Naruto?
Thanks! It was pretty good. I organized my embroidery floss and took advantage of being alone in the building to dance around like a maniac for about 20 minutes. My cat hated it. My knees aren't sure they approve either.
Wei Wuxian as Naruto has a lot going for it right out the gate. Orphaned sunshine boy protagonist types, now we're cooking with propane. They're even both fox coded!
However, at the risk of stating the obvious, if Wei Wuxian were Naruto he wouldn't be Naruto anymore. That is. Fundamental to Wei Wuxian is that he is brilliant and talented and he damn well knows it. He would excel without effort in ninja school--not as much as he did in Jiang Sect unless he unlike Naruto was still getting personal mentoring in honor of his late father, but still.
Difference is, when this Wei Wuxian slacks off in class and the teacher tries to embarrass him, if he reels off the correct answer and then reinvents senjutsu from first principles in a creepy-sounding way for a lark just to show off, the teacher is not going to think that he's just like his annoying late mother. (Though he'll still have one. Kushina and Cangse Sanren are fairly similar Dead Mom archetypes too.)
The teacher is going to think things like, no real child would say that shit and I'm expected to teach the monster fox that killed my family basic ninjutsu I hate this I hate this we're all gonna die.
So basically this Wei Wuxian gets his Yiling Laozu reputation mod as part of the starter pack. I don't think he'd handle it super gracefully! But not the worst, either.
Not even as badly as he did in the actual version, probably, on account of he doesn't know his own dark secret. So he can't self-isolate to protect it. Though him pulling away from people once he does learn would be cool.
He'd probably have forged slightly stronger social ties rather sooner than Naruto did, even if he was just as neglected and radioactive; Wei Wuxian doesn't care what people think of him nearly as much as Naruto does, but in some ways he's a more genuinely social person, and he's got much better social intuition, so it's easier for him to figure out what people want and either do that or not do that on purpose.
He'd have at least a bunch of casual friends. Mostly civilians, and other kids from ninja school whose parents told them not to play with him but they did anyway.
Wei Wuxian cannot do therapy no jutsu. He does not have that ability to confront and exist with emotional discomfort or that intensity of interest in what is going on with other people.
He does however have some level of Friendship Beam Attack (the plot to some extent hinges utterly on how effectively it hit Wen Ning) and it would presumably be more effective, in a shounen context.
But that's the thing, Wei Wuxian isn't really built to confront shounen manga style problems. Or, well, he is, but he's overbuilt for them; they're his bread and butter. One of Naruto's key motifs, early on at least before we got into the heavy power creep, is not being a genius.
Wei Wuxian, by definition, is a genius. He is the kind of guy who walks up to shounen manga sorts of problems scaled to what ought to be his level, handles them, and goes 'what, like it's hard?'
Wei Wuxian is designed to be destroyed not by external threats but by his own loyalties, politics, and lies. (Which was a point of confluence with Itachi I didn't really touch on because the flow was so different lmao.)
He's also, otoh, designed to be destroyed. Naruto is designed to start off artificially low and climb steadily up toward heaven. (Ymmv on how this worked out but he sure did escalate.)
You have to pick which schema to apply when performing the fusion--I mean, it's not either-or, the whole deal with Wei Wuxian is he goes through the entire arc of a tragedy and then comes back to life and stars in a romcom. These things can superimpose and stack. But there are structural decisions that have to be made early.
So anyway, Wei Wuxian as Naruto is not going to enter the Genin Team phase of life with the same priorities, even if he has largely conducted himself about the same way hitherto. 'Proving himself' so 'people will accept him' is not a motive that works for this character--you basically have to give him actual precious people earlier just to get him to care about attaining ninja rank at all.
Otherwise he would probably much rather loaf his way through his teens stealing jutsu and making trouble. Which is the well-adjusted reaction to the idea of becoming a child soldier, like. He likes recognition but 'showing off' is a reason he does dumb fun things, not difficult high-commitment ones. He's like if Shikamaru had ADHD and no parents.
Being twelve is going to make him dumber, but I can't see it making him not the kind of person who stops caring about his marks in school if the teacher is hostile.
If Wei Wuxian here isn't acting out of appreciation for the Hokage raising him, or something like that, you have to give him a practical motive to enter military service like 'Konoha stops supporting orphans out of the public purse at thirteen so he's got to get some kind of job and ninja is the least boring option' which. Is significantly less like either Naruto or Wei Wuxian in terms of reasons to do anything, and starts getting into solidly OC territory.
The whole fact that Konoha's worldbuilding centers around an attempt to move away from decentralized clannish social organization and promote the idea of shared, communal social institutions and (in theory) civil society, and the ways this does and does not work out for people especially considering it is still a relatively small military dictatorship, honestly interfaces super interestingly with how, in Mo Dao Zu Shi, one of the underlying challenges backstopping all character choice is that there is no feasible alternative to the clan system, and you have to pick a family-faction to depend upon and submit yourself to, or face the world with no safety net.
Like. Huh.
.....Kishimoto is honestly unusually-for-shounen well-grounded in the genres he's riffing on tbh, for all my bitching there were some very good reasons his work found such success; I would have liked to see what kind of story he produced without the insane pressures of the Weekly part of Weekly Shounen Jump. I wonder if he'll ever publish again. For all I know he already is lmao.
So anyway, however we manage it we get Wei Wuxian on his genin team with like. Lan Wangji and Mianmian or whoever. Actually that's hilarious. Yeah, make it lwj and lqy, both of them so done with his shit.
Setting up some wild role-reversal here--Lan Wangji being the one to go Away and Wei Wuxian asking him to stay? Or Naruto-person leaving into the dark, and Sasuke-person remaining and calling for him to come back? Either way. Getting some inversion. Tasty.
Where does this leave Jiang Cheng, though? Because in a lot of ways Uchiha 'Deuteragonist by Editorial Mandate' Sasuke is straddling both roles.
In many ways Wangxian is much more like if Naruto had an endgame romance with Neji. Which is a great ship tbh, I saw very little of it back in the day?? In a series with a smaller cast or with less Sasuke Creep (not sasuke being a creep, it's like power creep) it would probably have done numbers.
...Naruto going away for that timeskip really limited his opportunity to make connections in the village huh.
I guess it depends on the kind of narrative you're trying to put together. On one hand, you can do Jiang Fengmian as the rather-more-involved Third Hokage, with Jiang Cheng as an aged-up Konohamaru kind of figure. And then Jiang Yanli is standing in as both Iruka and. I know I know the ramen guy's name. Ichiraku. Soup! XD Emotionally significant soup!
But with a different backstory than either lmao. Kurama very possibly killed Yu Ziyuan in this universe, though I can't visualize her as a midwife.
[[[Why do I have so much Naruto lore on tap, there is no life value in knowing Sarutobi Hiruzen's wife was at ground zero of the Kyuubi attack because she was the expert overseeing Uzumaki Kushina's childbirth a;kdj;lafdks. I do not remember the things I was actually studying in high school nearly this well.]]]
(Actually Jin Ling is Konohamaru and Jiang Cheng is aged-down Asuma. But whatever.)
And in this case Wei Wuxian's genin team is Lan Wangji and Mianmian under idk who. Lan Qiren, possibly, although he seems more the Ebisu type. Lan Xichen? (It's not like he can serve as a plausible Itachi. Can you imagine.) Actual Kakashi, possibly; we can't replace everyone with mdzs characters; the cast sizes don't square.
Kakashi training Wei Wuxian is very funny to think about. He deserves this.
Or on the other hand for a different pacing and focus, the genin team is him, Jiang Cheng, and Jiang Yanli under Jiang Fengmian, who dies sometime after or probably during the climax of the chuunin exams. And Sarutobi stays Hokage, and probably doesn't die during the chuunin exams. And we aim for a Naruto/Neji kind of romance storyline lol.
What is the Lan Wangji equivalent of Neji exposing his caged bird seal in front of god and everybody and ranting (it is very unclear at what effective volume though you'd think the proctors would have shut him up if he could be heard from the stadium seating that shit was sedition) about his traumatic backstory and the deep injustices in his family's system of hierarchy? I'm gonna say Not That.
Wei Wuxian versus Lan Wangji important ideological-conflict bonding duel in the Chuunin exam finals sounds excellent though.
Either way Wei Wuxian is going to get much more thoroughly involved in the ugly ninja politics than Naruto ever did, and he's going to hate it so so bad and at least temporarily lose so so so hard. A likely story element is he becomes troublesome enough he winds up having to flee the village ahead of a scheme by Danzou to (fatally) rip the Kyuubi out of him and implant it in some thoroughly conditioned ROOT kid.
Maybe Wen Ning?? Idk. I'm mostly saying this because Wen Ning 1) canonically gets Victimized and Transformed and 2) shares some notes with Sai. And this means he's leaving, in part, for Wen Ning, which ties into some plot and character stuff from their original narrative. You could make it work.
Also him taking the replacement human sacrifice with him when he books it would be hysterical.
Anyway he's branded a missing nin and it is, canonically, illegal for him to tell anyone who doesn't already know about the kyuubi thing, so both Jiang Cheng and Lan Wangji are appropriately what the fucking fuck and receive no adequate answer. This is a workable plot element.
Either the Jiangs or the Lans are the Uchiha, here, which has its own story value, lots of fun to be had. Gotta engineer a way he's protecting Jiang Cheng--does Danzou want to make him the jinchuuriki? Is Orochimaru or his replacement making a play for Jiang Cheng's bloodline limit, whatever it is, fun if it's eyeballs, and Wei Wuxian bargains to give him a jinchuuriki instead? Hmmm.
You want an inside and an outside threat, the obvious viper and the political spider, so you can silo information and make sure nobody entirely knows what's going on.
If it's Jiang Cheng who's assigned the role of bloodline limit macguffin, I have the very wicked urge to cast Yu Ziyuan as some combination of Itachi and Obito. Very Vader kind of effect.
Jin Guangyao as Kabuto, excellent, I need that innocent smile and those torture skills. This may require making Jin Guangshan much smarter than he really is just to fill out the ranks, or again you can keep Danzou as himself.
Tsunade is amusingly enough occupying an overlapping Baoshan Sanren and Wen Qing position; given one of them impersonated the other that time you'd have to do something with that. She's also got some Yu Ziyuan vibe up ofc. Tsunade just contains an entire franchise's supply of girlboss tbh.
Who could possibly stand in for Jiraiya, nobody, but at the same time. Wei Wuxian (with internal sapient asshole nuke) apprenticing under Jiraiya of the Sannin sounds like enough problem-creating goofy jackass genius clown energy in one place to open a singularity. That's too much. No narrative could survive.
Anyway someone please feel free to write this, I am intrigued but also will 100percent never ever put in the time it would take to realize any version of this concept.
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bandtrees · 4 months
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two conversations i want to have about "dead dove do not eat"
it's annoying how people treat it as a genre or descriptor in and of itself when it hypothetically should have no ties to "problematic" or "dark", it literally just means "what you see is what you get with these tags" - which is a concept that can encompass any kind of writing. in an ideal world dead dove is not a Type of fic, it is literally just a neutral descriptor, and i think it's very annoying how it got largely co-opted by proshippers who think it's shorthand for Dark And Twisted Porn™ and treat it as some kind of genre in and of itself
it just sounds incredibly lame. what's wrong with just saying "yeah heed the tags this is serious" instead of assuming everyone knows about a nonsense vaguely-artsy meme phrase. can we not just use our words
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ironhusband · 11 months
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Dear writers,
I know how important comments are - believe me, as a writer myself I absolutely do - but I would like to notify you that sometimes a simple kudos can be all a person can do to show their love. My brother loves fanfics, even saves passages of them onto his phone - but he has crippling social anxiety to the point where he’s afraid to even bookmark or mark for later a fic. It doesn’t matter how much I reassure him writers love comments of all kinds - he’s simply too anxious.
So everytime you - understandably - despair over the ratio of comments to kudos you get (or maybe you even don’t get comments at all), just remember there are people like my brother who love you from afar and are simply too nervous to tell you themselves.
You have more fans than you know. Keep writing. It’s a blessing for everyone.
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swordfaery · 1 month
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anyway my favourite thing about dead men fanfiction is the wildly different characters we all write. like. not even the ones who have been dead for years and have so little actual characterisation but even the ones who were alive in canon were probably very different one hundred, two hundred, three hundred years ago. also theyre under characterised in fiction. also we are all just having fun
#guy who barely posts about skulduggery pleasant: so ive be rereading some of my old favourite dead men fanfiction#as well as my own dead men fanfiction#and damn if we arent all writing a bunch of different fucking guys. to be fair i have gone rogue bcos like. cant be fucked w canon#dont wanna write about war#heyo what if it was pre war and everyone was still. convinced their wouldnt be one#also i love the idea of skulduggery being. just super fucking irresponsible devil may care live laugh love sorta guy pre-war#spoilt. rich parents who dont care much about him. loads of magic tutors.#i mean think about the class implications of the dead men#skulduggery. an elemental. a difficult discipline that clearly requires a level of training and scholarli-ness#his NAME is skulduggery#you come across that name if your educated. if you read a lot#this is a man who has been afforded every privilege#and like. i think a lot of sorcerers are implied to be very upper class#or like. kinda rich and fancy about it#but obviously that wouldnt be the case for everyone bcos magic isnt just genetic right like some ppl just show up with it#and like even then#dexter vex#anton shudder#like as far as im aware these are just names ppl have#and slightly uncommonly used words#disciplines which are more emotional/physical#as opposed to 'learned'#i just think its interesting#i was gonna have my dead men all meet n be friends pre war#but tbh i think them meeting and not being friends is better#i think theres a sort of tragedy in them being as close as they were because of the war#and not having that post war or pre war#its actually really fucking sad but like. evidently they didnt hang out in the interim when most of em were still alive#or at least that much#im wondering if like. they needed a couple hundred years of like. detox bcos seeing each other just pulled them back into that mindset
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lovelesslittleloser · 3 months
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15,503 words of bullet points for a mash-up of too many varieties of the same subject
Five books planned, two prequels two sequels, the original story is the least interesting part
Twenty-five half-planned chapters of vaguely-connected casefic oneshots
And I’ll never finish writing any of them.
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ichayalovesyou · 2 years
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i've sent in for some fluff/comfort previously, but what about the other direction? >:)
💙, 💫, 😵‍💫 (maybe both Reader and Pike would be fun! but i'll leave that to you)
have fun! LLAP
Oooh! I have a TERRIBLE idea for this 😈! Thank you for this amazing prompt!! Also for being a good friend! Also for using my super helpful emoji prompts! Let's DO THIS!! 😎
Exolvuntur Terror (Platonic Pike x Reader)
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Rating: PG-13 (Mild Gore)
Word Count: 1.9k
Content: Platonic/SFW, GN!Reader, Alien!Reader, Sciences!Reader, artificial time loops, trauma (metaphorical and literal), learning to have faith in yourself, very angsty much tragic, but!! also very hurt/comfort, Una being protective of her bestie, faceless entities with unknown desires SUCK!
Teaser: A selfish and malevolent entity has trapped Captain Pike's mind in a time loop of the Incident that will end his life as he knows it. Spock was badly wounded in the initial confrontation and cannot aid him. So it is up to you, an untrained telepath but a telepath nonetheless, to save him.
“I had to sedate him.” Chapel entered the briefing room, visibly anxious. 
“The restraints weren’t doing enough. His muscles were reacting like he’s being thrown by something we can’t see. Delirious, unresponsive to external stimuli, I have never seen the Captain, anyone, like this before. And- and Spock-“ Christine’s voice caught in her throat.
“Spock, we know how to help, and he is stable for the time being. It is the Captain who we need to get sorted out now.” M’Benga reassured her, she took a seat at the table, holding down her distress.
It was very intimidating, you were the only one in the room who wasn’t senior staff, and chances were, knew the Captain the least.
“Whatever scenario these entities are putting the Captain through, it is repeating. Same emotional trauma response from the brain and pain response from his nervous system. Two minute intervals, the nerve reaction pattern suggests a radioactive explosion of some kind.”
“And the good news?” you asked, nervously.
“Luckily his body is not exhibiting the side effects of being irradiated, but his brain and nervous system are responding to the stimulus as though it were real. Like a circuit board, the human nervous system is only able to carry so much before it overloads. Not only that but the brain can only endure so much stress as well. If we don’t find a way to break this cycle soon. There may be very little of Chris left to save.” He finished grimly.
You swallowed hard “Wha- what do you need me to do?”
“We need you to go into his mind, find a way to stop it.” Una replied, deadly serious, every part of her was tense, her gaze, her posture. She was furious, like she’d burst into flame if she could.
“My telepathic abilities are limited sir, I don’t have the training-“
“We wouldn’t ask you if there were any other way.” Una insisted.
“How much risk is there to the Lieutenant? Push comes to shove, I’d rather not lose two officers in one day.” La’an inquired in a measured tone, she shared an intense glance with Number One as she did.
“I don’t know.” M’benga responded.
“There isn’t a single one of us in this room Chris wouldn’t be willing to take that risk for.” Una began.
“Sir, with all due respect you can’t ask-“ Chapel interjected on your behalf.
“I’ll do it.” You eased, quietly, almost involuntarily.
“What?” Half of the room said in unison.
“I… if I’m the only one that can help him. I can’t just… sit by and watch.” you groped for words, for courage “I need to do this, I think. If what you say is true.”
“It is.” the First Officer replied, the edge on her voice was gone, leaving something sentimental interlaced with her obvious concern.
You entered sickbay, coming upon the Captain, he was unconscious, but restless, stricken, white as a sheet, like he was in the throes of a nightmare.
“Help him, please.” The Commander begged.
“I’ll try, I promise I will.” You knew your voice and your body were shaking, but you were determined to see this through.
So you sat at the place made for you beside the biobed, placed your fingertips to the Captain’s temples
And dived.
Smoke, fire, screaming, there was a red alert blaring, metal plating creaked and glass began to crack.
“I got this!” Teenager’s voice, cadet by the looks of it.
“Get out of here! Go!!” There he was! Other cadets fled the scene, the glass continued to crack.
“I can fix it!” She yelled.
“Captain!” You yelled almost in unison with a boy on the other side of the containment field.
He looked up at you startled, good, you could contact him through his mental avatar in this vision.
“Leave it Cadet!” The glass shattered, the cadet was thrown backward, he was trying to drag her to safety.
You instinctively went to help him, but your hands phased through her, you were alien to this scenario, and to his mind.
“It’s Lieutenant Y/N! I’m here to get you out!”
“You- what? Lieutenant?! No, no this is not- you’re not supposed to be here. You have to go, now! It’s not safe!”
“Number One sent me here to save you!”
“What do you-?! But she-! Nevermind! You have to get out of here! That’s an order!”
“But-!”
“I said go!!” He grabbed you by the arm, he could grab you! He tossed you through the doorway into the crowd of panicking cadets.
The explosion consumed the chamber, he slammed against the wall, the burns were awful, he was reaching out for you, the cadets, but he couldn’t pass through the containment barrier.
But you could! You tried to reach for him, to take his hand, be of some comfort. It wasn’t fair-!
You were standing in front of the steps again.
“I got this!”
So this is where the loop starts. Good to know. You couldn’t let yourself get caught up in the moment.
“Captain Pike it’s me! I was sent here to save you, please listen to me!”
“No, no no no no! Una, she promised that she wouldn’t- Get out of here! Leave! Go!” He yelled back to the cadets, looking back at you again, a line of fury in his jaw.
“This isn’t happening right now, it’s not real!” You pleaded, taking his hands
“It will be! It has to be. You don’t understand, you can not save me. Spock is- the galaxy is at stake here!”
“I can fix it!” The girl yells.
“Leave it Cadet!” He jerked away from you, tending to the cadet as after she tumbles.
“I am not worth it, I am only one person. I promise you there is no other way, trust me I tried. Now please, just go!”
This time, the explosion consumes you both, you can only stand and watch from the center of the flames as his half burned body is flung against the wall again. 
The loop restarts.
“HI! Before you ask I’m not from the past or future-“
Failure. Explosion. Restart.
“Una had nothing to do with this I promise-“
Failure. Explosion. Restart.
“What do you mean your fate is set in stone?! Nobody can know that-!”
Failure. Explosion. Restart.
Failure. Explosion. Restart.
Failure. Explosion. Restart.
Failure. Explosion. Restart.
Failure. Explosion. Restart.
Before the words “I got this.” left that stupid kid’s mouth, you put yourself face to face with the Captain. Grabbing him by the shoulders.
“Captain Christopher Pike! Please, hear me! You are going to die if you don’t listen to me! This nightmare that keeps playing in your head is going to eat you up inside until there is nothing left of your mind but this! You won’t be able to save Spock, save the galaxy, or whatever it is you think you’re doing if we keep doing this over and over and over, so please, please listen!”
There were tears streaming down your face now. You didn’t know what else to do, what else to say. You couldn’t make him believe you. You were so tired your metaphysical knees buckled for a moment. 
Pike was staring at you, conflicted, anguished.
“I can’t-“ he started, his voice strained, desperate. Looking at the fiery chaos around him.
“-fix this!”
“No, you can’t, but I can. Watch this.”
The glass shattered, and you embraced him, blocking him from the blast with your own body. He began to return it
Then everything went dark.
Strange, the only manifestation of the vision that was able to affect you before was him. This didn’t seem like dying in a fiery blast though.
Pike was frozen in place, now you could phase through him and…
There was something else here, no, someone?
Alright, fine. You had removed the bullet, it was time to stop the bleeding.
“Leave him alone.” You said sternly “Whatever you want from him, whatever it is you’re looking for, it’s not here. I wouldn’t help you find it if I could.”
“Evidently not.” it replied coolly.
“Why would you, how could you do something like this?!” You asked, outraged, the anguish in your Captain’s eyes still burned into your mind.
“I sought to replicate a mineral which cannot be found in this plane of existence. But he is ignorant to it’s exact nature. Now, thanks to your interference, the tracking cycle is broken. He is of no more use to me.” The being stated plainly.
“What are you going to do to us?” You squeaked.
“Nothing. I intend to depart.” 
“No wait! Don’t leave him like this!” You attempted to raise a psychic barrier to keep the entity from leaving.
“I have removed the cycle from his memory, but not it’s source, to do so would not only unravel your Captain’s limited perception, but would unravel time.”
“What does that mean?”
“I warn you only once, microbe. Do not inconvenience me again. Farewell.”
It clearly knew you weren’t strong enough to hold it here in Pike’s subconscious, you barely had the strength to stay yourself. It was time to go, who knew what would happen if you lost contact with your body here.
Slowly, achingly, the world beyond the Captain’s mind encroached upon you. Everything hurt, the crest of your brow and your fingertips burned, there were pins and needles down your spine, the muscles around and behind your eyes ached, you were drenched in sweat. 
Never in your life had you ever engaged in mental contact like this before, especially not with a Human. Of course, his physiology was not accustomed to such interactions either. You cringed at the first degree burns and nail welts your hands left behind on his temples. But, it was a small price to pay for the Captain’s freedom.
Though you were exhausted, you had the psychic impression that the entity responsible had gone. You were certain you looked a mess, but Pike looked like death warmed over. Fear momentarily seized your chest before his eyes fluttered open. For a moment you’d feared the worst!
“What…?” Pike croaked “What happened?”
The Captain feebly tried to sit up, the restraints prevented it, too exhausted to bother with any further attempt.
“Ugh, feel like I got run over.” He griped, something you were certain was a woeful understatement.
“H- how much do you remember, sir?”
“Went down to the planet” he winced, “something, hit me, and then- wait, where’s Spock?” The Captain looked around, concern overriding the protests of his trembling body.
“Mr. Spock is gonna be fine sir, he’s recovering, just like you are.”
Pike sighed in relief, you didn’t want to distress him any further, but you had to know if the entity had kept it’s word.
“Anything else, sir?”
He furrowed his brow “No, not… really. Why am I-?”
“Restrained? Uh, well, whatever attacked you and Mr. Spock, there were hallucinations. You didn’t hurt anybody! They were more worried about you hurting yourself.”
“Oh, alright.” he half nodded, clearly fighting to stay awake.
“You should rest, sir.” you added, thinking it best to leave.
It hadn’t been a lie, but, it felt ugly. Wanting, maybe needing to hide things from the Captain, after everything. You’d discuss it with Dr. M’Benga first, divulge what was appropriate once the Captain was more stable, you told yourself. Best to debrief your superiors on what had transpired between you and the entity.
What did it mean by “Unravel time”, and what about “the source”? Had the entity drawn from something the Captain had seen before? If it had already occurred, how was he still here? Did it happen to someone else? Did he think it was Spock? Did the entity convince him he had traded places with him somehow?
Whatever it had meant, you hoped that for now, the Captain’s sleep was a nightmare-less one. For his sake, and for yours.
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todayisafridaynight · 8 months
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hi snap ^^ your y3 stream inspired me to also do a speedrun of it but instead i got down the rabbit hole of reminiscing about the game and mostly mine and daigo and minedai and- anyways i went back to ur minedai works bc they're still some of my fav minedai stuff ever TM you just draw a specific flavor of minedai that's just the best
related to that (hopefully isnt a weird question but) do you have any fic recs for them 👀 i trust your judgement on having good taste on minedai fics. it's been a while since ive been to the tag lol and i always like reading people's recommendations (btw nsfw or not is fine. I'm Old)
im so sorry ive trapped you into doing y3 speedruns BUT FR THANK YOU I HOPE YOU HAVE FUN !!! it really is a fun run to do once you get the ball rolling lol...
i sometimes look at my old minedai stuff too i wont lie.... im very good at making things for myself to enjoy woah... but yeah do not be fooled... i still love them immensely.... so im glad those works still hold up for other people, it means a lot that theyre still good to an extent :)
as for fic recs not a weird question at all - happy birthday to this old thing i made back in august last year nothings changed LMAO
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I won't believe & accept that Wanda & Clint never talked again after Endgame.
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daincrediblegg · 25 days
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no you know what I'm going to scream about the stuff I talked about in the tags of this post publicly
I'm tired of the well-meaning "don't feel bad if your work only gets 20 notes your genius is what counts and do it for you!" bullshit. I've had a good handful of friends who have straight up DEACTIVATED in recent months because their work was not getting reblogged AT ALL. No, it wasn't from lack of not being well-liked, no it wasn't from lack of trying to make sure it was getting out there to the people they knew would engage with it. It was because no matter how much they were praised privately for their work, when push came to shove, absolutely NOBODY reblogged it and gave it the audience that it was due, and I'm tired of people shoving the "unsung genius" narrative as an excuse for it. Nothing excuses that. And the boop event really proved that.
because I know given the opportunity, indiscriminately pressing a button (sometimes 10 thousand times, as I did) is not beyond this website's capability. y'all loved doing that. and look at what it wrought. nothing but love and affection and happiness. just from a couple of quick clicks of a little paw button. sure. nobody knew who you booped but the other person (which is how likes used to work on this website, btw). there was an element of anonymity to it. but that is kind of the core of this website that no other social media platform still has: the ability to be anonymous. and hyper-curating a blog on here like you might on twitter or instagram to project an image is simply not viable. and hey. you wanna know a secret: literally nobody cares what you post or whether it goes with the "theme" of your blog or not. yeah. I know. CRAZY concept in this day and age. but literally. I myself have reblogged things that have had nothing to do with whatever I am currently fixated by and you know what happened to my follower count? not a damn thing. in fact, I actively try to reblog things specifically BECAUSE it's my friends who made them (even though I'm not always good at KEEPING UP WITH HOW MUCH THEY POST @prismatica-the-strange will NEVER GO UNRECOGNIZED by me).
And you know what fucking sucks? I have to deal with this too. surprise right? you ever wonder why I reblog fics or art I post like 20 times the day that I post them? do you ever wonder why I ask about tag lists and beg for asks all the time? IT'S BECAUSE EVEN I GET LIKE. 5 LIKES ON THE THINGS I POST. AND THE REST OF THE REBLOGS ARE MINE SO I CAN MAKE SURE THAT PEOPLE WHO WANT TO SEE WHAT I MAKE GET TO SEE IT. and I say that knowing that I'm certainly not an unpopular blog, or an unpopular writer. I know that people love the stories that I create. Hell, half of the people that I've talked to about lady terror have told me that they consider her to be canon (AND EVEN SOME!! THOUGHT SHE WAS!!! WITHOUT EVEN HAVING WATCHED THE SHOW! WHICH IS STILL SO SO WILD TO ME!!!) But especially in the last 4 years (which really dates this phenomenon), my posts, no matter how well received they've been amongst people I've talked to about them directly, I still go into the notes and at least half (often more than half) are MY reblogs to make sure people saw what I posted. and it happens every single time, and I can't tell you how much it crushes me considering that it used to be that I would be able to post it only once, and people would reblog it sometimes even HUNDREDS of times.
It's not about popularity. it never has been. it's not about anxiety. or shifting website cultures. even if you lurk, the simple fact is, that if you want people to keep making what you love. you have to reblog. your theme won't suffer because you reblogged a fanfiction that you really admire. your posting won't be ruined because you reblogged some fanart from someone in a different fandom. really. I promise. and if people do unfollow you for that? who needs em. followers come and go but you should NEVER have to cater to them. on this website it has ALWAYS been the other way around. lean into it. make it yours. put stuff you ACTUALLY WANT to be seen and that you love and appreciate on your blog. no matter how old it is, how new it is, no matter how niche or off-theme it is.
so please. if you really want to show your appreciation for someone's work? you reblog. it's really as easy as that. check the tags. add some when you reblog if you like. but please for the love of god reblog. it's as easy as booping and even more rewarding for the people who you reblog from. if you want to let someone know that their work is genius and appreciate it? show it. reblog. then DM them if you're too nervous to say what you want to say but not in a public forum. but for christ's sake. REBLOG.
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august126 · 7 months
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enemies with benefits
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draco malfoy x female weasley reader
warnings: Hate Sex,Nicknames,Rivals With Benefits,Name-Calling,Insults,Nipple Play, and Nipple Licking
a/n:This is my first attempt at fanfiction so please be kind.and I tried with my grammar so  be gentle.
"Oh fuck, yes! y/n feet were lanted on the mattress next to Draco's hips, leaning back so his cock would slide all the way down to the base, press all the way to the back of her cunt.
She rode him so hard, arms wrapped around his neck for leverage, bucking against him almost violently.
Throat and cheeks red, sweat beading between her tits, sweet sounds spilling from her lips — Gods, it was like she was using him.
“That’s it, Red, take what you need,” Draco groaned, leaning forward mouthing her cute tits, swirling his tongue around one nipple and then switching the other.
“Stop calling — oh fuck, just like that, Malfoy! Damn it, stop calling me Red !”
Draco released her nipple with a wet pop, pretty pink and shining with his spit.
“Hm, what would you prefer then? Bitch? Whore? Slut?”
“Fuck you, Malfoy!” she spat, nails sharp against his skin as she ground down on his cock viciously.
“You already are, Red,” Draco drawled, feeling her pussy squeeze around him.
 She never commented on the nickname, but her body couldn’t lie to him.
“You’re dripping all over me, Red. You wanted to fuck so bad, hm? Needed my cock that much?
Draco slid his hand from her waist over her mound, pressing his thumb against her clit, letting her movements brush it against his thumb.
"Oh, oh my — ngh!" She was mindless. Whines and whimpers, eyes closed, brow furrowed in concentration as she smacked her ass against his thighs, riding him like a toy.
It was deliciously hot, watching her lost in lust — but annoying how she chose to ignore his taunts.
“weasley .” His voice was low and harsh as he pinched her clit lightly.
y/n squealed, her hips jumping up, pulling half his cock out of her and she glared at him.
“Malfoy, you rotten bastard!” She seethed,  “I was so close!”
“Oh, Red.” Draco pressed her hips down, forcing her to take his cock until their thighs touched. y/n was already panting, the edge in her eyes softening, her teeth plucking against the edge of her bottom lip as she started using her feet to rock back and forth against his cock. “You know better than to ignore me. That is, if you’d like to come.”
y/n froze, with her mouth parted for a moment, Draco smirking back at her.
And then she exploded, Weasley temper at full force.
“Who the hell do you think you are, Malfoy? You think just because you’re a little bit good at fucking, I have to answer you?! You aren’t shi — oh my Gods!”
Draco started fucking up into her, y/n hips automatic, meeting him thrust for thrust as she whimpered and moaned. Hot anger replaced with need as she bounced on his cock.
Draco hugged her body close, y/n wrapping her legs around his back now, as he used the give of the mattress to thrust up. Draco pressed his mouth against her neck, licking roughly and swallowing down the sweat.
“Yes, Merlin, yes, keep doing that, Draco,” her voice was light and breathy — so different from her usual tone, it was erotic in how sweet it was.
Draco groaned into her neck before using teeth, biting down just hard enough that y/n began squirming in his lap.
“Oh, oh.”
“You love that, don’t you, Red? When it’s a little rough like that?” Draco kissed the bruises he left on her neck, y/n thighs trembling against his own. She was so close, wet and fluttering around his cock.
y/n moved her hands from his neck, tangling in Draco's hair, pushing his head down back to her tits. Draco didn't fight her, kissing and sucking on her nipples, leaving them swollen and red as y/n moaned and ground down on his cock. Nasty, wet sounds echoing in the room from her dripping cunt sliding up and down his length.
“That’s it Red, fuck, squeeze around my cock just like that, love,” Draco murmured against her tits, looking up at y/n who stared back down at him, her eyes almost black with desire. “I can feel your pussy fluttering around me, so close aren’t you? Going to make a mess on my laps and ruin my sheets?”
y/n seemed to be lost for a moment, a beat filled with the sounds of wet cunt, her low moans, and squeaking mattress, until her nails dug painfully into his scalp.
She yanked his head back, glaring down at him once more, even with the haze of need and lust in her eyes. “Don’t. Call. Me. Love.”
Draco’s jaw dropped.
This witch, this fucking bitch!
A low growl spilled from Draco’s lips, bringing his hand up to one of her breasts, pinching and pulling on the nipple, rolling it between his fingers.
“You are beyond infuriating, y/n!” Draco hissed before he took her other nipple in his mouth, sucking hard, hollowing his cheeks, then swirling his tongue against it.
Draco saw the arrogant flash of her teeth, the same sort he remembered from his youth. Her fingers flexed in his hair once more, pressing his face into her breasts, encouraging his abuse of them as she rode on his cock. “I know, ferret. And I know how much it turns you on, too.”
Draco didn’t bother replying, instead biting down, harsh, on y/n nipple, her punishment and her reward. The witch shattering around him with a scream, her luscious cunt squeezing and milking him, until he came too with a groan.
y/n still clutched his head against her chest, both breathing deeply.
“I fucking hate that…ferret.”
y/n released his head, laughing as she leaned back. She ran her hand through her hair, pushing it back off her forehead. “Yeah? And what in Godric’s name are you going to do about it, ferret?”
Draco placed his hand between y/n legs, feather light against her clit, still sensitive. She hissed for a moment before relaxing her hips.
“I suppose I’ll need to fuck you stupid, until the only words that come out of your insolent little mouth are draco malfoy, ” he drawled, fingers circling on her clit now, y/n breath catching.
“A-are you going to keep barking, or actually do something, f-ferret?” y/n bit her lip, keeping a moan at bay and Draco almost laughed at her bravado.
“You’ve asked for it, love.”
And, cock hard once more, he thrust up into That perfect cunt.
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moki-dokie · 6 months
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been seeing some stuff on blue eye samurai and big yikes to nearly everyone pushing extremely western ideals onto these characters.
this is early edo period. 1600s. the japan you know now did not exist yet.
yall. please. there was NO concept of sexuality in pre-modern japan. that came with both the influx of christianity and western influence very very late in history. like, mid-1800s. (yes, there was christianity pre-1800s but it was not a widespread idea yet and wouldn't be until about the 1800s since, y'know, missionaries were routinely murdered before then)
"so and so is either bi and hasn't figured it out yet or..." no. that isn't how it worked then. nobody gave a shit what was between your legs. anyone could be attracted to anyone else. it was a little more common for male homosexual relationships to be between an adult and younger male - like many other places around the world - but two adult men could bang and love each other just as easily. relationships between women were quite common - especially since so many men were often away at war. there's tons of pornographic prints from the time depicting all manner of fun queer relationships. sex itself had absolutely no moral assignment to it. good sex was good health. it didn't matter who with. (well, social class/caste mattered more than anything else tbh but that didn't stop upper and lower class from fucking.) that isn't to say people didn't have preferences. of course they did. that is human nature. preferences arose more from physical appearance, caste, and circumstances with gender being about the last thing one would look for in a partner - romantic, casual, or otherwise. the only role in sex where gender actually mattered was for procreation.
there would be no queer awakening moment, no sudden switch flipped, no stigma to have internal conflicts about because it simply did not exist as a concept whatsoever. you were either attracted to a person or you weren't, it was that simple. gender played no role when it came to sex and sexual attraction. the japanese were lightyears ahead of western cultures in this particular area - like most cultures were before christianity came in and ruined everything with its backwards morals and strict good/evil dichotomy.
yall have got to realize queer rep will not and should not always adhere by modern western standards. there was no straight, gay, bi, or anything else of the sort. the closest they ever got was referring to roles during sex - as in who is giving and who is receiving.
i know this is mostly a made up story but it is still set within a very specific time period and culture, which should be honored and respected by not making it fit into our box. tons of research went into making this show historically accurate (albeit with some discrepancies but tbh they aren't really that huge) right down to the calligraphy writing. please please please don't whitewash the culture from these characters.
i say this mainly because without this knowledge, so many of you are going to build these characters up on a foundation they aren't meant to be on and then you'll rage about queerbaiting and bad queer rep if it isn't somehow super explicitly stated, if it doesn't match your very modern, very western ideal of what queer looks like. don't try to force this plot and narrative and characters into something they canonically and historically aren't. headcanons are a thing, AUs are a thing, fanfiction is a thing - leave your western thinking for those and let these characters simply exist as they should otherwise. this is one of those times where the queerness really does not need to be examined at all beyond what we get.
i know it can be hard to wrap your head around - sexuality is such a huge part of our identity in the western world and has slowly started to spread amongst other parts of the world in importance. but just keep in mind with these particular characters, that concept would be so very alien to them.
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xxxdreamscapexxx · 8 months
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Sweet trouble
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Pairing: Step!Mother Wanda Maximoff x Fem!Reader
Word count: 12.7k
Summary: Being left home alone is the perfect time to catch up on all your secret activities. What you don't expect is that your Step Mother has secrets of her own, or that you'll stumble on them accidentally. What will happen when she finds out you've been going through her things?
Warning: NSFW, 18+, lesbian relationship, Stepcest?, masturbation, edging, teasing, oral, fingering, finger sucking, Mommy!Kink, top!Wanda, Bottom!Reader
Masterlist with all my works.
When you woke up this morning, you never, in your wildest dreams imagined that one of your most secret, most shameful desires will come true. It was something you had only seen in fanfiction and maybe twisted porn, but never believed real people did, or that it could in fact, happen to you. Truthfully, if someone had told you such a thing will happen, you would have scoffed and called them crazy.
But you were getting ahead of yourself. Your morning started the way it often did during the summer. You got up and walked down the stairs, to find Wanda sipping her coffee and scrolling through her phone. As usual, she put it away as soon as she saw you and she greeted you warmly.
Wanda Maximoff was your stepmother. She had married your father a little over 4 years ago, but you had known her for almost 5 and despite having a rocky start with the woman, you actually had a great relationship with her. She was warm and sweet and she never treated you like a child, nor did she try to “replace” your actual mother, who did her best to stay in your life. In fact, Wanda treated you with respect and kindness and you soon saw her as a friend.
Well… That wasn’t entirely true. You started seeing her as a friend at first, but over the years that connection shifted. She talked to you about the things your parents never wanted to, she always listened without prejudice or judgement and gave amazing advice. She also cared about your interests and she supported all your hobbies and little projects and she even often helped you.
Wanda was there when you decided to make a replica of the “T.A.R.D.I.S” from “Doctor Who” and spent an entire weekend helping you build it, so it would end up perfect, she watched every scary movie you asked for, because you could never bring yourself to do it on your own, and even though you were both scared, she always pretended not to be. For your sake. And then, when you were too scared to sleep alone, she pretended to fall asleep on the couch and let you snuggle into her, even if her back hurt the next day. She encouraged your writing, she read every book you ranted about… She supported you when you came out. For all those things and so much more, you gave Wanda your love.
Unfortunately for you, those were also the reasons why at some point, you stopped seeing Wanda as a friend and started seeing her as the woman of your dreams. Yes, cheesy. But true. And that idea gnawed at you ever since you stopped trying to lie to yourself.
The truth is, you spent way more time with Wanda than your father ever did. He was good, a good man and a good father, but his work often had him travelling for long. When you were young, he often took the whole family with him. Had private tutors for you, made sure you were educated by the best and brightest and the love of learning connected you together. But as you grew older, that life drove your mother away. To make the matters worse, he realized you needed stability just around the same time he met Wanda and soon, you were left in the big house, surrounded by housekeeping and your new stepmother, while he was away for months at a time. But at least he let you attend high school, instead of hiring more tutors, so you wouldn’t feel so alone.
You often wondered why Wanda chose to be with him when you, his daughter, knew more about her, spent more time with her and, you were sure, loved her far more than he did. But you never dared to ask and she never spoke of that, preferring to focus on you instead and you reciprocated that interest. You watched her favourite sitcoms with her, spent afternoons making pottery with her, which resulted in way too many crooked ceramic mugs in your home that you never knew what to do with, but loved too much to throw away. You taught her calligraphy, after you showed her your first story and she declared that you have the “prettiest handwriting” and asked you to teach her. In turn, she gave you cooking lessons, because her food was by far, the best thing you had tasted, until it became a tradition that you made dinner together.
God, you shared so much of your life, so much of yourself with the woman, you gave so much of yourself to her, that it shouldn’t have come as such a surprise that you ended up falling for her. And her way with you didn’t help matters either. And yes, it wasn’t something outrageous. It was little things, like the way she’d hold you, pulling you closer into her side during movie nights, which by the way were almost every night. It was the way she sat with you on the couch in the study, reading her book while you did homework, mindlessly playing with your hair, it was her protective on the small of your back, when you felt surrounded by people, the way she always knew when you needed her to step in and save you from strangers, or the soft way she held your hand when you went somewhere together…
It was never one thing. It was a million little things and each one had you falling more and more deeply in love with her, until you couldn’t deny it anymore. You realized it during your junior year, when all your friends wouldn’t shut up about boys and their crushes and all you would think about was Wanda. What plans you had with her, what you’d watch with her, what meal you’ll be making together, where you’d go over the weekend… It was all Wanda. Even in your dreams. And to make matters worse, those dreams soon manifested into your waking hours, flooding your thoughts with nothing but her.
Now, the beginning of summer after senior year, when you had decided to take a gap year before college and focus on yourself, your writing, perhaps even travelling, you were fully aware that you wanted none of those things without her. You hadn’t booked a single destination, because you hadn’t yet the courage to ask if she’d join you. You had stopped showing her your stories, because they were all about her and despite your best efforts had turned highly suggestive and then straight up erotic, up to the point that they no longer soothed you, when you thought of Wanda, but rather left you even more turned on and needy.
The neediness, unfortunately for you, had been another new development. No matter how many cold showers you took, how many times you masturbated to thoughts of her, the ache between your legs never quite went away. Actually, every time you’d see her, every night when she cuddled you and played you a movie, every evening when you helped her make dinner, each hot afternoon spent at the pool with her, left you a horny mess.
Today, after you helped Wanda make breakfast, that the two of you shared, she asked you if you’d like to go out with her. She had some errands to do and she promised to make it fun, despite the tediousness, offering you lunch at your favourite restaurant, or perhaps a small shopping trip in the afternoon, but you declined, opting to stay home instead.
To be fair, you wanted to go with her, you wanted to spend every second you could with her, but being left home alone meant that you could perhaps catch up on your writing without her seeing you and asking to read your story, or finally take care of the ache between your legs that lately never went away, but you were never alone for… Maybe even do it, the way you so often longed for, but never could… God, you were a twisted girl. But you couldn’t help it. You just wanted her so much.
Wanda seemed a little bit surprised and frankly disappointed by your refusal, but she took a deep breath and she wished you a nice day, before she took her purse and her car keys, phone tucked in the back pocket of her tightly fitted jeans and she left, putting on her stylish sunglass, before opening the front door and disappearing from your view.
As soon as she was gone, you rushed to the study, reaching out behind a cluster of old, dusty books and taking out the Paperblanks hardcover journal dedicated to Edgar Allan Poe that she got you as a gift. It was beautiful and stylish and filled with all the stories you wrote about her.
As soon as the notebook fell open, you saw the last page you had written on and your fingers traced the last paragraph, reading through it. “You don’t hesitate when your fingers lace with my hair, your grip firm as you hold me in place and you study my face. My mouth open, my tongue sticking out as it awaits your dripping pussy...” Yes, you remember that and your legs instantly cross over each-other at the wave of arousal, but you keep it at bay.
For the next few hours all you do is write. Your fantasies running rampant and free and filling the pages. It was almost a trans-like state, your hand moving almost on its own while the images in your head played out in front of your eyes. It felt freeing to be able to “share” your thoughts somehow, even if no one ever saw them and you only reluctantly stopped, when your stomach growled for food and your hand was cramping.
You made your way to the kitchen, groaning, your writing session had left you wet and so needy, that despite your instincts and Wanda’s voice in your head, telling you to eat something heathy and filling, you pulled out a fruit yogurt with mango and maracuja and ate it, leaning on the counter, wanting to stretch your legs a little.
Finished with your “meal”, you headed upstairs, making your way to the bedrooms. Yours was at the end of the hall and you headed for it, but stopped mid-way, when you saw Wanda’s bedroom door was slightly ajar and you stopped right in front of it, debating with yourself. You knew you shouldn’t go in, that it was an invasion of her privacy, but your heart was so full of longing for her that you eventually reasoned, that you’ll only look around… Just get her scent in your nostrils and leave.
As soon as you walked in, your eyes started to search the unfamiliar space. It’s not that you’ve never been here, but the room was so alien to you, one you’d spent the least time in, that it almost didn’t feel right. You certainly never dared be so inquisitive, when Wanda was there with you.
Your eyes scanned every object, every photo, most of which were of you and Wanda and you allowed yourself to breathe in the aroma of everything Wanda. It smelled like clean sheets and her favourite vanilla and Himalayan magnolia air freshener, like her perfume and just something uniquely her. God, you’d roll around in it if you could.
Everything seemed so perfectly in order, her bed made and without a single crinkle in it, the room so pristine and clean. It was lovely, and your heart skipped a beat at the thought that you wished you could wake up here, next to her each morning.
Walking further into the room, your curiosity almost entirely satisfied now, you ran your fingers over the objects she had on display. Souvenirs from trips the two of you had went to, her certificate for completing a “beginners” course in Latin dances, that she only went to for you and that you had stopped attending, because you hated how every man in the studio drooled over her, the ceramic figurine of a cute bear that you made her one time, a bowl of sea shells that the two of you had collected last summer at the beach…
You were just about ready to leave, when the sight of a drawer, half-open and because of that seeming out of place, caught your attention. Everything was so perfectly in order in this room, that it looked so strange to see it left like this and you went to it thoughtlessly, pulling it open to inspect its content, only to gasp in surprise at what you found there.
It was full of toys. Sex toys, to be exact and you couldn’t help but stumble backwards a little at seeing just how many there were. Dildos in all colours, shapes and sizes and made from different materials were organized, each in its individual place. Handcuffs, soft Velcro cuffs and steal, regular ones easily distinguished. Ropes, blindfolds, some butt plugs, vibrators, lube, a couple of harnesses and even other things that you couldn’t name or guess the intended use of, could be seen laid out and you studied them with deep curiosity.
Did Wanda use all these? Did she lay here, in her big, soft bed and play with herself at night? What did she think about? Who did she picture in her fantasies, when she buried one of these toys inside herself? Did she do it slowly, or did she like it rough? How did it feel to be stretched out and full?
As your mind was flooded with questions, you mindlessly got closer, your hand reaching into the drawer and your fingertips grazing a rather large, realistic looking dildo. You’d never actually seen toys in real life, so the sensation was both strange and exhilarating. Sure, you were 19 now and could buy them if you wanted to, but the thought just never appealed to you.
You just couldn’t picture it. You’d never had anything other than two of your fingers inside yourself and it had already felt too much. You couldn’t even imagine what something so big would feel like or would do to you. Did Wanda enjoy the feeling of them? Did she ever wear her harness and bury one of these inside someone or did she like to be on the receiving end? You certainly liked to imagine yourself on the receiving end of one of her toys, especially after you learned of her past with women. She had shared those details when you came out to her, hoping to soothe you and help you feel like you’re not alone, but you never imagined that you’ll one day walk into your stepmother’s bedroom and find so many toys, or that you’ll find yourself wishing you could see her play with them… God, the one you reached for looked so big, so thick in your hand. That could never fit inside you.
Yet the thought of Wanda stepping into her harness and picking out a dildo from her collection, while you waited for her in the bed, spread out and so needy for her, had your legs squeezing together in search for relief. Would she tie you down? Would she be sweet and soft? Would she use her fingers and her mouth? What would it feel like to have your arms wrapped around her, to be able to kiss her, as she had her way with you?
Fuck, you needed relief. And you needed it now. And you knew you should just go to your room and do what you always did, but this time you couldn’t. You couldn’t just close your eyes and picture Wanda, when here, in her room, all your senses were surrounded by her.
You hesitated for a moment, considering the danger, but it was still early and all the staff had the next few weeks off, so you knew you’ll be all alone. You could just… Lie down. Not even under the covers, just on top of her sheets and maybe pull your panties to the side. They were all wet already. You’ll just pull your dress up and take care of that ache and then you’ll fix Wanda’s bed and leave.
You knew it was a bad idea, but in your brain, clouded by lust, you couldn’t help yourself and gave in. So you did exactly as you planned, the skirts of your dress bunched up around your waist, your panties pulled to the side, while your fingers circled your clit. You lay on your stomach, you face buried in Wanda’s pillow and inhaling her scent as your mind filled with images of her. It was wonderful. God, it was heavenly. But it wasn’t enough. Before you knew it, you had made yourself orgasm twice already, but the desperate feeling never went away. You needed more.
You slowly turned, laying on your back, your hand finding its way back to your clit, but it was only a measure to keep you calm while you thought. What could you do? And almost like fate, your face turned to the open drawer full of toys and an idea sparked inside you. You could… No, that was an extremely bad idea. It was wrong… But maybe, it could help?
Getting up, telling yourself you’ll only take a quick look, you made your way back to the drawer and looked inside. You had no idea how to choose, so you trusted your instincts, picking a fairly small, pink dildo that seemed to look cute and entirely forgetting what a terrible idea this was, you made your way back to Wanda’s bed with giddiness, lying on your back and looking the toy over for a moment, before reaching down.
You rubbed the toy’s head against your opening, getting it slick with your juices and teasing your clit a little, before you started to slowly push it inside. The stretch felt unfamiliar, the toy, despite being small, still being larger than your fingers and you took your time to let it sink in deeper, allowing your pussy some time to adjust to it.
In just a few minutes, you had it fully inside you, the base pressing against your opening and oh, it was perfect. It was exactly what you needed and you quickly reached down with your free hand, finding your clit and adding the extra stimulation. Thoughts of Wanda quickly made their way into your head and you started to imagine the older woman doing exactly what you did to yourself, her hands working you perfectly, while her velvety voice wrapped around you and made you lose yourself entirely.
Taking your time to let it unfold, your body buzzing with excitement and pleasure, your muscles tightening, you knew you were about to have one of the best orgasms of your life, when suddenly, you heard the front door open and shortly after shut itself.
Fuck!
Sitting up, you heard Wanda’s keys land in the bowl with yours and your nervous anxiety hit a new high, when she called out your name form the living room.
Fuck!
She’d start looking for you soon, if you didn’t act quickly! God, what do you do? You needed to get out of there!
Your eyes roamed around the room nervously, toy still buried inside you and you knew you couldn’t put it back like that, covered in your slick! She’ll see it eventually and then she’ll know what you did. In the rush of the moment, you did the only thing you thought would be smart. You put your panties back where they belonged, seeing the imprint of the dildo against them and you got out of her bed. You tried to smoothen it as much as you could, but you herd her voice call out your name again, this time from the kitchen and you knew she’ll come up the stairs next. In a rush, you just closed her drawer and practically ran out, leaving the door slightly ajar as it was and you hesitated if you should go to your room, but before you could make your way there, you heard Wanda’s steps as she ascended the stairs and you knew there will be no time.
Closing your eyes for a moment, wiping your sweaty palms on your dress and feeling the fullness as you tried to calm your nerves, you committed to the decision you knew you had to make and despite every instinct of yours, you rushed towards her, meeting her just as she was at the top of the stairs.
“Ah, Y/N, there you are! I was calling you.” She smiled as she saw you, reaching out to give you a hug.
“Yeah, I heard you, I was just coming to meet you.” You manage to say, forcing a smile.
“Are you all right, honey?” The older woman’s eyebrows furrowed. “You look a little flushed.” She said with concern, one of her hands reaching out to feel your forehead. “And you feel warm too.” She determined, her eyes scanning you.
“Yeah, I’m all good.” You tried to reassure her, still practically blocking the older woman’s path.
“You sure?” Wanda asked once more, concern evident in her eyes and you tried to calm your nerves.
“I promise.” You tried to say with conviction and hoping your knees wouldn’t buckle.
“Ok, honey, but if you feel unwell, you’ll tell me, right?”
“Of course.” You smiled warmly and, seeing that the woman seemed to be going to her room, the place where you had just been, you tried to dissuade her. “Hey, I was wondering, could we have pasta for dinner today? The one with the special sauce you make?”
“Sure, honey.” Wanda beamed, her hand stroking your cheek softly before she moved past you. “Let me go get changed and we’ll go make it together.” She suggested.
Not wanting to seem weird, you let the woman pass and after watching her enter her bedroom, you actually relaxed a little, thinking that you could use this time to go back to your own room and pull out the dildo still nestled inside you, when her voice forced you to stiffen once more.
“Hey, honey, why don’t you go and take out the vegetables from the fridge and start washing them? I’ll be right down.” Wanda called out, interrupting your train of thought and destroying any chance you had of going through with disposing of the cursed toy.
“Ok.” You called out, facing the stairs defeatedly.
In your guilt over what you did, you felt like you couldn’t risk saying “no” and going to your room instead, not wanting to rouse Wanda’s suspicion. So, a little wobbly on your legs and feeling even more aroused than when you first went in her bedroom, you walked down the stairs, doing exactly as she asked, planning how to excuse yourself later and pull the damned thing out of you.
Wanda walked into her bedroom and started to unbutton her shirt, asking you to start dinner as she went, but suddenly stopped, her eyes narrowing. It wasn’t that there was something particularly wrong, it’s just that something felt out of place and she couldn’t quite put her finger on it.
Shrugging, she tossed her shirt on an empty chair and started to take off her jeans next, leaving herself in just her underwear and going to the closet to pick out more comfy clothes. She put on a pair of black sweats and took out a dark red top that she knew you loved and put it over her head, turning to leave, when her eyes narrowed again.
Her bed was all wrinkled and the covers were looking lumpy and it bothered her somehow. Did she leave it like this today? She leaned down and started to fix it, her hands smoothing the covers and tucking them in as she always did, when her palm ran over a damp spot. Now this really caught her attention and she inspected it more closely.
It looked like a small wet spot, more visible now that she knew to look for it and she wasn’t sure what to make of it. Had you been here? But why would you be on her bed? That didn’t make sense, until a realization came over her, like pieces of a puzzle coming together. Your flushed face, the way you tried to block her path, how out of breath you seemed and this… The state of her bed… She suddenly straightened, rushing to her drawer.
As soon as she opened it, she knew what you had done. She knew her collection very well, knew exactly what she owned and where it was, so the absent pink dildo was like a glaring hole in the middle of her drawer. But why hadn’t you put it back? Had she gotten home and interrupted you? That seemed more and more likely and at the thought, she could only sigh.
Wanda was a lot of things, but stupid just wasn’t one of them. She realized you had a crush on her somewhere around the end of your junior year and at first the thought scared her. Sure, she had noticed you turning into a beautiful young woman, she wasn’t blind, and you had already shared with her that you were gay, but she never imagined you’d develop feelings towards her. Naturally, she thought it was simple curiosity. You were growing, it was normal. It would probably go away on its own. You were surrounded by girls your own age, with young bodies and unburdened by life, so she believed you’d soon move on.
But as time passed those lingering looks you gave her started to be accompanied by something else. A kind of longing in your eyes, a kind of shy almost hope that she couldn’t quite place. Until eventually she did. Wanda knew you better than anyone in the world, she knew what made you tick and as she watched your gaze follow her, while she sipped wine, your eyes fixed on her lips and your legs squeezing together, she realized that your relationship with her had changed. You saw her differently.
That thought scared Wanda more than she ever expected and she excused herself quickly, practically running to her bedroom and burying her face in her pillow and her first thoughts were for you. She felt terrible, imagining how scared you must be, how sad and disheartened to be infatuated with your father’s wife. She kept thinking about how alone you must feel, not being able to tell anyone. How heart wrenching it must be to spend every day with her and know she was with another.
In her eyes you were her girl and she held so much love for you that the knowledge that she caused such feelings inside you, that she caused you so much pain, was devastating to her. After realizing what really bothered you, she spent so many sleepless nights, thinking of you. And in her love, she thought the best thing for you would be to pull away from you.
Yes, she didn’t love your father anymore… If ever. He was hardly ever home, hardly ever spending any time with her, always promising to retire, but never doing so… The only reason she stayed all this time was always you. She married him because she wanted a family, never expecting that she’ll find that in you. And when she had… Well… That made her choice very easy. But you were such a young girl. An old soul, admittedly, but still so young. She couldn’t let you spend those sweet years pining over your stepmother. So pull away she did.
Little did she know how devasted you’d be, feeling her absence as a hole in your heart and crying so many nights, when you thought that she no longer wanted your presence. She watched your heartbreak from afar, hating herself for it, yet thinking it would be for the best, until one night, when she heard you speak to one of your friends on the phone.
Your broken voice almost made her cry then and there and she vowed to never do that to you again. So she made sure that things went back to normal, to the routine the two of you had, but she never quite stopped noticing how the love in you bloomed.
The summer vacation after your junior year she spent entirely with you, having a grand time going to the beach, sunbathing, while you read books and drank cocktails together. Yours virgin, of course. But she’d let you have a sip from hers every once in a while, to indulge your curiosity. She’d rather let you drink with her and make sure you’re safe.
Then came your 18th birthday and the party you hosted at the house, you and your friends having fun around the pool and she thought that with all these people around you, you’d lose interest, but you never did. After everyone was gone, all you wanted was to cuddle up to her on the couch and watch your favourite movie with her. You always preferred her to anyone else, chose to stay home and try new recipes, rather than go out and she thought that perhaps this thing you felt for her was serious.
And once that knowledge settled inside her, it no longer bothered her. And with acceptance came something else. Something she never thought she had in her. A kind of curiosity of her own.
Obviously, she was flattered to know you had such feelings for her. You were a young, sweet thing, your life was just starting and she… How could she take advantage of you?
Then again, you didn’t make it easy for her. The way young girls did, you flirted boldly, openly and in gestures of sudden bravery. You flaunted yourself to her whenever you got the chance. Wearing skimpy bathing suits and even asking her to fix the strings for you, asking her to go shopping with you and dragging her into lingerie stores, showing her different sets and asking her opinion, wearing short dresses and tight shorts whenever she was around, which happened to be all the time… Asking her to watch scary movies with you in your room, cuddling into her in nothing but your panties and a t-shirt and then asking her to stay when you were too scared to stay alone.
Ugh, you were a tease. She’d feel you wiggle unnecessarily, so you’d “settle” and you’d blush furiously anytime she so much as looked at you. She’d wake up with your back pressed against her front, your ass pressed up against her as you slept happily, and every time you’d pull one of those stunts, she’d feel you chip away at her resolve.
You were so soft, so sweet, such a delicate thing, your skin smooth and flawless under her fingertips. Whenever you’d ask her to stay with you, falling asleep on her shoulder, she couldn’t help but stroke the exposed skin of your bare arms, the length of your thighs, just to feel you. It was a small action, was it not? Done out of curiosity. And it soothed her to be able to get this small thing for herself, since she had promised herself not to take you entirely.
Your last year of high school passed like that, with you parading yourself and eventually Wanda broke. She told herself she’d never make a move on you. It was wrong, but she needed an outlet for her frustration. That’s how she first spent a night thinking of you while she touched herself. Not that thoughts of you hadn’t crossed her mind before, but she always pushed them away. But when she no longer could, that one action broke the dam.
The images of you flooded her mind constantly and she found herself seeking relief in the privacy of her bedroom, imagining she had you to play with. She thought of all the gloriously depraved things she could do to you, the things she could teach you and all the ways she could corrupt you. It would be so sweet.
It got worse as your feelings progressed and she’d often wake to the sounds of your moans in the middle of the night. The first time such a thing happened she rushed to your room, thinking maybe you’re in pain, only to see you sprawled on your bed, legs spread wide and your hand moving furiously in your panties. You thought you were being quiet, that you were being subtle, but honestly, she could sometimes make out the way you called her name as you made yourself cum.
Now, looking in her drawer of toys and realizing what you’d done, she tried to let it go, but she just couldn’t. You went behind her back, sneaked into her bedroom, snooped through her things, used her toys and masturbated on her bed. As much as she was impressed by your boldness and surprised to find that your desire for her went that far, she was furious. You didn’t even have the decency to hide it well! Why didn’t you just wash the toy and put it back? Did you still have it? Ugh, she was angry!
She knew you probably didn’t mean for it to go this far, but she just couldn’t help it. How was she meant to stay away from you, to keep her resolve and refrain from marching down and fucking you senseless, when you did such things? She had to teach you a lesson.
Her fingers clenching over the edge of the drawer, knuckles turning white, Wanda was ready to slam it shut and storm down the stairs, when her eyes landed on a pink remote control. It was for the dildo you had used and she was surprised you hadn’t taken that too, before she realized you probably had no idea it had a vibrating function. Or maybe you hadn’t gotten that far. Who knows? Either way, an idea sparked into her head and she decided to test a theory and if she was right, tonight she’ll teach you a lesson and pay you back for every time you’d teased her, every time you paraded yourself in front of her, every time you tempted her and made her crave you.
In the back of her head, she knew what this decision meant. She knew she wouldn’t be able to stop herself. If she went through with it, she’d go all the way. Closing her eyes and breathing in, she tried to think clearly, but she had reached the end of her restraint, the end of her self-control. She couldn’t pretend that she didn’t want this anymore. She had to have you.
Taking the small remote control, she put it in the pocket of her sweats and she walked down the stairs. She found you prepping the vegetables, just as she asked, your cheeks still flushed, but you tried to act as normal as possible. With a smile, Wanda did the same, starting to make the dough for the homemade pasta and starting up a light conversation with you.
“So, honey, what did you do today?” She asked sweetly.
“Oh you know, just normal things…” You trailed off as your legs squeezed together.
“Yeah? Did you finish the new book I told you about?”
“No, not yet. But almost. I’m so excited to see what happens.” You tried to feign interest, but Wanda knew you. You hadn’t read a page. “What about you, did you have a nice day?”
“Nice isn’t how I’d describe it. But I’m glad to be home.” She responded shortly. “You know, sweetie, why don’t you get the sauce started and leave it on the stove, I’ll watch it while I make the dough and you can sit down. You still look a little flushed.” She suggested and you sighed with relief at her offer, doing as she asked, finishing as quickly as possible and making your way to a chair in the kitchen, sitting down and watching her cook, the way you have so many times before.
Except, as soon as you sat, you realized it was a mistake. The dildo, still nicely nestled inside you, was pressed against the surface of the chair and pushed as deeply as it could go, causing you to let out a small whimper at the feeling of being so full and even with her back to you, Wanda knew that her suspicion was right.
“What was that, dear?” She turned to look at you for a moment, your legs squeezing together so tightly your muscles shook.
“N-nothing…” You stuttered out, a hand gripping the edge of the table.
My, you were so responsive. You must have been close, if you were this worked up. How delightful. Wanda was going to have so much fun with you.
Unaware of how closely you were being watched, or of the wicked plan your stepmother had formulated for you, you started to gently rock on the chair, the movement bringing brief relief to the aching between your legs. But Wanda wasn’t going to let you just fuck yourself right in front of her. If anyone was going to fuck you tonight, it was going to be her.
Reaching into her pocket, she felt around for the buttons of the remote control and she turned it on and let it start at the lowest setting. Your reaction was instantaneous. You gasped, trying to do it quietly and softly, but she heard you none the less.
Feeling the dildo start to vibrate had you stiffen on the chair. God, did your slow grinding press the start button on the device? It was possible. Now you felt the gentle hum of the lowest setting and it drove you crazy. Perhaps with some concentration you could ignore feeling the toy inside you, but you couldn’t contain yourself like this. It was nestled at the deepest parts of you and vibrating against an especially sensitive spot and it had you shaking.
“Wanda, I think I’m going to lie down.” You suddenly said, swallowing hard and preparing yourself to stand.
“Oh, sweetheart!” She gasped when she turned to you. You looked a mess and it was absolutely breath-taking. She always wanted to see you like this. Now that she was so close, she wasn’t going to let you slip away so quickly. “What’s wrong? You seem even more flushed. And your forehead is so hot, baby, maybe you should lie down on the couch, so I can take care of you.” She suggested with concern. “I’ll bring you a cool cloth for your forehead and a glass of water.” She suggested, offering you her hand and guiding you to the couch.
“No, you don’t have to do that, I’ll just lie down upstairs for a bit.” You tried to protest, following her lead on instinct, despite your wish to escape to your room, but she was having none of it.
“But, sweetie, you can barely walk.” She argued, guiding you to the couch. “Look at that, you’re shaking. Lie down here for me, honey. I’ll take care of you.” She suggested, helping you lie down.
She went to grab you a glass of water, just as she promised and, on her way back, she watched you squirm and try to contain the sensations going through your body. When she made you drink at least some of the water, she left the glass on the table and she went to get you a cool cloth for your forehead, but not before sticking her hand in her pocket and increasing the speed of the vibrator.
A loud moan graced her ears just as she did it and she could hardly contain her smirk as she walked back to you.
“Now, honey, you stay here and rest and I’ll go check on dinner and I’ll be right back, ok?” She explained with a soft voice and she stroked your cheek affectionately, basking in the state you were in.
Your cheeks were burning with a mixture of arousal and shyness, your whole body squirming with need, even your hips bucking, when you thought Wanda wasn’t looking, loving the stimulation, yet needing so much more. Fuck, she could play with you like this for hours. If she had it her way, she’d strip you down first, of course, but there was plenty of time for that later. She’d watch you writhe and make you beg to be allowed to cum, push you to admit what you did and then tease you some more as punishment for it. And once you’ve surrendered, she’d make you cum over and over again, until you can’t take anymore. She’ll take your shaking little body upstairs and help you get cleaned up, so she can cuddle you to sleep. But she was getting ahead of herself.
She went to check on the pasta and the sauce you were making, stirring the pots and making sure that it wouldn’t get burned. She often looked at you at the corner of her eye, watching you writhe and, deciding to take pity on you, she clicked the off button on the remote control in her pocket, seeing you instantly settle in both relief and frustration. It was obvious you wanted more, that you needed that orgasm badly, but you didn’t want to get caught and Wanda smirked to herself. She’ll make you beg for an orgasm soon enough.
In the next minutes she let you rest, while she set up the table and finished dinner, not wanting to overwhelm you too much too early. She came over to you carefully, checking to see if you managed to put yourself together and you indeed looked much better. The frustration from the teasing and edging was obvious, but other than that you were holding up quite well and she smiled.
“Hey, honey, how are you feeling?” She asked softly. “Do you think you can come to the dinner table, so we can eat, or should I bring your food here?” She suggested, smiling.
“I’ll come to the table.” You agreed, removing the damp cloth from your forehead and taking her hands, so you could stand.
“Ok, baby, wash your hands and let’s eat.” She smiled softly at you.
Once you settled, poorly hiding a whimper when the dildo was once again pressed into your depths and against your most sensitive spots, you struggled to find topics for a conversation, but Wanda distracted you, telling you about her day and keeping your mind occupied while you ate. It was still hard to keep your urge to grind down on the toy sometimes, especially when Wanda would look at you with those pretty green eyes and swirl the wine in her glass, before sipping it. How could she be so sensual without even trying?
“Wanda, I think I’ll head upstairs. I feel tired.” You tried to excuse yourself after the meal was finished.
“Oh, really?” She said with disappointment in her voice. “You sure? I was thinking we could watch a movie together.” She suggests, pouting at you cutely and melting your heart.
“I don’t know…” You hesitated, wanting to stay, but feeling your walls contract around the dildo inside you and almost making your legs buckle.
“Maybe for a bit?” She offered with hope in her eyes. “You lie down and pick anything you want to watch and I’ll make us some popcorn. If you’re still not feeling well, I’ll help you upstairs.”
You tried to refuse her, you really did, but the truth was, that you could never say “no” to Wanda Maximoff. She was your greatest weakness and you knew you’d do anything she asks, no matter what, so you settled onto the couch, searching through the movie options and finding one that looked promising, while she brought over the big bowl of popcorn she made, sitting down next to you and pulling you into her side, just as she always did, kissing the top of your head affectionately.
You played the movie, trying to distract yourself and reminding yourself that all you had to do is get through the movie with her and then you’ll go to your room and have all the orgasms you wanted. It was just a couple of hours with Wanda.
But you’d barely gotten through the intro, when the vibrator came to life with a sudden buzz and you had to refrain from grinding against the couch at how good it felt. But that’s all the restraint you could show and you quickly realized Wanda was looking at you with concern.
“What’s the matter, sweetie? Is everything all right?”
You barely nodded, pretending to watch, when all you could do was do your best to stay still in Wanda’s hold. God, how did this thing turn on again? How do you stop it, before you have an orgasm, right there, sitting next to the woman you were desperately in love with? Worse! What if she hears the vibration? Could she hear it right now?
It was driving you crazy and holding back became increasingly difficult as time passed, your breathing going more erratic and just when you thought that it will happen, regardless if you wanted to or not, the vibrations suddenly stopped.
“Did you say something, honey?” Wanda turned to you once more, making you realize that you had whined pretty loudly.
“N-no.” You stutter out, shaking your head and she barely contains the smirk forming on her face, before it gives away just how much she’s enjoying this.
She gives you a break, letting you calm down, before she turns on the vibrator again, startling you and this time you look at her, trying to see if she actually noticed, but Wanda had her attention on the TV.
The damned thing was driving you crazy, but you couldn’t help a thought that crept into your mind. Why does it keep going on and off? Was it you? You were sitting pretty still… And then another, more shocking thought sparkled in your mind. Could Wanda? No, that was absurd. Even if she found out you took it, how would she know you still had it inside you? Would she do this on purpose?
As you turned to her, studying her expression, you couldn’t imagine Wanda doing such a thing. But you had to know for sure. So you waited for that moment when you got close, your body starting to lose some of its control and just as you were about to fall off the edge, the toy stopped, leaving you desperate and needy, extremely frustrated and utterly shocked. Did she just put her hand in her pocket? Did she have the remote there?
You had a million questions almost clouding your brain and you had no idea how to ask, no idea how to approach that subject, scared that if you were wrong, you’ll give yourself away, when Wanda suddenly turned to you.
“I see you finally figured it out.” She said in a low, raspy voice, smiling. She was almost predatory with the way she was looking at you, her soft green eyes now full of intensity. “Don’t you know that taking someone else’s things without permission is wrong?” She asked, raising a brow at you expectantly.
“I… Wanda… It’s not…” You tried to say something coherent, putting a little distance between your bodies, but you were in a state of shock and you couldn’t find the right words to explain.
“Not what it looks like?” She finished the sentence for you, scoffing. “I highly doubt that. Or are you going to deny that you snooped through my bedroom and took something that doesn’t belong to you?” She asked sternly, her eyes fixing you.
“I… ” You tried again, the words never coming out. “I didn’t mean to!” You tried, knowing it was a useless protest.
“Well, what did you mean to do, sweetness, hm? Come on, explain it for me.” She challenged again, raising a brow at you impatiently.
She gave you some time to collect whatever was left of your thoughts and she waited for you to say something coherent, but nothing actually came. There was no excuse, and you knew it well.
“Wanda… Please.” You said quietly, not even sure what you were asking of her, just knowing that you couldn’t stand the way she was looking at you, couldn’t stand how disappointed she was.
“Should I tell you what I think happened, hm?” She asked, her tone having that stern edge again. And before you could answer, she continued. “Or are you going to tell me yourself?” She asked again, holding up the remote control that was previously sitting in her pocket. “Do you need a little incentive?” She asked with a predatory grin, a slender finger hovering over the start button. “Maybe another edge or two would loosen your tongue?” She suggested, almost turning the device on.
“Oh my God, Wanda, please, no! Please! I can’t take anymore!” You begged pitifully and her heart melted a little, knowing you’ve probably never been edged. Even now you had your legs squeezed together, your eyes fixed on the remote she was holding.
To be fair, Wanda never intended to be cruel with you. She only wanted to be kind towards you, but you had pushed her buttons today and it had brought out a side of her she never wanted to show you. And you had never earned such treatment from her either, so she found it hard to contain her emotions, but she took a deep breath and tried to soften her features.
“Please, I’ll never do that again!” You pleaded.
“Oh, I know, sweetheart.” She said with surprising gentleness, stroking your cheek affectionately. “I’ll make sure of that. But you’ll have to tell me why you did it.” She explained.
“I can’t…” You tried to protest again, voice shaking. How could you explain that you’re in love with her?
“If you can do it, you should be able to talk about it.” Wanda coaxed.
“Please, let me just go upstairs and I’ll clean everything up and…”
“Oh, no, it’s too late for that now.” Wanda interrupted you, knowing where you were trying to go with that thought. “You don’t get to pretend that nothing happened.” She added with a thoughtful expression. “You see… I tried to pretend that I don’t see the way you act, or your little skimpy outfits, or the way you look at me. I tried to pretend that I don’t hear you calling my name at night, when you touch yourself… I tried to stay away and be a good stepmother, a good wife… And then you go and do something like this… Tell me, Y/N, what should I do with you now, hmm?”
Her words, the way she said them… The admission that she knew of your feelings sent you spiralling all over again and you didn’t even know where to begin. What were you meant to say? What did she intend to do? Was she going to tell your father? God, you hoped she wouldn’t. Not even because you were so afraid of him, but because you were so afraid of losing her. You never wanted to lose her.
“It would be so wrong of me to take you.” Wanda continues, talking more to herself now, her words taking a surprising turn. “So wrong… But you make it so hard for me to resist you.” She confessed. “You’ve been driving me crazy.” She said in a low voice, getting closer to where you stood, cupping your chin with her fingers, so she could make sure that you’ll look at her. “Do you know how hard it has been? Watching you offer yourself to me so shamelessly, listening to your moans at night, hearing you call my name and having to stay away from you…” Wanda’s gaze had darkened, making your pussy throb around the vibrator inside you and leaving you even more needy and helpless in her hold. God, you wanted her! “Do you know how many nights I almost didn’t? Do you know how many nights I had to cum to your filthy little sounds, imagining that it was me, making you feel that good?” She asked, searching your face.
You couldn’t believe the words that kept coming out of her mouth, couldn’t believe that she would ever want the same thing you did, that she would even give you the time of day… You wondered if she really meant it. Yet she kept speaking, her words making the ache between your legs almost unbearable and the need to grind against the vibrator nestled inside you harder and harder to resist. You were ready to combust. Fuck, you were ready to let her do absolutely anything and everything to you, just as long as she finally took you.
“Tell me something, honey…” Her words pulled you from your thoughts. “Do you want Mommy to make you feel good? Is that why you pulled this little stunt? Wanted to get my attention?” She asked, watching your eyes go wide at the mention of the title you used, the one you moaned out when you thought of her. “Oh, yes, I know what you like to call me.” She smirked. “It has a very nice ring to it, when you moan it out, touching yourself.”
You could only whine, too scared to admit how badly you needed her, how much you thought of her, how long you’ve waited for this moment, but Wanda didn’t rush. She held your gaze and she searched your eyes, filled with longing, as she let you think this through. If she was going to do this, she would do it right.
“Wanda… Please?” You uttered in almost despair, not knowing how to ask for what you wanted and not daring to hope that you would be lucky enough to get it.
“Please what, sweetheart? What do you want?” She asked softly, her thumb brushing your cheekbone as a way to soothe you. “You’ll have to use your words.” She coaxed, when she saw the way you took her hand, trying to guide it lower, to where you needed her most.
“Mommy…” You whined once more, trying to plead with her, hoping that it will affect her enough to finally make that final move.
Hearing your pleas, hearing that title pass your lips as you looked at her was easily pulling at her heart strings. It was also making her want to ruin you. She couldn’t deny that it did something to her and despite your poor behaviour today, she wanted to be good to you, wanted to care for you, to shower you with the love and affection you deserved, but she couldn’t make that move, not before you asked. She had no intention to be cruel to you, she just wanted to be sure, that you wanted to take that step with her.
“I know you’re feeling shy, dear, but this matters to me.” She said softly. “I need you to know what this means and I need to know that you want it. For that, you’ll have to use your words.” She clarified again, waiting for her words to sink in, but this time she didn’t have to wait long.
“You know I want this. For years I’ve wanted this, wanted you. And I never thought you’d ever see me, the way I see you, but Wanda, if you do… Please, don’t make me wait anymore. Please?”
As soon as she heard that, she leaned forward, capturing your chin with her fingers and looking deep in your eyes, letting the anticipation build between you, before she slowly connected your lips in a gentle kiss. It’s slow and soft, she moves tentatively, bringing her body closer, so she could let her tongue explore you as well, and she’s pleasantly surprised when your hands grip her top, pulling her on top of you.
Just this small contact had your heart fluttering with joy. You never thought this could be your reality. It felt so good to feel her weight against you. You had waited too long for this. You had spent so many endless nights thinking of just this. But Wanda was worth it. To be able to smell her, to taste her for yourself, you would do it all over again.
Her hands were just as gentle as they ran up and down your neck, or buried themselves in your hair and you couldn’t help but moan and whimper as you desperately tried to get more friction and more attention from her.
She was trying to take it slow, letting herself feel the culmination of her longing and just enjoy the way your lips felt, but it just wasn’t enough. She wanted to feel more of you, feel every part of you against her and explore every millimetre of your gorgeous body. This moment between you was long overdue and you both knew it.
Tentatively, she straddled one of your thighs, pressing her knee against your aching core, hoping to provide some much-needed relief to you both, but it only made you needier and more desperate for Wanda to finish what she started.
“Mommy, please.” You whispered softly, breaking the kiss to look up at her with longing and she instantly understood.
As much as you hoped to hold yourself together, as much as you wanted to prolong this moment, scared that if you opened your eyes, she’ll disappear, you couldn’t help the way your pussy throbbed. You had waited hours, teased and edged and filled to the brim with no relief and you couldn’t stand it a second longer. You needed to cum, or you were going to combust.
Wanda met your gaze, her head spinning from how lost she let herself get in your kisses, only to see you in a similar state. The love and adoration in your eyes, all that pent up longing and your pleas were irresistible. She had to indulge you. Then again, she also had to teach you a lesson and it felt right to use this toy. You had started all this by taking it after all.
With a devilish grin, Wanda reached into her pocket, feeling for the remote control and blindly pressing the start button. She felt the toy come to life with a sudden buzz, the vibrations dull against her knee, but from the way you gasped at the sensation, she could tell you were having a much more intense experience and she let it continue its work, while she took you in a deep kiss.
When it became too hard to keep up with her, your mind too distracted by the pleasure, she started to kiss her way down your body, kissing your neck and helping you grind against her, elated to hear the way you moaned and whimpered from every small touch. God, you were gorgeous.
“Look at you.” She admired you with a soft smile. “I’m about to make you fall apart, while fully dressed and without a single touch to your pussy.” She rasped, her hands massaging your breasts through the fabric of your dress and bra.
Her words made your cheeks burn and pulled another whine from you, yet you couldn’t deny how hot it was, or how badly you wanted it. In fact, they only made you grind against her more, trying to pull her in for another kiss, desperate to feel her against you.
She was right too. You were shaking beneath her, your movements turning more erratic, the closer to your edge you would get, and knowing that once you were there, you wouldn’t be able to stop it.
“Mommy, please I want to cum.’’ You pleaded softly. “Please, don’t stop it this time.”
“So pretty when you beg.” Wanda smirked. “You wanna cum, my darling?”
“Yes, want to cum so badly.”
“If you want to cum, you have to promise Mommy some things first.” Wanda explained, removing a strand of hair from your face. “First: You’ll never take Mommy’s toys again without permission.” She stated sternly. “Is that clear?”
“Yes, Mommy, I promise.” You nodded, body squirming under her intense gaze. God, you were close.
“Second: No more touching yourself. And no more cumming unless you have Mommy’s permission either.” She explained while she trailed soft kisses down your neck. “Understood?”
“Yes! Yes, I understand.” You almost screamed, your hips stuttering against her. “Fuck!”
“Good.’’ She smiled triumphantly. She could probably get you to agree to just about anything right now. “But most importantly, no one else is allowed to see you like this, to touch you like this, to feel you and fuck you and kiss you the way I can. You’re all mine, got it?” She almost growled in your ear, one of her hands tangling in your hair to make you look up at her.
“Yes! God, yes! I don’t want anyone else, Mommy, just you. Please! I just want to be yours. Please? Can I be yours? Can I please cum?” You spoke in a high-pitched tone, your desperation reaching new hights as you heard the possessiveness in her voice.
Wanda could tell you were seconds away from your orgasm and the smile that spread over her face when she reached into her pocket, stopping the vibrator, could only be described as evil. She found it amusing that you would think that she’d let you cum like this, with a toy you had taken from her, instead of getting to feel you for herself.
“Oh my God, no, no no…” You whined, tears prickling your eyes as the sting of denial hit you full force. It was horrible, being so close, yet unable to finish. If Wanda wasn’t right on top of you, you would have reached down, trying to finish it yourself. At the same time the pleasure that burned through you, unyielding and demanding was somehow sweet.
“How does that feel, my sweet girl?” Wanda asked with a calm, self-satisfied tone that had chills run down your spine. Something told you that she would love to do this to you again. “Frustrating, right?”
“Yes.” You whined, as your nails dug into her arms, as the orgasm you had built started to dull down and fade.
“That’s what it felt like, every time you teased me.” She explained with a growl. “That’s what it felt like, to find out you took something of mine without my permission.” She added, as she took down your panties, her eyes zeroing in on the pink vibrator nestled inside you. “I’ll do much worse, if you try something like that again.” She snarled, the threat clear in her voice.
“I wouldn’t Mommy, I promise.” You squirmed under her inquisitive eyes.
“Learned your lesson, huh, my darling?” She smirked, pulling out the dildo as well, discarding it on the floor carelessly, so she can admire your sweet pussy. You were so beautiful like this. Legs spread wide, slick folds on display and your desperate pussy twitching with need and excitement. You were perfect. “Then let me show you how good I can be to you.”
With a smile, she teased her fingers over your sensitive folds, playing with your clit and pulling small moans from you, before she eased her digits inside you. Your tight walls accepted her gladly, fluttering and pulsing around her happily and a string of moans filled her ears. She curled them experimentally, looking for your sweet spot and it didn’t take long to find it, your back arching off the couch in delight.
“Yeah, that’s your spot, isn’t it? Right there.” She emphasized her words, by pressing on it again.
“Yes, right there!” You sighed, back arching as the pleasure inside you started to grow again.
Wanda’s fingers were even better than the toy, stretching you deliciously, as they moved just the way you liked and you couldn’t believe that you had lived so long without getting to experience them.
Her hungry eyes were stuck on the view of her fingers moving in and out of you, your juices sticking to the palm of her hand, that she made sure to press against your clit at each stroke. It was obscene how much you reacted to her, how badly you needed her and you tried to pull her closer, so you’d hide in the crook of her neck, but she wouldn’t let you.
“No need to be embarrassed, darling. Mommy loves to see how good she makes you feel.” She husked, but gave in none the less, wanting to feel you close to her.
She peppered soft kisses on your cheeks and jaw, trailed them down your neck and against your ear as you moaned for her, clawing at her clothed back and it took everything in her not to stretch you out with a third finger. When your walls tightened around her, gripping her hard, she knew you were getting close again, your insatiable little pussy just begging her for more.
“Are you going to cum for me, baby?” She asked sweetly. “Are you going to make a mess all over my fingers?”
“God, yes!” You gasped, trying to pull her impossibly closer.
“Show me.” Wanda husked, claiming your lips in another kiss, nestling even closer to you, pulling your legs around her waist, so she could press against you snugly, almost folding you in half as her fingers worked your G-spot.
The position was surprisingly intimate, your body trapped under Wanda. It felt snug and safe, all your senses surrounded by her. You could smell her perfume, see the curtain of her soft, wavy hair falling around you, taste her as she kissed you, feel her deep inside you as you reached your edge with soft moans of pure pleasure.
When you finally fell over it, she helped you ride the waves of extasy, her fingers never stopping their movement. You were writhing under her, but she held you down effortlessly, until you gave her everything you had to offer and she pulled out of you with a contented grin.
“That’s my good girl.” She praised, lifting up her fingers to inspect them and slowly putting them in her mouth, so she could clean them up. “And so delicious too.” She added happily.
For a moment she contemplated letting you rest, but her own arousal was driving her crazy, the wetness in her panties a stark reminder of how badly she needed some relief. But it wasn’t just that. She hadn’t even properly undressed you yet, hadn’t had a chance to taste you from the source. She wanted to do so many things to you…
“Thank you.” You purred like a happy cat, stretching a little from underneath her.
“Such good manners.” Wanda mused. “Always such a good girl for me.” She smiled, noting the way you beamed proudly at her praise. “Think you can help Mommy undress you?” She asked, waiting for your happy nod of consent and your eager adjustment, so you can help her lift off your dress and discard it.
For a moment you felt a little insecure about yourself, despite the many times you had paraded yourself in front of Wanda, but she didn’t let you dwell on it for too long. She kissed you deeply, her lips never leaving yours, while her hands reached behind you and unclasped your bra, throwing it somewhere behind her, while her hands explored you. Your skin was so soft to her touch, your body responding to every little caress and begging for more.
You were gorgeous in this state and she wanted to show you just how much she truly loved you, wanted to show you how deep her feelings really went, wanted you to know that this meant everything to her. You meant everything to her.
“Can I see you too, please?” You asked shyly, while she massaged your breasts, eyes fixed on them hungrily.
“Of course, darling.” She smiled knowingly, probably realizing how shy you must feel, being the only one naked. “Do you want to do it, or should I?”
“May I?” You practically beamed at her, sitting up in anticipation.
“Of course, sweetness.” Wanda smiled softly, stopping her movements, so she could give you some space.
Undressing Wanda was almost a spiritual experience. Each item of clothing you were able to remove revealed more of her beauty to your adoring gaze and she felt the swell of pride when she watched you take in every curve with admiration. It felt so good to be admired so openly and she allowed you to take your time, to kiss and caress her, as you shed her clothing.
When you unclasped her bra, freeing her breasts, you almost drooled at the sight of them. Perky nipples stood at attention, begging to be worshipped and you barely had time to ask if she’d let you, before you did just that. Capturing each breast in your palms, you swirled your tongue over her nipples, sucking on them gently and smiling when you pulled soft sighs of pleasure from the older woman.
As you finally reached her underwear, lacy, red panties fully capturing your attention, you couldn’t help but gasp, when you found her just as wet as you were.
“Do you like seeing that, honey? Do you like knowing you make me this wet? Do you like knowing that every night I heard you call out to me, I got just as wet, touching myself to the thought of making you mine? Does it excite you, knowing that you caused all this?”
“Yes, Mommy! I always wanted you just like that. Always wanted to know how you would feel, what you would taste like, if I could have you in my mouth.” You confessed, remembering each time you fantasized that Wanda would find you with your hand between your legs and give you exactly what you wanted.
“Well, now that you have me, have a taste.” She nodded happily, helping you take off her panties and spreading her legs, to give you a good view of her soaked folds.
Instead of answering, you just kneeled, slipping off the couch effortlessly and finding your place between her legs. With the sight of her soaked panties and the delicious smell of her reaching your nostrils, you could already feel your mouth water. There was something so erotic about having her above you like this.
Wanda looked as regal as a queen as she let you take her in in all her glory. Darkened, green eyes never looked away from you, as she left everything on display. And by all the gods, she was magnificent. Everything about her was pure perfection and you were happy to stay right there, on your knees, forever, worshipping and admiring her, if it wasn’t for the hand, that soon tangled itself in your hair, pulling you closer to her.
She leaned in, kissing you fully and only pulled away, when you both needed to breathe.
“Don’t make me wait too long.” She said as she leaned back against the couch, the hand in your hair pulling you forward and closer to where she wanted you.
“I wouldn’t dream of it.” You smiled, moving forward on your own and taking a small experimental lick.
Her reaction was instantaneous, her fingers tightening their grip and pulling you all the way, until your mouth was flush against her. She sighed with satisfaction, her legs spreading wider, to give you more room to explore her and by God, she tasted so good. You wanted to devour her whole.
“Yeah, that’s better!” She sighed, her hips canting up against your mouth, as your tongue swirled over her clit. “Just like that, baby.”
Her praise was almost hypnotic, sparking something inside you, an urge to be better than all her other lovers, to show her that you’re worth all this, that you would earn the privilege to be hers. To show her that you would learn what made her feel good, what made her moan out in pleasure, what had her screaming and bucking her hips into your mouth. You’d learn it all and you’ll give it to her, just so she would call you her good girl again.
“Fuck, yes!” She cursed under her breath. “So fucking good with your mouth.”
Her hand in your hair kept you firmly against her, nails scratching at your scalp as Wanda guided you through what she wanted. And she wasn’t shy about it either. The closer she got, the more she used you for her pleasure, her legs planted on your shoulders as she rode you even more.
“Fingers, honey. Put your fingers inside me.” She spoke breathlessly, almost suffocating you with how much she pushed you into her pussy, when she felt you enter her. “Yes, just like that!” She praised. “Such a good girl. Gonna make Mommy cum so hard.”
The prospect of making her cum had your excitement reach new levels and you doubled your efforts, swirling your tongue around her clit in circles that seemed to drive her crazy. You could feel her walls pulse around your fingers, squeezing you and pulling you in, as far as you could go and you knew she wouldn’t last much longer.
Wanda reached her edge with a high-pitched moan, her thighs squeezing around your head and the hand in your hair tightening its hold on you almost painfully, just as she started to fall apart. The orgasm that built in the pit of her stomach spread like a tidal wave, coursing through her entire body as she shook against you.
She could feel your free hand gripping her thigh, trying to keep her steady as you helped her ride it all out. When she did, body slumping on the couch with a happy sigh, she hurried to pull you up and into her embrace. Getting to cum with your mouth and fingers felt so much better than the empty nights she spent with her toys and she knew she wouldn’t be able to give you up, even for a second.
When she was able to recover, she got up, helping you to your feet with a gentle hand.
“Let me take you upstairs, sweetheart.” She suggested. “I believe you had an interest in my collection?”
Her words were full of innuendo and you practically leaped, following her up the stairs and only stopping in front of her bedroom.
“Wanda?” You looked up at her, a little insecure.
“Yes, darling.” She paused, at hearing her name pass your lips, instead of the title you chose to give her.
“Is this…” You tried to ask, but couldn’t find the right words, biting your lips in anticipation. “Does it mean…”
“You mean everything to me, Y/N.” She said reassuringly, clearly understanding what you wanted to ask.
She had spent her whole life looking for love like yours. For someone, who would worship her the way you did. And now that she had it, she couldn’t imagine ever letting you go. Couldn’t imagine ever sharing you with another soul, or letting anyone ever touch you the way she did. As soon as she kissed you, she knew that she will commit to you for good.
“Do you mean it?” You looked at her with hopeful eyes. “Because I…”
“So do I, my darling.” She smiled softly at you, knowing that neither one of you was ready to admit it just yet.
The two of you stood there, in front of her door, for a few moments longer, just smiling at each-other, letting your eyes say the things you couldn’t form into words, before you couldn’t stand the tension any longer.
“May I kiss you again?” You asked a little shyly, fighting the urge to hide into her again.
Wanda’s smile only widened. She opened her door, the soft light from within illuminating the perfectly pristine space, as she pulled you closer to her.
“Come inside, sweetheart and you can do so much more than just kiss.”
______________________________________________________
I just might have to make a part 2 to this fic, because there is just so much left unsaid here... But at least I get to share the beginning with you guys! Let me know what you think!
If you liked this story and you want more, please visit the Masterlist with all my works. Happy reading!
Disclaimer: Image not mine. I'd happily give credit to the owner if I knew who they were :)
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reiderwriter · 17 days
Note
Hello!I hope you are having a great day!I love LOVE your writing and I would like to request a fanfiction where the reader is Hotch's daughter who works at the bau and is in a secret relationship with spencer without her dad knowing.Spencer wants to tell the team but she is scared about how they'll react so they fight but during a case she gets kidnapped and the feelings are high,so spencer accidentally reveals the relationship.I would love if it ended in smut (possibly dom!spencer who is angry at her for being so reckless and risking her life like that) and maybe a lot of angst??Hotch could potentially be fuming but when they get her back he decides that he will let them be??I would like my emoji to be 🌼!Thank you in advance and if you write this I would absolutely LOVE to read it!🤍🤍
A/N: I love writing for a Hotchner Reader because the Hotch/Spencer parallels are so 😙👌 This was so fun to write!
Warnings: Smut/ Angst with a happy ending, Semi-public sex, oral (f receiving), dirty talk, case details, kidnapping, abuse, strangulation, mentions of child death/ allusions towards pedophilia etc, Hotch is a somewhat shitty/overprotective dad/boss.
Masterlist!
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Falling back into a hotel bed that wasn't yours, you wrapped your legs around Spencer Reid as he furiously worked open the buttons of your shirt, his lips locked with yours in a furious exchange. 
“Spencer, Spencer, we can't-” You moaned as his lips fell down to your ear, a small tap to your thigh signalling that he wanted tour legs spread for him. Despite your vocal protests, you complied.
“Need to feel you,” he groaned, nipping and sucking his way down your chest as his big hands began pushing your skirt up and your panties down. 
“Spencer, someone will hear.” 
“I don't care who hears,” he whispered, finally ridding you of the last piece of material covering your wet sex. “I just want to make you feel good.”
His lips fell to your cunt, falling on your cunt as he began his ministrations. You loved this, the feeling of him near, his lips on you, his tongue teasing out whimper, then moan, then a scream of his name as you came undone on his lips. But that wasn't a chance you could take today. 
“He's in the next room, Spencer. Fuck, he's going to hear us.” 
You wouldn't push him off, enjoying too much the feeling of your building pleasure, so appealing to your boyfriend to do the right thing was your last resort as your hips bucked into his face, chasing your orgasm. 
He didn't stop, but held your hips down, thrusting his tongue in and out of you as his fingers came up to tease your clit. 
“Spencer, fuck-” you slapped a hand over your mouth as you shuddered below him, finally reaching your climax. 
Your hands fell limp as he worked you through the end of your orgasm before rising up to lay beside you on the bed. 
“I wish you wouldn't push it, Spencer. You're a dead man if he catches us like this.” 
“Hotch won't kill me just because I'm dating his daughter. I don't understand why you don't want to tell people.” 
You ran your hands through your hair in frustration. It was a conversation you'd been back and forward on a lot in the past six months. 
Dating a coworker was tricky, doubly so when your coworker’s boss - and your boss - was your overprotective father. Things only became more complicated when you factored in a ten year age gap and the fact that your father refused to view you as an adult, even when you were a fully qualified member of his own team. 
You'd had to fight for acceptance into the FBI and go above him to get the job on his team, a decision that he still berated you for to this day. But you'd had enough of him shielding you from reality, and it was a step you needed to take. 
Falling in love with Spencer Reid, though, that was just pure bad luck. 
You weren't sure how it had taken you until joining the team to meet the man, but you sure were glad he hadn't been introduced earlier. You'd joined the team at 24, having been in grad school until your FBI Academy application was approved, and somehow in the 10 years before that Spencer had worked under your father, you'd never crossed paths.
Of course, you knew who he was before that from context and conversations with your father, and of course, he figured out who you were quickly based on the many arguments you'd had in Hotch’s office. But that hadn't stopped you from repeatedly falling into his bed month after month, and then falling in love with him. 
Your relationship was more than the sex, but it was also a lot of sex. From the stories you'd heard, and from the look of him, you'd assumed that Spencer was a delicate little flower, an innocent in the bedroom as much as any 34 year old man could be. 
And then you'd both been offered spiked drinks at a holiday party courtesy of Penelope Garcia, and he'd proved you deliriously wrong. He'd been hooked from then on, and after waking up awkwardly in his bed the next morning to two cups of coffee and a spread of breakfast pastries he'd gone out to specifically pick up for you, you'd been hooked on him as well. 
The only problem was Hotch. 
You certainly weren't winning any daughter of the year awards already with the stunt you pulled to get on the BAU, but you didn't want to be completely and totally disowned just yet. 
“Hotch won't kill you for dating his daughter, you're right,” you mumbled back to Spencer rolling yourself back on top of him and pinning his arms down so his fingers couldn't tease you any further. 
“Thank you, now if you trust me, I've ran like four different scenarios in my head so-” 
“He'd definitely fire us both, though. And that's worse than death.”
“Y/N….” 
“Tell me I'm wrong, please. Back up your findings with empirical evidence. He doesn't want me on the team, Spencer. He doesn't even want me in the FBI. I think he'd be happy enough to ship me out of the country, too, if that helped.”
Spencer sighed and tugged your hair behind your ear as he gestured for you to sit up. 
“I know it's scary. But I love you. I don't care about the consequences because I'll still love you before and after telling him.”
“And during?” 
“I might freak out a bit, but deep down, the love will be there still.”
You hit him with a pillow and climbed off the bed. 
“Okay, get out now. I'll think about it but you really can't stay here tonight.” He nodded, grabbing his things and pulling his clothes back into place. 
“So, like we're totally done for tonight? Nothing else.”
“Spencer! Out!” You whisper-shouted the words and watched him turn your door handle as slowly as possible before he waved his goodbye and left your room. 
12 hours later, you were once again getting frustrated with Spencer Reid. And Aaron Hotchner. They may soon be enemies, but goddamn they were perfect for each other in some ways. 
“Hotch, you can't just give me nothing to do. Send me to the morgue with Rossi, or let me interview family members with Tara. I'm a member of this team, too, so let me do my job.” 
“You'll do well to remember that I'm your boss, Y/N.”
“You're acting more like my dad right now. A boss would utilize his team members.” 
You'd been stuck in this stale mate since the morning, and Reid hadn't helped at all. When giving out assignments that morning, you'd not been notably left out of crime scene investigation, suspect interrogation, and anything helpful. Reid usually asked for your assistance at times like these, but he was finally putting his money where his mouth was and keeping distance from you in the office.
So far, you'd ran coffees back and forth between the kitchen and work room and had been communicating back and forth with JJ and Derek in the field and Garcia back at Quantico. 
You'd been, for lack of better comparison, relegated to receptionist. 
“At least let me work on the geographical profile with Reid-” 
“Absolutely not.” 
You stiffened at the reaction, wondering just exactly why he would react so strongly. Spencer had snuck in a few secret kisses here and there this morning, though you'd been sure that you'd had no witnesses. 
“Why not?” 
“I don't want you to distract him.”
Bile settled in the back of your throat as you tried your best to bite your tongue and keep the bitter words in. 
“You know, sometimes, Dad, it feels like you love everyone on this team more than you love me.” 
He locked eyes with you quickly, but he glance was dismissive and stern, almost as if he was asking you ‘seriously.’ 
You turned on your heels and began to walk out before he called out from behind you again. 
“Y/N,” you stopped despite yourself. 
“Leave the gun and badge on the desk. We'll discuss this after the case is closed.”
You almost laughed. You almost blurted out your relationship with Spencer just to spite him. You followed his order and took yourself out of the office for some fresh air, finally giving him what he wanted. 
An hour of aimlessly wandering down the street, and you turned into a run-down park. 16 missed calls from Spencer and other members of the team, who'd no doubt watched you turn in your badge. 
Garcia had even called a few times, and you felt guilty for not forwarding her calls somewhere else, knowing she'd probably have key case information for someone. 
But you just couldn't handle it anymore, so you switched it off, pushed it back into your pocket, and kept walking. 
It was two more blocks before the man following you pushed a soaked rag over your mouth and nose and pushed your unconscious body into the back of a waiting van. 
×××××
Two hours of near constant complaining to Hotch had gotten Spencer nowhere in his demands to know just where you went. 
He'd called you 36 times since Hotch had told him you'd left, and he hadn't stopped freaking out since. 
“But where did she go?” 
“I sent her back to the motel.” 
“All of our cars, bar the one JJ and Morgan took to the crime scene, are outside and accounted for. The motel is a 34-minute drive away. It'll take her 5 hours on foot through our unsubs hunting grounds, and I'm not sure if you've noticed, but she matches the victim profile we just gave. Where is she?” 
A muscle in Hotch's jaw twitched, but neither of them moved, eyes locked in battle to see who would back down first.
A call from Penelope ended whatever disaster was storming between them. 
“Hotch hey, I can't get in contact with mini-Hotch, so here I am. Morgan called earlier from the crime scene. From the way they're posed, he said they could be possible stand-ins for a lost child  a daughter or a sister, so I cross checked the ownership of the vehicles that run with the tires we found prints of at the scene, and I got a name. Like one.”
“Great work, Penelope, send it over.” 
Hotch dropped the call and looked back up at Spencer, readying himself to give orders and push the issue. 
Again, their standoff was interrupted. 
“Hotch,” JJ rushed in, carrying a radio dispatcher, face white, and filled with worry. “You need to hear this.”
“Witness reported an abduction on East and 7th, patrol surveyed the scene and found a cellphone. Identifying information suggests it belongs to a Y/N Hotchner. We're bringing it into the stat-” 
Hotch stood so fast his chair almost crashed to the floor. He stood so fast that he barely had time to dodge the lunge Spencer took in his direction, fist pulled back. It would connect, given the chance  he knew it would. He'd been the one to teach Spencer to throw a punch in the first place. 
Morgan insinuated himself between the two men before, and blood could be shed, quickly pulling Spencer back as Rossi, too, rushed into the room to diffuse the situation. 
“One hour. I've been asking you for one hour where she went, and you wouldn't answer me. You made her leave her gun behind.” 
It wasn't exactly a shout, but there was something broken in his voice, as of his mouth had filled with blood and he could only spit hate at a man who'd been a mentor to him until seconds before. 
“If she's hurt- fuck, if even a hair on her head is out of place, I'll-” 
“What, Spencer? What will you do? She's my daughter. What could you do that-”
“She's my girlfriend! She's my girlfriend, she's the love of my life. God, I want to marry her, I have the ring, I have the proposal planned, all that was left was telling you and then asking her, but you've been such a dick to her about this job, and about cases, and God knows what else, that she doesn't want to say anything to you, and now you've driven her away and she's fucking gone. And she could be hurt or in danger or d-de…” 
He crumpled to the floor, Morgan still holding him as his legs gave way beneath him. 
Nobody moved for what felt like hours, still in their grief, shock, some just nervous to see what would happen next. 
“You've been in this situation before, Hotch. So have I. It's …. It hasn't ended well for us before.” 
The words were so final, so defeated that they sucked the air out of the room.
“Morgan,” Hotch started quietly, eyes still locked with Reid's, still staring down the reflection of his own despair.
“Get Garcia back on the line, I want confirmation that the vehicle that picked Y/N up is the same one that our unsub has been using to set up crime scenes. See if she can lift a name and an address. Rossi, if he's skilled enough to pick up an FBI Agent unaware, we need a SWAT team, get one on standby.”
Slowly growing in volume, he continued, as the room started moving at his signal. 
“JJ, Tara, take over where Reid left off with the geographical profile. Look at Y/N's last known location and how far a car could've gotten in the last 24 minutes.” 
He paused again, staring Reid down. 
“Reid, you're with me.” 
xxxxx
It took you a few seconds to gain a sense of your surroundings when you came to. Partially because of the drug induced migraine splitting your head, and partially because of the mess of ribbons and stuffed toys you'd woken up in. 
A change of clothes, and hands tied to what seemed to be a children's bed and you felt so grossly vulnerable your body shook with a few harsh sobs before you regained your composure and remembered your training. 
The knots on the rope holding your hands were tight. There wasn't much room to move with them pinned above your head, but you recognised them as naval knots. Your unsub had experience at sea, recreational or professional you'd yet to determine. 
Looking around again, you looked for entries and exits, wanting to know how the unsub would come in again and how you could get out. 
There were no windows, but a set of stairs leading up towards a solid door told you that you'd been locked inside a basement. A basement decorated similarly to a child's bedroom. 
Dimly lit by a mass of fairy lights, the room seemed covered head to toe in teddy bears, dolls, and children's books, a sturdy handmade doll’s house standing in the corner of the room. 
Faintly, you heard the creaking of floorboards above you before the handle of the basement door rattled and more light poured in. 
“I bought you breakfast, cupcake.” 
There was no time to feign unconsciousness again as your captor finally came into view. 
He was older than middle-aged, slightly wider around the midsection than you assumed he'd been in his youth. His hair was closely cropped and laid neatly, leading you to suspect he was former military. 
“Oh, good, you're awake. What do you want to do today, cupcake? Daddy has some time off now, I can play with you all you want.” 
You moved slowly, pushing yourself up to a seated position so you could bend your arms a bit. But you didn't look away, needing to keep him in your line of sight the entire time.
“Where am I?” You asked slowly, trying to keep your voice steady. 
“Wow, you must've had a deep sleep cupcake. You're in your bedroom, silly!”
The man's sprightly tone was disconcerting, and you could see a muscle in his forehead twitch slightly as you spoke. 
“O-of course. My mistake. Maybe I'm just still tired.”
He laid the tray on the bedside table and sat on the bed next to you. You tried your best not to shy from his touch as he stroked your hair, but every muscle in your body tensed and pulled from him reflexively. 
A quick glance to the tray and you saw the food he'd brought you was a small cup of pills and a glass of water to rinse them down with. 
If he noticed your flinch, he said nothing, grabbing a hairbrush from the nightstand and beginning to comb through your hair slowly and deliberately, taking care like one would a daughter. 
“Daddy,” you took a chance, recalling the name he'd given himself earlier. “Can we play outside today? I want to go to the park.” 
He stopped moving, and you held your breath as his smile dropped. 
“No, sweetie. You know we don't go to parks.” 
“Why not? I really want to play there, Daddy, please!”
In seconds, his hands wrapped around your throat as he pushed you back down into the bed, holding you there with his tight, suffocating grip. 
“Shut the fuck up you little slut. I said we don't go to parks, you listen. I am your father, you are not being taken by one of those sick freaks again.” 
He released you as quick as he grabbed you and stood up, pacing as he attempted to regain composure. 
“You can draw or we can have a tea party but you know we can't go out. You know that cupcake, I've told you so many times.” 
He grabbed at his hair, pulling it from its carefully styled arrangement into a mess, his fingers leaving red marks against his white skin as he pushed and pulled his head. 
He breathed deeply, and you sat up, trying to regain your composure as you watched him lose his. 
“What was her name?” You whispered, half hoping he would hear you, half praying that he'd ignore you for the sake of his fantasy. 
“W-What?” 
“Your daughter. What was her name?” 
He focused on you again, but his hands - hands that you knew could and would choke the life out of you if you did something wrong again - his hands were shaking. 
You heard the floorboards creaking upstairs and decided to push your questioning, hoping it meant what you thought it did. 
“Why are you saying it like that, ‘was?’ Is. Her name is, your name is Laura, and you're my little cupcake.” 
“What happened to her?” You filled your voice with as much sympathy and understanding as you could muster, one eye on the basement door that was being slowly pushed open. One look at Morgan at the top of the stairs had your heart rate slowing to a calmer speed. You locked eyes with him for a second, halting him, and he nodded, waiting for your signal. 
“You, you're my cupcake, you look just like… She should look just like you.” 
The man sat on the bed again, stroking a hair out of your eye as his filled with tears. 
“Fifteen years. I looked for her for fifteen years, you know. If I hadn't taken her to that park-” 
“That must have been hard.” 
He nodded as he broke down in silent sobs. 
“They said… they said she probably died a day or two after we lost her. When they found her, she was…” he rested his head on your shoulder, let him cling to you as he mourned his daughter. 
“We couldn't identify her, but she had that teddy with her. The teddy with the cupcake in its hands. She never went anywhere without it. So we…we knew.
You looked at Morgan as he slowly made his descent into the room, closely followed by JJ. 
The man looked up into your eyes again, wiping the tears from his face. 
“She was only 8.” He looked defeated, and your heart broke for him, even as you wished to get as far away from him as you could physically muster. 
Morgan pulled him up and away from you as he secured the man with handcuffs, but his eyes remained locked on you. 
JJ untied you and guided you out, but you felt his gaze bite into you ever after you'd left the basement. 
As soon as you were above ground, you let your body divest itself of adrenaline, your legs buckling as JJ tried to catch you. Another set of arms was quicker, though, and you didn't even register Spencer's arrival before burying your head in his chest and letting your sobs escape you. 
He guided you to your feet and walked you out to the ambulance, his arms protectively wrapped around you, his lips peppering kisses along your hairline and forehead, anywhere he could reach. In moments, you were bundled into the ambulance, and three gentle voices were trying to calm you, to pry you away from your comfort doll.
You wondered if you'd die like the unsubs daughter had, if they'd find you clinging to Spencer the way she had to her teddy bear.
“Y/N,” your father's deep voice was clear and smooth, the only thing that was cutting through the wretched moment of pain you were enduring. 
You remembered yourself again, relinquishing your grip on Spencer and wiping the tears from your face as you finally looked towards Aaron Hotchner. 
The paramedics took their chance and began checking your vitals, working around you in a hurry. 
“Dad, I'm sorry, I was walking and didn't notice that he was behind me, I should've been more careful-”
“Y/N, it’s okay. You're okay now.” 
You nodded as he came closer. You ignored the tears in his eyes, trying not to break down again. It had been an age since you'd last witnessed him cry, at another crime scene with another family member and another unsub. You couldn't think about how close you'd come to making him relive his worst nightmare. 
Spencer's hand was still firm in yours, and you held it like a lifeline, though you were sure your nails had to be cutting him by now. It took another moment to register that he was holding onto you just as hard, that he was unmoving, still where he was usually a series of compulsive moments, tapping, hand wringing, fists clenching and releasing. 
You glanced between the men, who had now become quiet as they surveyed you, and noticed the tension. Before you could say anything, though, the paramedics took over. 
“We're going to get you to the hospital now, Agent, one coworker can accompany you in the vehicle, preferably one with knowledge of your medical history.”
Both men immediately moved forward again, as if ready to jump into the van, before turning again to each other. 
“Shit,” you mumbled to yourself just as the buzzing in your head from the migraine grew louder. 
“Y/N, it's your choice. Who do you want to come?” Spencer said gently, his body still stiff with worry. 
“I'm her father. This isn't a question of who she likes better.”
“I have her medical records memorized, and I have more knowledge about the drugs the unsub gave her, but Y/N can choose for herself because she is a grown woman.”
You sighed and dropped the man's hand as the medics ushered you into the van fully, but the men were fully absorbed in their fight for dominance that they barely registered it. 
“JJ. JJ is coming with me,” You could see both of them turn back to you to argue, but you continued before they could. “Because I am a grown adult who knows her own medical history, and I don't need my father and my… coworker having territory wars over my wellbeing.” 
And possibly because she'd be the least awkward option to answer the questions about sexual activity and possibility of pregnancy around, but you really did not need to vocalize that. 
“Right now, I'm just a victim you've saved. Go and do your jobs and meet me at the hospital later because I am not doing overtime completing paperwork while on suspension.” 
JJ climbed up into the ambulance and the doors shut, letting you finally get a few moments peace as it began slowly making its way to whatever hospital was closest. 
“He knows, right?” You asked, covering your eyes with your hands as you braved for the answer. 
“Hotch? You could say that he figured it out.” 
“That bad?” 
“Spencer threw a punch at him. He tried to at least.” 
“What?!” Your body shot up, but the paramedic gently forced you back into a laid position, giving you a warning look to stay put as she checked your blood pressure. 
“Don't be too hard on him, Y/N. He thought he was going to lose you. They both did. I don't think either of them would survive it happening again.” 
The guilt hit you right in the chest as you nodded and dropped the conversation. 
“Maybe I should've let Spencer come with me.” 
“Why?” JJ asked, not offended bit curious. 
“Because I'm not entirely sure my father won't throw that punch back at him now he knows I'm okay. It's hard being in a relationship if one of you is dead.” 
The older woman chuckled slightly, and you settled back down, letting the car movements rock you into sleep. 
xxxxx
A few hours later and some quietly bickering voices pulled you from the rest you'd so sorely needed. Without even opening your eyes, you knew they'd both subtly scrambled to your bed to make sure you were comfortable. 
“What are you talking about?” You asked, wiping your eyes carefully as you tried to sit up, arms still aching from being tied up. 
“Oh shit-” you exclaimed after seeing your boyfriends freshly split lip. 
“Dad, what the fuck?” 
“Y/N, it's fine. It doesn't hurt.” 
“Aaron Hotchner, do you have nothing to say for yourself?” You tried to put all of tour anger into the words as you said them, bit he looked at you again with his straight face, and you crumpled under the pressure. 
“I won't…I'm not going to object. I just ask you to keep your private life separate from your work.” 
“And you're going to punch my boyfriend while I'm unconscious, so I can't defend him.” 
“I'm still your father, and he deserved it.” 
You looked back over to Spencer, who was quite notably not meeting your eyes. 
“Do I want to know?” 
“I'm leaving now. Jack will be here soon. He wants to check on you now that school is over. We told him you were hurt trying to save a sick man.” 
“Thank you, dad.” 
He nodded at you and left you alone in your hospital room with Spencer. 
“Why did you deserve it?” You whisper shouted the moment you assumed he was out of earshot. 
“The doctor came in and asked about some old bruises on your upper thighs. And ass. And chest. I had to admit they weren't sustained during the kidnapping, and Hotch wasn't pleased.” 
You huffed out a sound halfway between incredulous and a strangled moan of shame as you curcled yourself up into a ball and tried your best to die. 
“Great. Wonderful.”
“If it makes you feel any better, he thought it was signs of domestic violence and not just rough...sex.” 
“Yes, Spencer, that makes me feel entirely more comfortable with the situation.” 
Registering the sarcasm in your voice, he quieted down again, settling into the chair by your bedside and grabbing your hand. 
You sat silently together for a few minutes before either of you said anything. 
“I'm sorry. I know you didn't want him to find out.” 
“Spencer, you don't have to apologise. All things considered, this is possibly the best way he could've found out.”
“My busted lip suggests otherwise, I think.” 
“And a whole lot more would've been busted if he caught us any other time. Besides, I already lost my job, so there's not much else at stake anymore.” 
The words stung you as you said them, but you did still feel the weight of your dismissal in your chest, spreading miserably through your bones. 
“Does your head still hurt?”
“Not really, why?”
“You're not as perceptive as you usually are.”
You shot him a confused look as he smiled softly down at you, offering a nod towards the small coffee table under the window of your hospital room. 
There on your table sat your creds and your gun. The silent acknowledgement you'd been waiting for from your father. 
Spencer sat by you as you did your best to hold off the tears. He let you pretend there was something in your eye, let you wonder if your eyes had become watery because of dust from the basement. He quietly held your hand as you grinned and grinned until you pulled him in for a kiss and held him close to you. 
His lips were soft as you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him down on top of you even as he tried to hold himself up and off you so he didn't hurt you. 
“You know,” you said, punctuating each word with another sweet kiss. “This means- that- you're- stuck- with- me.” 
He laughed into your final kiss, finally pulling back for more air, studying your face as if he were trying to memorize it. 
“That was never the issue.” 
“Oh really, and what was?”
He kissed your again, slow and deep this time, taking his time working his hands down from your hair to your neck to cup your face so you were opened up to him, letting his lips and tongue explore everything he wanted to. He pulled away eventually and instinctively your lips tried to chase his, even as he pulled out of reach. 
“Making sure you stayed by my side.” 
983 notes · View notes
pathologicalreid · 1 month
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next of kin | S.R.
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disaster strikes and you and Spencer try to take custody of your younger sister
who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: angst content warnings: actually might be gn! but i'm too scared to say it is. death, orphan-ing, funerals, child custody issues, blood, general cm violence, like actually an abhorrent amount of death. sorry i killed your parents for the sake of my fanfiction can we still be friends? word count: 3.33k a/n: this is the fic that this post is about. i am in fact my own worst enemy. i hope y'all like it actually genuinely i am most definitely overthinking this. if your name is maya im sorry that sucks.
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“What did your parents say?” Spencer asked, walking into the conference room that the local precinct had offered to you.
You had been staring blankly at your phone since you got off the call with your mother, “Uh, they said thanks, but no thanks.”
The uneasy feeling had settled in your stomach as soon as you found out the team was being called to your hometown, and you had been nauseous ever since you found out the UnSub’s pattern.
Married couples with an older child who had moved out and a younger child who was still at home.
Your little sister was a surprise, you had incorrectly assumed your parents were done having kids.
Until today, you wouldn’t have traded Maya for the world, but now you sat in fear of your family being targeted by a serial killer. Hotch had offered them a protective detail, but they declined. Self-righteous as they were, they told you it wouldn’t feel right for them to accept help that couldn’t be offered to everyone.
Clenching your jaw, you stood at the table, “I’ll go by later and check in on them.”
Spencer had met your family twice by now. Last Christmas he had tagged along to meet them and celebrate with your family before the two of you spent New Year’s with his mom. Then, while your sister was on Spring Break, they flew out to Virginia, and you and Spencer had shown your family around Quantico and the District.
Maya had loved Spencer, partially because you loved him, but mostly because of his magic tricks.
“Do you want me to go with you?” He asked, stepping up next to you and placing a hand on the small of your back.
You sighed and shook your head, “No, not if you’re needed here.” You reached up and cupped his cheek, smiling softly, “Thank you for offering, Spence.”
He nodded affirmatively, “If you change your mind,” he offered. Gently, he pressed a soft kiss to your forehead before the two of you returned to the rest of the team.
The fact that your parents lived only five minutes from the police station gave you some relief, but you still felt tightly wound. Everyone had noticed. You just needed this case to be over.
The porch lights were on when you got there, and you used your house key – which you had never taken off of your keychain - to open the front door. “Hey, kiddo,” your dad greeted from the couch. A peek into the kitchen showed you that your mom was wiping down the counters. It all felt so eerily normal.
It was dark by the time you had gotten there. Maya was already asleep, but you tip-toed into her room anyway and kissed her goodnight before going back downstairs. Once you had hugged both of your parents and told them you loved them, you made your way back to the police precinct.
By nearly three in the morning, there was no new information, and the team was starting to consider calling it a night until the police chief got a call.
“We just got a call. Lady reported shouts coming from her neighbor’s house at 86 Meadowbrook,” he informed you, putting his hands on his hips and looking around at the team.
None of them even spared him a returning glance, everyone’s eyes were on you.
Blinking rapidly, you nodded assuredly, “I have to go get Maya.” You didn’t even recognize your voice even as you said it. It couldn’t have been your voice. That was the rasp of someone far away from you.
All of the other voices around you were muffled, you couldn’t hear what people were telling you, let alone understand them.
Maya. Maya. Maya.
Brown eyes. There they were, right in front of your face. “Let’s go get her,” Spencer whispered.
You had been speaking out loud. Repeating your sister’s name like a prayer without even realizing it.
Hotch let you go with them, but he made it abundantly clear to you – and the rest of the team – that you weren’t working this case anymore.
Surrounded by reverent voices in an SUV, JJ drove while Spencer stayed in the back with you. He held your hand tightly in his.
The house was closed off with police tape. Bright yellow plastic fluttered in the wind as you watched your team and other emergency personnel enter and exit. At your insistence, Spencer went in to get Maya, it felt like it had been hours before he walked out, carrying her in his arms.
Carefully, he brought her to you, and you pulled her close to your chest, blocking her eyesight as two body bags were brought out of the house.
You didn’t hear anything after that. You just let yourself be moved to wherever you needed to be, holding your kid sister as she cried for your parents.
They had to take their bodies to the hospital even though they were already gone, and you needed to be the one to confirm their identities. Spencer stayed with Maya while you were busy. She had cried herself to the point of exhaustion, you were grateful that she was sleeping, and then you felt cruel.
By sunrise, she was still asleep, and you had been set up in that same conference room from earlier. Sitting across from you was a social worker, a representative of the state. Your lips had parted in shock as you looked at her, “What do you mean they denied my request?”
In an attempt to be helpful, JJ worked with you to file an emergency request for custody of Maya, and the case worker had just told you that the request was denied. “The state doesn’t believe your request is valid,” she told you.
Your mouth went dry, “I don’t…” you glanced over at your little sister. “Our parents were murdered last night, and they won’t let me take custody of my sister?” You asked indignantly, peering at the social worker. It wasn’t her fault, somewhere in your grief-ridden brain you knew that, but you couldn’t help the feeling that she was somehow your enemy.
“They don’t believe you can provide her with a stable living environment,” the social worker, Brittany, explained.
Narrowing your eyes, you responded, “A stable living environment like a foster home? I’m her sister. We’re family – the only family each other has left.” You stood up, excusing yourself for a moment before walking out of the precinct. Once you were outside, you promptly hurled into the bushes.
That was how he found you, to the side of the building with your hair haphazardly moved out of your face, dry heaving into the shrubbery. Gently, Spencer placed a hand on your back before starting to rub small circles on your back, “You should eat something, love.”
You just shook your head in response, you weren’t hungry. “They won’t let me take her,” you whispered morosely, straightening up, you kept your back facing him.
“What?” He asked, his hand abruptly stopping its movement on your back.
Taking a deep breath and sitting on the curb, you looked up at Spencer. “The state thinks I’m not stable enough to take her in,” you said, resting your chin in your hands.
Your boyfriend crouched down so that he could sit next to you, “Are you going to challenge it?”
“Of course I am,” you cried. “But what happens to her in the interim, Spence? She gets placed with whatever foster home here and I go back to Virginia? I see her when the family court resolves this in two years?”
Treading carefully, Spencer cleared his throat, “What are you going to do?”
Defeated, you shrugged. “I don’t know. I’m…” your voice trailed off. “My parents are dead, Spencer,” you murmured softly, tears welling in your eyes.
He reached out and wrapped his arms around you, “I know, darling. I know. I’m so sorry.”
“I don’t think I can do this alone,” you whispered, leaning gently into him.
Spencer turned to kiss your temple, “It’s a good thing you’re not alone then. I’m not going anywhere.” He waited for a moment before continuing, “Give me something to do. Give me a job to take off of your shoulders.”
In the end, you let Spencer take over funeral planning. He thanked you for trusting him before the both of you went back into the precinct.
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You had just hung up with a family lawyer who had offered to take your case, letting your phone drop to the floor, you let your arms hang at your side. Someone had taken Maya to get breakfast while you spoke with the lawyer.
At the sound of the phone falling to the floor, Spencer stepped into the conference room, letting the door click shut before him. “Hey, what did he say?”
Pressing the heels of your palms into your eyes, you took in a deep breath, “Um, he said he’d be willing to take the case if I could put together a case plan to present before the judge.”
Before that phone call, you didn’t know what a case plan was, you could’ve gone your whole life without knowing what a case plan was.
“I need a year-long plan for how I’m going to prepare to have Maya in my custody, but he said a year is the best he can do,” you said, staring blankly at the wall ahead of you. “A year?” You whispered aimlessly, “I’m not waiting a fucking year to take custody of her. I have to take her home, Spence. I have to.” It wasn’t your intention to snipe at him, but you felt like you couldn’t help yourself.
The events of the last twelve hours threatened to take you down, but you had to stay strong for Maya.  
Taking a shaky breath, you looked up at Spencer, “Why is it that every time I convince myself that it’s going to be okay, I get tossed to the ground again?” You asked him.
Maybe because you weren’t fully convinced. Maybe it was because it had only been seven hours. You needed to remind yourself of that.
“She’s a ward of the state?” Spencer asked for clarification, holding you tightly.
Nodding absentmindedly, you rested your head on his shoulder as he swayed gently. “She can stay with me until after the funeral, and after that, she has to go with the social worker.”
The sad look on Spencer’s face told you that he was running out of ideas, and you were coming to the very same conclusion. “We could get married,” he offered.
“Stop, Spence,” you said, shaking your head. You couldn’t believe this was where he was going.
He shrugged helplessly, “I’m serious, Y/N. If we get married, they might think we’re stable, as a couple. They might give us custody.”
Your shoulders slumped, “I don’t want to get married just to get custody of my sister.” It certainly wasn’t that you didn’t want to marry Spencer, just not like this.
He nodded understandingly, “I know, but I’m just saying. If that’s what it takes, then I’ll do it.” Placing a comforting hand on your knee, the two of you sat in silence for a moment. “Do you have any ideas?” He asked you carefully.
Looking through the blinds of the conference room, you saw the rest of the team coming back to the precinct. Setting your jaw, you nodded, “I might.”
Opening the door, you had Maya go in with Spencer while you approached your Unit Chief. “Hey,” Hotch said, a glint of sympathy in his eyes. “How are you holding up?” He pulled you away from the people, wanting to give you privacy.
This wasn’t fair, they were still working on an active case. A case that was disturbingly close to you, and yet, you felt you were out of options. “I need a favor,” you blurted to him, wringing your hands. Your nervous energy made it impossible for you to stay still.
Hotch nodded, “What do you need?” He asked, studying your composure with the eye of a profiler.
You took a deep breath, “I was… I need you to call in a favor with someone. Anyone, really. The state won’t let me take custody of Maya, but I can’t let her become a ward of the state. Not when I’m right here, ready, willing, and able to take her.”
“Okay,” he responded, not even pausing to think about it.
Taken aback, you looked at him curiously, “I- that’s it? I had groveling prepared.”
He nodded almost imperceptibly as if he was trying to tell you it wasn’t necessary. “You’ve been a part of this team for years and not once have you ever asked for anything in return for everything you do for everyone else. This is the least I can do,” he told you.
You couldn’t help it. Overwhelmed, you tackled Hotch in a bear hug, “Thank you.” Your voice was low, “Thank you so much.”
Succinctly, Hotch hugged you back before you pulled away, “I’ll go make some calls.”
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It was the smell.
The smell that you’d sensed countless times before on the job, the metallic tang of the blood. It should’ve been mostly dried by now – you supposed you were more susceptible to the scent, considering it was your parent’s blood, but it put you on high alert.
Emily had brought you by so that you could pack a bag for Maya, but you found yourself stuck on the landing. To one side, there was your childhood bedroom and Maya’s room. On the other side, there was your parent’s room.
“Y/N?” Emily called your name from downstairs, “Are you alright?”
No, you wanted to say, but you bit your tongue, scanning the house you had grown up in. “This doesn’t belong here,” you told her, glancing behind you as she made her way up the staircase.
You didn’t have gloves, so instead you pointed at the figurine that was resting on the bookshelves, a little bear facing in the direction of your parent’s bedroom door. “This is in the wrong spot?”
Nodding, your eyes followed the ceramic bear as Emily picked it up with a gloved hand. “It’s mine, it should be in my room,” you informed her. Your parents never changed anything about your childhood bedroom, not since you moved out. “It was like it was watching them,” you thought aloud.
“Do you think the UnSub did it?” She asked you gently, her voice was low but steady.
Blinking rapidly, you kept your eyes focused on the figurine, “Little Bear,” you murmured, “They called her Little Bear.”
Emily shook her head in confusion, dark hair swaying as her head moved. “Who was called Little Bear?”
Dropping the bag you had packed to the floor, you buried your face in your hands, “I should’ve seen it sooner.” The victimology, it all suddenly made sense to you. “When I was a kid, there was a family like mine. A brother who was in his twenties when his parents had another baby, a girl. They called her Little Bear.”
Realization dawned on Emily’s dark features, “Like this bear?”
You picked up the bag and started making your way back down the stairs. “Their mother made those figurines. The parents died in a fire two weeks ago – they left everything to the younger sister. It was all over the news. God, I should’ve figured it out sooner.”
“Hey,” Emily said sympathetically, “You had other things going on. None of this was your fault.” Her voice was stern, harsher than you’d ever heard her, as she pulled out her phone and called the team.
Your teammate drove, passing the police station on the way to drop you off. They left for the takedown, and you felt yourself floating into the precinct. Maya was waiting in the conference room for you, watching cartoons on someone’s laptop.
Kneeling in front of your little sister, you tapped the space bar, pausing the video. “Hey, kiddo,” you whispered, reaching over, and smoothing her hair away from her face. “How are you feeling?”
She had cried herself to sleep earlier, and you felt like you hadn’t been around enough. Maya sat up on the couch and rubbed her eyes, they were red, but not teary. “I miss mommy,” she told you, pouting slightly.
You nodded gently, moving to sit next to her before you pulled her into your lap. At six years old, she was all gangly limbs, just starting to grow into her own person. Just old enough to understand death, “I know, baby. I miss them too.”
“They wouldn’t lemme go home,” she continued, leaning her head on your shoulder. “I wanted Thumper,” she whined, sounding younger than she was.
Looking up at the light, you silently begged for your tears to go away. “I got him for you,” you told her, reaching into your bag and producing the small stuffed bunny that you had given her as a baby.
You savored the way her eyes lit up as she grabbed the stuffed animal from you.
“So, you and Thumper are gonna come to stay with me in Virginia. Do you remember going there? You said you liked it?” You kept smoothing her hair back as she held her toy.
She was silent for a moment, “Will Spencer be there?” She asked quietly.
Smiling slightly, you nodded, “He and I live together, so he’ll be there with us.” Slowly, you started rocking back and forth, trying to soothe the both of you simultaneously.
“As long as he doesn’t pull money out of my ear,” she answered succinctly, shutting her eyes as she leaned up against you.
There was approximately an hour before you watched the team return to the precinct, slowly, you laid Maya down on the couch before walking out. “It was a clean shoot,” you heard Rossi tell Morgan, and one look at the rest of them told you everything you needed to know.
The team went back to the hotel, and Spencer filled you in on the funeral arrangements he had made on your behalf. You were about to try to get some sleep when Hotch approached you and told you he needed to speak to you.
“I called a good friend of mine on your behalf, and he gave me some information. We were able to work out a plan,” he told you, sitting across from you in the hotel lobby.
You were about to tell him that a case plan wouldn’t work, but he held his hand out, telling you to wait.
He nodded before he kept going, “He was able to file an emergency request to grant you temporary custody of Maya, and it was granted.”
You felt sick to your stomach, “She’s mine?”
“Temporarily, you’ll have to take care of some formalities back in Virginia, but you have full custody of her,” he informed you. “You’re being granted family leave, and I’ve encouraged Reid to apply for it as well,” Hotch told you, reaching out and placing a hand on your shoulder. “I am… I’m sorry that you’ve had to go through this but thank you for coming to me when you needed the help.”
You nodded absentmindedly, your head still whirling with the information that you had just been given. Stumbling, you walked back to your hotel room that you were sharing with Spencer and Maya.
The funeral was planned, the custody issue was solved, all there was left to do was…
“Baby?” Spencer said softly as you swung open the door, “Everyone else took Maya to get ice cream, I figured it couldn’t-“ his voice broke off at your first sob.
Everything you had held in came bursting out, all of the grief and stress and exhaustion nearly knocked your legs out from underneath you.
But Spencer was there to catch you.
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1K notes · View notes
astralnymphh · 3 months
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CALLING ALL FANFICTION AUTHORS!
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please reblog this. i've talked about this twice before, but obviously not everyone has seen it. i am calling for anyone who writes fanfiction or posts about a certain game/show/universe in any connective manner to please, please- PLEASE, copy this memo below comprising links to supporting palestine, education on the situation in gaza, and a must-need for those who engage in TLOU tumblr; links regarding the creators (neil druckmann) zionism, and how the plot of tlou2 is based on the israeli occupation of palestine. i don't care if what you write seems "insignificant" or "small" in the grouping of larger fics. no. everything that is not related to palestine in any form NEEDS these links. because, when we stray away from reblogging, or writing up our own posts in support of palestine/sharing journalists stories/etc. even for a SINGLE piece of writing, we could be missing people who are unaware (which, shouldn't be the case atp, but..) and fucking especially because in these fandoms, fics are the most popular thing. not reblogs about palestine, unfortunately; there are so many fanfiction accounts who very clearly don't give a fuck about the whole situation, seeping in silence, posting fics during strikes, not taking accountability for it now, so on and so forth. please, for the love of all that is good- CALL THEM OUT! people gaining hundreds of notes, tens of reblogs, supportive comments on a post that completely disregards what is happening SO BOLDLY right now, should irk you. i swear, if i see one more fuckass "i didn't know!" apology from an author who is CONSTANTLY on tumblr, REGULARLY posting fanfiction, i'm going to fucking lose it. if you are on tumblr to begin with, being this active- you have time to reblog. actually, educating yourself and reblogging is way quicker than writing up fanfiction of any length. are you fucking kidding me? you are laughable. comical, not real, and i have nay an ounce of respect for you. ever. but besdies that; the memo. i want everyone to copy this, or make something similar. put this above your summaries, authors note, whatever comes before the writing. every post you make should link back to supporting palestine, cause you never know how many eyes it will reach. it could change a lot of things. on pc, i believe copying it completely will preserve the links, but i'm not sure if mobile will. again. do whatever you can to add it. don't be lazy. put this in ur masterlists/navigation too.
for all fanfiction authors:
from the river to the sea, palestine will be free 🇵🇸
READ: this account stands with palestine, and so— i require everyone who interacts to educate themselves, and support/donate. READ THESE; 1 and 2, HELP HERE, BOYCOTT. silence is complicity, do not scroll past this.
for tlou fanfiction authors:
from the river to the sea, palestine will be free 🇵🇸
READ: this account stands with palestine, and so— i require everyone who interacts to educate themselves, and support/donate. READ THESE; 1 and 2, HELP HERE, BOYCOTT. silence is complicity, do not scroll past this.
DO NOT BUY THE REMASTER, TLOU2, TLOU1, OR ANY GAME FROM NAUGHTY DOG! neil druckmann (the creator) is a zionist. PLEASE READ THIS. AND REBLOG THIS.
you may add what is necessary, i wanted to keep it short for attention span sakes, and to avoid people skipping it entirely, and so on. i may edit these, fix up anything, but again, if you're using them you can edit them however. as long as you are linking anything in general, that is what matters. thank you, love from aestra. from the river to the sea, palestine will be free 🇵🇸
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