#and i was like ‘i kinda like adrenaline and doing dangerous stuff. would i ever do this?’

[baby-tart]

Realizing the person I’m becoming might be a little bit of a thrill seeker.

#shallotposting #saw this video where this guy went bungee jumping to earn money #the guy in the video said ‘i thot it was gonna be scary. very scary. it was five times scarier than i thot #and i was like ‘yeah ur brain probably thinks ur about to die’ #and i was like ‘oh well that feeling comes with adrenaline though #which is a thing some people like’ #and i was like ‘i kinda like adrenaline and doing dangerous stuff. would i ever do this?’ #(bungee jumping) #and i took a look at some of my recent interests #and i think i have a bit of a taste for adrenaline #but not like a thirst #so im glad

[angelltheninth]

Hello! Can I request a soulmate au headcannons for jinx, cait, vi and ekko with a soulmate who is the opposite of them?

Like with jinx, vi and ekko their soulmate is from piltover, rich with a family name and when they meet their soulmate their happy while since they are from piltover they are kinda concerned but when they do eventually end up dating reader loves giving them gifts

And with cait her soulmate is a firelight, not a lot of money but lots of love and from the undercity?

I love soulmate aus!

Pairing: Jinx, Vi, Caitlyn, Ekko x Reader

Tags: fluff, soulmates, feelings realization, developing relationship

A/N: Honestly for Vi and Caitlyn, it's just their canon relationship lmao.

Oh hell no, Jinx would not be having any of it. She would go out of her way to avoid you as much as possible. Of course she can't, she's drawn to you like a magnet.

She's very emotionally distant at first but at the same time she wants to be close to you, so she tries to be physically affectionate at least. Once she accepts her own feelings for you that is.

"Listen sugar, you're very pretty and all, but I can be seen running around with a Piltie. Or rather ya can't be seen running around with me. It's gonna make a big shinny target on your back understand? Well yeah, of course I want ya stay safe, I dream about ya every night ya know? I tell ya, they're the prettiest dreams I've ever had."

Vi doesn't exactly mind you being from Piltover, actually she thinks it's cute how you're trying really hard to impress her. She also feels pretty protective of you.

But she also feels out of place in Piltover. She tries to get used to it but every once in a while she needs to go back to Zaun, she misses the adrenaline of it all. You're more than welcome to come with her of course.

"Yeah I'm going down there again. You're more than welcome to follow. That is if you can keep up with me sweet stuff. And I'm not gonna babysit you again. Wha- just because you're my soulmate doesn't mean I'm gonna hold your hand all the time. The fact that I do it while we sleep has nothing to do with it. Alright, alright, give me your hand, we can go together."

Caitlyn isn't in denial for long. She's a very big romantic at heart but you being from Zaun was a very big surprise. She likes it though, she likes how you give her a challenge rather than just going along with her whims just because of her family name.

Of course she wants you to meet her family but she won't force you into social events if you don't want to go to them, she's not a huge fan of those either.

"As I'm sure you've heard darling my family is hosting an event this weekend. And look at that it just so happens that I've booked us a getaway. Sneaky? I suppose so. You're really rubbing off on me aren't you? Why are you laughing. Uhg, I did not mean it like that and you know it!"

Ekko thinks there must be some kind of mistake. He's not very happy about it at first and tries to tell you not so keep coming back to see him.

So it's very funny when he's the one who visits you, floating outside your window on his hoverboard, asking to come in and talk things over.

"Look Firefly... can I call you that? I'm gonna be honest, this is really scary for me. Being your soulmate is driving me nuts. I want to be closer to you but at the same time I don't know if it's gonna put you in danger. You're not gonna be able to just introduce me to your parents you know. I don't even know where we're gonna go on dates? You want me to show you around Zaun? Would that be our first date then?"

#arcane #arcane x reader #jinx x reader #vi x reader #caitlyn x reader #ekko x reader #arcane imagines #arcane headcanons #jinx imagine #vi imagine #caitlyn imagine #ekko imagine #league of leguends #league of legends x reader #league of legends imagine #league of legends headcanons

[petersbaby]

My little girl

Part 4 ♡

(Part 3)

Warnings: ddlg themes, choking, creampie, cockwarming i’m going to hell

This is kinda foul LMFAO I’m so sorry

-

“I’ve returned, little one”, he calls out as he walks in and shuts the door behind him. Right on time. After last time he left, you agreed on a system. He got you a watch, and you’d wear it to keep track of time.

Before going out, he gives you a time that he’ll be back by. So you watch the little clock, feeling better knowing he’ll be home definitely at a certain time, no more fears.

You practically run down the stairs to him at the bottom. It was actually quite scary to be in this house alone, but really, it felt scary to be anywhere without him.

Even in the safest place in the world, it wouldn’t be safe to you unless peter was there. You hug him tight, and he laughs at your excitement.

“Okay, I got you some clothes at the thrift store, just for now. When I find work, I will buy you better things. Promise.” he hands you the two big plastic bags. They’re heavy, but you run upstairs with them anyways.

“Let me guess, fashion show?”

“Fashion show!!”

He thinks you’re ridiculous but in the most adorable way possible. He comes upstairs and waits outside of the bedroom door for you to come out. You do, and you have first tried on a large brown knit sweater, oversized and fitting almost like a dress.

“Very cute, a little big, though.”

You frown. “I like it like this, it’s comfier”

“Very well. Okay, next outfit”

He motions for you to go back in the room and continue trying stuff. You do, deciding to just dump the bags out onto the bed instead of digging through them. Next you find pajamas, cute red flannel ones, matching pants and top. It was very Christmas-ey. Not quite the “most wonderful time of the year” yet, but you liked them anyways.

You come back out, hoping he says something sweet because you love when he does that.

“Really cute. Adorable.” He says with a soft smile. You blushed and walked closer to him and wrapped your arms around him in a hug.

He did the same, his scent still managing to be somewhat sterile just as it was in the lab as you breathe him in. The scent brings you back, and you remember how glad you are to have gotten out.

At the same time, though, you had a really weird homesick feeling. You feel safe with Peter, but being secured in there was a different level of safety. The world outside it was scary, unforgiving. Dangerous. But the place you’re thinking of no longer exists, you helped it get destroyed.

The scariest part, though, is that you feel no remorse. It had to be done in order for there to be a future for the two of you, you would have never been allowed to be together.

This was the only way. Now, it can be just you forever and ever. Til death do you part, at least you hope.

The hug must’ve lasted a little longer than normal, because he pulls away from you looking concerned.

“What’s wrong, hm?”

“Nothing. I’m okay, I just had a thought that I wish would go away.”

“What is it? The thought?”

You sigh, plopping down on the bed.

“Just thinking about where we came from, just remembering everything.”

“You don’t have to think about that anymore, we got out, okay?”

“I know I don’t have to think about it, my brain kinda just… does.”

“Well then we’ve got to figure out a distraction for you, yeah?”

“Maybe. Not right now though. I just wanna be with you.”

You put the clothes back in the bags for now, leaving them on the floor. You lay in silence for a minute, but your mind starts to wander again.

“Peter.”

“Hmm?”

“Can I kiss you?”

“Yes, baby.” And you do. Before, you were filled with adrenaline and it all went to fast. You learn, in that moment, that there’s no activity other than kissing him you’d ever want to do more.

You deepen it, tilting your head slightly to the side to do so. He was expecting just a sweet little kiss from you, never something this lust filled and passionate. Still sitting beside eachother on the bed, he turns to face you and you do the same.

His hand rests on your face at first, thumb caressing your cheek, but it soon moves down until both are resting on your hips.

He takes the opportunity to pull you with him as he lays back, landing you on top of him in his lap.

Since you seemed so eager, he wanted to let you take the lead. He would only do what you wanted, never more.

This was a great way for you to show him some of the things you want to do. You roam your hands around, touching his face at first and then running your hands through his blonde curls, bunching them up in your fingers and accidentally tug. He makes a slight grunting noise at this, so you do it harder and he groans this time.

The way you were touching him was so sweet but so vulgar at the same time. It was like you knew exactly what you wanted to do, and did just that with everything you had in you.

You start to move your hips, wanting to feel that hardness grow right beneath you, and it did. It only encouraged you to go harder, faster.

The way his boner was rubbing against your clothed heat was so good, indescribable. You unbutton and shrug off your top, leaving your chest out for him to indulge in if he wanted. He groans and reaches up to grope your tits, squeezing hands full of them.

You push his chest so that he falls back onto the bed and lean so you’re on top of him still but this time hovering over his body which he was just practically watching you use as you wanted to.

You tug on the collar of his shirt, and he starts unbuttoning it until his whole abdomen is exposed.

You start to kiss and lick down his neck, but stop to pay extra attention and gentleness to the scars he has from being burned and electrocuted.

You take a break, heated breaths filling the air around you. You slide off of him in order to take your bottoms off and he starts to do the same with his own.

Once he has them down all the way, you return to your place and grind again, this time without the layers of clothes.

Just running your pussy lips over the length of him, just enough to spread the wetness without actually having him inside you yet.

His hands are on your hips again and you reach down to get him positioned and you sink down onto him, to which you can’t control the sound that came out of your throat.

It was a filthy sound, but maybe he liked it because he was just staring at you, as if in a trance. His mouth hangs slightly agape.

He grips your hips tighter and starts to move them for you after you sit still for a little too long. It’s so deep that you swear you feel it all the way up in your stomach.

Your body chooses to react by basically turning into a rag doll. You fall forward again, bare chest to bare chest. So much warmth between the two, burning hot like fire at contact.

“Oh my god”, you murmur.

“Tired already?” He smiles.

“No.. maybe.. just feels too good” he decides to take control back, flipping your bodies so that he was on top of you now.

He starts fucking you in missionary, watching your sweet face as your expression shows outwardly how much pleasure you were experiencing.

He leans down to kiss your neck, sucking and biting with teeth every now and then. The feeling of the sharpness on such sensitive skin made you squirm.

“Gentle, please, daddy. That hurts.”

“Sorry princess.” He places light kisses on the marks he’s made and continues to thrust in and out of you. You start to feel as if something’s missing, something that you’re not getting.

You reach down between where your bodies connected and and start to rub yourself while he fucks you, not needing to do it for very long before you were about to fall apart underneath him.

“Please don’t stop, please, please-“ a hand on your throat.

“Shh, baby, I’m not stopping.” And he doesn’t.

You can hardly speak so you just cry out in desperation before you went over the edge and clenched tightly around him as an orgasm rocked your entire body. “Shit.”

You’ve never actually heard Peter curse, now that you think about it. He was very against that type of thing usually, but it slipped out. Either that, or maybe he just doesn’t care about rules anymore? His motions get harder, with great intensity before becoming sloppy and cumming inside you.

The warmth you felt when he did this was an indescribable feeling, it was the best sensation you’d ever felt and it made you feel loved knowing that he was still inside you even when he wasn’t.

You wanted to keep it there, and so after he pulls out and lays next to you, you try to squeeze your legs shut to keep the cum from escaping.

“What’re you doing, baby? Did I do something wrong, does it hurt?”

“No no it doesn’t hurt.. I just.. wanna keep it in”

He looks confused for a minute but connects the dots. He pushes your hip to turn you on your side and does the same himself, settling into a spooning position and sliding his cock back inside of you.

He winced just slightly at the sensitive feeling, but it went away once he stopped moving.

You lay together like that for a while, and you feel content in every way possible. You think about the fact that maybe one day you’d like to have kids with him.

You shut your eyes as you start to imagine what life could be for you guys, and soon drift off to sleep.

#001 #peter ballard #peter ballard smut #peter ballard x you

[in-your-dreams-vn]

blankie needs only a cozy corner and mini corn-dogs and blueberry fanta 2 live a happy life, o great ruler of da dreamy sea also oooOHOHOHOOO I see I see!! another question, the whole....sleep paralysis demon thing from our childhood (read da prologue) ive gotta say its so....its SO fun, taking the whole like, woah person in ur room not doing anything watching u 2 a whole new level, i just KNOW if i encountered an entity similar to that from my childhood in my dreams i would be. weirdly ecstatic because childhood horrors are always just....more fearful? because you were younger and it felt more deadly and dangerous and like the world was ACTUALLY going to end due to the intense adrenaline and instinct responses so like, the idea of meeting an entity similar to the thing that haunted my childhood but seemingly....different, perhaps not even the same? Id get such a big nostalgia trip in the weirdest and fondest way possible like it'd be a bit into the whole dreaming with traum and id go u know u remind me of this terrifying sleep issue i had when I was kid and honestly its kinda cool :D!! uuuhhh, oopsie i went on a tangent! how do they feel about horror media :0?? -blankie

hmmm. That is a very neat way of looking at this! To be honest I have not thought about it this way before. This gives me ideas.

Oh They would love that. "Really? You think I am cool?" Traum just hugs you and snothers you in their quilted cape.

I love horror. Especialy supernatural and paranormal stuff. And to no ones surprise at all I am really into cosmic horror. Ever since I discovered the Cthulhu Mythos I have been fascinated by the concepts. Just things beyond our comprehension that are so much bigger than us and we are to them but ants on a dirt ball flying through space. I also enjoy fantasy horror a lot. I am really into Fae related stuff. Tricksters and pranksters. They lure you in with promises and then rip your heart out. Traum was inspired by fae and by old German fairytales. A friend of mine once comparen them to the story of the Wolf and the seven goats and honestly that fits so well.

#🐙kraken chitter #in your dreams #in your dreams vn #i'm just rambling here #found a kindred spirit

[drifting-pieces-blog-blog]

Here to talk about moon boys… just thots many many thots

Just gonna leave it open ended huh? Not going to give me your thots? Cause I HAVE THOTS. Pretty dangerous of you to just leave the floor open like this. CAUSE HERE I GO.

I think on the topic of sex: Marc is Bi, Jake is Ace (but loves to flirt and have fun), and Steven is Pan (because how could he not just love everything and everyone?).

Lots of stuff going around about Jake being hedonistic? I kinda dig it. Jake has probably been repressed for such a long time that now that he is out, he's not used to being able to just take what he wants. He enjoys food. I think he enjoys fancy food and fast food and exotic food. He's used to eating in a hurry and probably eating for Marc, who was often too depressed to not only care for himself but too depressed to eat on some days.

So you see Jake at the diner shoveling in pancakes at three in the morning. You see Jake in the taco bell getting a chalupa fix, and you see Jake in the lavish french cafe down the street ordering a savory crepe.

That being said, I don't think Jake likes to own things. He doesn't care about clutter, as it helped hide him for years. He could hide his clothes in the hamper. He could hide his keys in plain sight in a clutter jar of change. But these things are not HIS things. He keeps track of his things. He has had to. The more he owns, the more he has to keep track of. Sharing a space, he has to worry about them moving his things. He gets high anxiety when people touch his things and don't put them back. It's a list thing. Keeping track of things. It's an autistic trait. Just trust me on this one.

The other side of the spectrum is Steven, of course! Steven likes to own things. He finds comfort in knowing things belong to him. Things that define him and things he can put his name on. His place is a mess, but he knows where everything is. He has a system that probably has to do with necessity. Frequently used, most likely to need, not needed often, just used, used last month, and things he just enjoys looking at or holding.

Where Jake enjoys himself excessively, Steven simply just enjoys things. He finds joy in the things around him. See him having lunch in the park and just smiling as he watches a squirrel. See him stepping out of his home on a crisp day and he comments about the changing leaves. He does not seek pleasure or joy, he just takes what is given to him and runs with it. He sees the world with rose colored lenses and ENJOYS IT. They joke they could give him a peanut and he'd be happy. And he would! Look at that little peanut! What's it doing in that shell? And the little paper wrapped around it! Did you know peanuts grow underground? Amazing!

Marc? Oh dear. Marc does not buy things because he cannot let go of what he owns. Marc clings to everything around him. This man went back for his hat, for crying out loud! We all saw it. Lost hat. Hat back. He was upset about his favorite jacket being ruined.

This stems from when he lost everything. Leaving home, he threw things into a bag and left. He didn't go back. I doubt he ever went back. Everything he left in his room, he imagines it's all gone. Even if it was kept there for him, it is still gone to him. He has learned to keep what he values and loves in easy reach at all times. If someone buys him a gift, he will keep it forever. As a child when he out grew his favorite shirt, he probably hid it so no one would get rid of it. This also stems from fear of change. Marc likes order. Marc finds great comfort in the expected. Someone moves his chair and he has to move it back.

Marc doesn't seek pleasure. He also doesn't see the joy in every day things like Steven. Marc is always surprised by things. Layla kisses his cheek and he will lean into it and smile. It fades quickly though. He needs quick hits of things to keep going or he sinks into a depressed mood. So Marc is an adrenaline junky. He lives off the constant boosts of adrenaline. He secretly loves roller coasters.

Steven hates roller coasters. He dislikes feeling the loss of control. Marc loves it. Jake could care less. You go up. You go down. Where's the funnel cake?

#Got asked #AND I ANSWERED NOTHING #because you didn't ask anything! #Just sitting here letting me go off #Moon Knight #Moon Knight Meta #Wild and unfiltered rambles #I lack organizational skills #Marc Spector #Jake Lockley #Steven Grant

[padfootastic]

So… this ended up longer than I meant for it to be. Sorry. 😁

The way you view James is interesting to me. I always imagined him as being a pretty free spirt who is just so incredibly alive. Most people who meet him probably describe him as the most alive person they’d ever met. He lived every second to the fullest and wanted to go all the way out to the edge and experience everything. Of course him and Sirius are described as “much admired rebels” but his rebellion isn’t the same it’s a freer thing if that makes sense? It’s not born form such darkness as Sirius’ is. James’ is fueled by a lust for life, new experiences, and new people and it’s more him challenging or rebelling against pure blood society (which I think is like just how the Potters roll) and their messed up ideals not his family.  Sirius’ being fueled by a lust for freedom (from his family, their beliefs, abuse, and his demons) and discovery of who he is and wants to be. Thus rebelling against his family, their beliefs, their power, and pure blood society. 

The Potter family where an old and wealthy family, but where mostly content with a comfortable life in the “back waters” of wizarding society and weren’t concerned with blood purity. Even with a history of muggle and muggle born rights activists. I always read this as them being rather different. I kinda felt like we were dealing with a family that just passed down the value of “fuck society we do what we want.” Like I imagine them as eccentric inventors, cures breakers, adventurers, magizooologists, quidditch players, dragon handlers, aurors, and whatever else wild, exciting, fun thing one could think of. I definitely think that doing well (academically, career wise,etc) was important and considered valuable by them but for some reason I just seem like being a rather wild and free bunch. Definitely still approachable, kind, down to earth, kind, accessible, but worldly, fun, exciting, intense, passionate, adventures and excitement on legs.

hello! definitely no sorry needed, i love talking all things jfp 💜💜

i’m gonna be honest, i don’t actually see james as a rebel at all (with or without a cause). i see him as pretty much sticking to what’s expected of him in most cases (esp public) and only really going off the path when he’s with a trusted few. i definitely see where ur going and i love it! he’s definitely full of life and always, always happy to be trying new things. i often call him the sunshine kid and i’ll stick by it. i definitely think a large part of it comes from the confidence & high self esteem his parents instilled in him—he sees something and he goes for it, and this often ends up in him doing all these weird, adventurous, often dangerous things right? (i also think he has a large uhh what’s the word, adrenaline kink? nope, that’s not it. but u know what i mean right? the kind of person who loves extreme sports, for eg)

also lol love the hippie potters vibe you’re drawing here. (i also have this funny mental image of like, ridiculously wacky/eccentric potters and then comes james—a whole buttoned up, proper posh boy kid—and they’re (incl portraits) all just baffled like, how is he like this??? who gave him the stick up the arse?? like everyone else is dressed in the most mismatched, alternative fashion ever and then u have james in sweater vests and shorts and buttons downs)

i’m now also imagining harry learning all this about his family and it’s so !!!! like i’ve read a few fics that super focus on potter family history (one where they were like, military tacticians and super op fighters which was so good) and i love stuff like that! harry finding out that the potters were this bunch of crazy inventors & chose the most ridiculous professions and i feel like that would give him such a sense of freedom and relief and he’d definitely be next in line ykno?

#james potter #harry potter #my mom remains the most excitable + ‘bouncy’person i or my extended family know #despite so much shit she hasn’t lost her optimism and zeal for life at all #i kinda see james like that even when he’s older #(none of him parents know where he gets it from bc both of them r more sedate realists) #tell me james potter wouldn’t love extreme ironing #you know he will #it’s perfect #he’ll be so excited too #‘look pads! i ironed this on the giant squid’s back’ #no but anon i really love this view of him! #it’s also exactly what none of the other marauders are #so hilarious juxtaposition #can u imagine james finds out about like. bungee jumping or sky diving and wants all of them to go #and they’re just like ??? r u nuts?? #after finding out about the the moon landing he goes thru a phase where he tries to ride his broom as high as it can go #he’s forced to stop when he falls over one too many times bc of like. icing or lack of o2 or sumn #his friends decide to put an embargo on his interactions w the muggle world bc he gets so many bad ideas #every time he finds out about a new invention or something #and they’re so tired of trying to reign him in #he’s just like ‘guys don’t worry potters r basically indestructible’ #(i’m gonna ignore the low hanging joke here) #pen’s asks

[eccentricwearsgoggles]

The Gang Goes on Family Fight, Charlie, Artemis, Mac Fights Gay Marriage, High School reunion Pt. 1, High School reunion Pt. 2, The Gang Dances Their Asses Off

Finally answering those asks! Thanks for sending :)

The Gang Goes on Family Fight / Are you the kind of friend that you would want to have as a friend?

Uh, you know, I think so. I think I'd get along with myself, besides the not being that good at replying/ bad at texting at times (not really a big deal lol but still). But I'm relatively chill and supportive.

Charlie / What is your strangest habit?

Had to think about this one for a bit. This is probably moreso a focusing issue though, but MOST of the time I'm by myself watching a show/movie I tend to be doing something on my phone at the same time. Either playing a game or even just window shopping. Now that I think about it, it's probably more of a bad habit LOL.

I also have been doing this thing since I was a kid, where I'll use my index finger spell/write words in the air that I'm thinking of or something someone is talking about.

Artemis / How often do you kink shame?

Probably a lot of the time, honestly. LOLL If it's on tumblr, I'll just unfollow or block the person though. I'm pretty much not comfortable hearing stuff like that in people's lives in general.

Mac Fights Gay Marriage / Are you dangerously stubborn? 

Yes I am, lol. It's actually one of common things people use to describe me. I think most of the time it's in a good/positive way.

High School reunion Pt. 1 / What was the worst phase in your life?

Haha, uhhh let's see. I could say perhaps 15-19 yrs old? My early twenties were plagued with advanced depression too though, but I think these years were some of the worst for me.

High School reunion Pt. 2 / What was the best phase in your life?

This is going to seem kinda 'oh you're just saying that because you've just gone through this year'. But honestly I think the past three years, and /especially/ 2022, has been both a struggle but the most stable I've ever felt in my life. I've really gotten a good grasp at things in my life, a lot in part thanks to my faith, but I'm pretty content withthings. 2022 has definitely felt like a good year for me, as far as growth. I'm hoping next year is a continuation of being on that same track.

The Gang Dances Their Asses Off  / When have you felt your biggest adrenaline rush?

Uhhh I think maybe when I was floating in a river with one of my friends, and as the water was like... UHH taking me with it, I panicked and scrapped my leg on a rock, even though she told me just to float and not try to stand until we got to the more shallow water. I still have the scrape from earlier this year, but I still wanted to go again LOLL Found out how much I love water and rivers. :)

#asks #thanks!! was fun to finally gather my thoughts together lol

[shinyflareon]

More small details I'd forgotten about from my re-read of the Yugioh manga, this time from volumes 6 and 7 (with allusions to the start of the first volume of Duelist that I'll put in another post because this one got long)

In the intro to one of the volumes Takahashi said that he accidentally wrote Jonouchi's first name as "Tomoya" rather than "Katsuya" in an earlier volume, and so this misconception about his name was apparently widespread and persistent enough that the between chapter art a few volumes later in the first volume of Duelist is Jonouchi looking cool and saying explicitly not to call him Tomoya, because his name is Katsuya

I just realized that I think post-Death-T when the gang goes to pick up Sugoroku from the hospital is the last time we ever see Hanasaki

Other students at Domino High know Yugi's family runs a game store and if something gets popular enough will bug him to know when they're getting more stock in

Yugi will also routinely bring new toys and games to school to show off with the intention of getting people interested in them (usually by trouncing Jonouchi)

Y. Yugi claims that he's raising the "shadow level" during the shadow game with Negumo in the final round from 1 to 3

I am...at least somewhat certain that shadow game ended with Y. Yugi either punching a hole straight through Nagumo's face or blasting his head clean off. The game ends with Y. Yugi just walking off while Nagumo is lying face down on the floor behind him, not moving, but is covered by shadows from the waist up while Y. Yugi talks about the shadows consuming him

Anzu explicitly asked Yugi out on a date with the express purpose of getting the "other Yugi" to come out so she could go on a date with him instead. She also got a guy beaten up by freaking out that he was being a perv to her in an effort to bring the "other Yugi" out

She also thinks an active bomb threat in the amusement park is "exciting" and deliberately separated herself from Yugi and put herself in danger of getting blown up just to draw out the "other Yugi." Despite almost actually getting blown up, she doesn't seem to regret this at all

Hirutani literally just strung Yugi up by the Millennium Puzzle and tried to hang him in front of Jonouchi, and almost succeeded in actually killing him

Yugi's family's shop is also well known enough as a place that has weird stuff that if people find a weird game they can bring it in and ask Sugoroku about it

The Dragon Card game that Yugi plays with Imori actually seems like it would be pretty fun

Imori got them apparently from his grandfather when he was in Manchuria during WWII (and absolutely not committing any war crimes, I'm sure)

Hearing Sugokoru's very stern warning to never ever break the seal on the Dragon Card game makes Anzu say that now she kinda wants to break it

Anzu's a lot more of an adrenaline junky than I remember

Imori observed that Yugi basically stopped getting bullied after completing the Millennium Puzzle

He was able to not only do further research on the Dragon Cards but also about the Millennium Items, and wants to replace Yugi as the "Guardian of Darkness"

It's unclear whether Imori was able to instigate a shadow game because of the Dragon Cards or because he'd stolen the Millennium Puzzle

Once he realizes that he's in a shadow game, Yugi says he'll have to believe in himself for this one

Yugi has to be either wearing or in contact with the Millennium Puzzle in order for Y. Yugi to manifest

Imori's soul just got sucked out and into the jar and Y. Yugi just...took the Dragon Cards and left his body there in the classroom

The Dragon Cards were the last one off game style of chapter - after this is Bakura's introduction with the tabletop game and then we go straight into Duelist Kingdom

Speaking of Bakura's introduction, all those legal-friendly names for "not DnD" games are kinda hilarious, as well as the title "Dark Master" to keep the acronym "DM"

Ryo is considered a pretty boy by female students, who start crushing on him immediately

He now lives alone, but he has a sister named Ayame, who he still writes to

Ryo got severe chest pains the first time he touched the Millennium Puzzle

He was completely unaware of even the possibility of his "other self" and only knew that any time he made friends or had them over to game he would black out and his friends would go into comas that they still haven't recovered from

He only started hearing TKB's voice the night he touched the Millennium Puzzle but TKB says something like "so you can hear me now, can you?" implying that he'd been trying to talk to him for a while

TKB refers to Ryo as his "host" and claims that sealing his friend's souls into tabletop minis was in response to Ryo having fun with his friends and wishing that they could always play together

When the group came over to play Monster World, Yugi is a half-elf Beast Tamer, Anzu is an elf mage, Honda is a human Magic Gunman, and Jonouchi is a human Warrior

(Clearly I need to rethink my Guild Wars 2 AU to account for these choices)

Unlike regular DnD, Monster World actually has a goal of DM vs players

Monster World solely uses d10 percentile rolls

Oh no they use THACO, no wonder TKB needs a computer to keep track of whether or not attacks hit or not

At first, the group thinks Bakura is throwing his voice to make it seem like the minis are talking, and are impressed with his ability to do different voices

Once Anzu, Jonouchi, and then Honda's souls get trapped in minis, Yugi specifically requests to get his soul put in a mini as well so that the "other him" can come out and be the one controlling them

While by this point they are all aware of the "other Yugi," this is the first time that they actually engage with both Yugi and Y. Yugi as separate people, though they call them both "Yugi." Yugi and Y. Yugi also share a moment because this is the first time that Yugi actually sees and truly interacts with his "other self"

TKB reveals that the power of the Millennium Ring is the power to transfer/seal souls into objects. Mostly tabletop minis at this point, but he's also sealed souls in dice to manipulate his rolls

In a funny little bit of foreshadowing, the boss monster TKB creates to kill the players is called Zorc

TKB tethered his soul to Zorc, which meant that when Zorc's hand was cut off by Jonouchi, it let Ryo's soul inside his body come out and start to try and sabotage the game - this is what leads to the infamous scene of TBK impaling his hand on one of the game towers

At first, the gang thinks that Ryo betrayed them, but as the game goes on, they start to realize that Ryo is being possessed and work to save him

This missing hand also allows the party to pull Ryo's soul out through Zorc in the form of a mini, a high level NPC ally "under the will of the other DM." He is a white wizard, able to protect and buff his allies and debuff enemies - the race is unclear, but presumably human

Yugi is able to successfully turn 2 enemy monsters into allies, including one that spawned from Zorc's severed hand, which might allude to his improbable ability to make friends

TKB takes "a step he can only take once" and seals part of his soul into another pair of dice to manipulate the rolls - however, Ryo put his entire soul into those dice as well and shatters his own soul to destroy them

Since TKB's soul was tied to Zorc, his soul "died" when Zorc was defeated - but he said earlier that as long as the Millennium Ring existed, his soul would always persist

Ryo just...straight up dies

The only part of his soul that still exists is inside the mini, and Y. Yugi has to roll for him to cast a heal spell and transfer his soul back into his body, as well as all the other souls trapped in minis back into their bodies, including Ryo's old friends

#yugioh #ygo #manga reread

[genshin-impact-writings]

Could I please request headcanons for Zhongli, Kaeya, and Diluc with an s/o that gets a serious injury during a fight but doesn’t notice it until the adrenaline wears off several hours later once the intensive quest is finished? I need some angst of s/o collapsing into the boy’s arms and them fearing for their lives while the rush to get them help and the fluff of them caring for them in recovery once they wake up 😭🙏🏻💖

Heya, dear anon! Thank you for your request but I'm really sorry that it took me so long to finish this. I hope you're still interested in this and like what I came up with. Take care and stay safe. <3 The HCs for Kaeya and Diluc are under the cut.

Reacting to their s/o getting hurt in battle & taking care of them afterwards (gn!reader)

Zhongli

When it comes to fights and stuff like that, Zhongli is incredibly focused. He pays attention to everything around him, including you, to make sure that nothing goes wrong. He also wouldn’t hesitate to use his powers to shield you from the enemy as soon as he notices that you’re in trouble. However, since you don’t act like you’re injured or anything like that, he assumes that you’re fine throughout the whole battle.

That’s why he’s more than worried when your legs give out and you collapse right into his arms, your clothes drenched in blood. It shocks him to see you like this, especially since both of you assumed that you were fine, and it’s also a painful reminder that you are mortal and not invincible at all.

Zhongli feels really guilty about the whole situation but he tries his best to stay calm and collected because he knows that it won’t help you if he freaks out. The way back to Liyue is horrible nevertheless since the thought of losing you is enough to make his heart ache in a way he never experienced before. If you should die, he’d never forgive himself – after all, he was there when you got injured and he should have protected you.

While the healers take care of you, he refuses to leave your side but he wouldn’t pester the staff with constant questions or advice. He’s worried, yes, but he has faith in their abilities and trusts in them to do everything in their power to keep you alive.

When it comes to your recovery, Zhongli makes sure that you have everything you need and asks you quite frequently how you’re feeling. He stays by your side the entire time, telling you a few stories or just watching you sleep. He won’t reproach you in any way about the incident because he knows that you never planned for something like this to happen, and he thinks that it’s his fault as well since he failed to protect you. With that in mind, he promises himself that he will do everything to prevent something like that happening again.

Kaeya

Kaeya is aware that you are a skilled fighter and don’t need him to protect you. However, he still keeps an eye on you during battles because he feels better when he knows that you’re okay. He never hesitates to rush to your side to help you if you get into trouble, no matter how often you tell him that he doesn’t have to do that.

That’s why he has no idea how it actually happened that you got hurt. Perhaps it was because he was distracted for a second but whatever’s the reason, he feels awful about everything that happened, even though he knows that it’s not his fault in particular. Stuff like that isn’t inevitable, he’s well aware of that, but he hates that it happened while you were with him. He should’ve kept his eyes glued to you throughout the whole battle, he shouldn’t have let anyone hurt you.

Kaeya feels incredibly guilty about the whole situation but as soon as you collapse right into his arms, he can’t think about guilt anymore. Every thought is filled with concern and a nagging fear that you may not survive.

He carries you all the way back to Mondstadt after giving first aid. When it comes to your medical treatment, he insists that only the best healers take care of you. He can be a bit rude in a situation like that but he definitely apologizes afterwards since he only acted like that because he was so worried about you. While he waits for them to finish your treatment, he can’t sit still for a second. His thoughts are racing, no matter how much he tries to calm himself down, and he finds himself wondering how he could go on with his life if you wouldn’t wake up again. He’s on the verge of tears until Barbara finally tells him that you’ll be fine.

During your recovery, Kaeya complies with your every wish. He takes a few days off to keep you company while you have to stay in bed and rest, and he does everything in his power to make you feel better as soon as possible. Also, you’ll notice that he hugs you more often than before since he’s so glad that you’re still alive. He also has to admit that it’s quite nice to spend so much time with you (although he definitely doesn’t want you to get hurt ever again), and sometimes, he even dozes off while he’s lounging around next to you.

Diluc

Most of the time, Diluc refuses to let you accompany him when he’s out to fight the Abyss Order. It’s not that he doesn’t trust in your abilities or thinks that you’re a bad fighter; it’s more because he can focus better when he knows that you’re far away from any trouble or danger. He knows that you would love to help him though, so if you’re persistent enough, he eventually agrees to take you with him from time to time.

He kinda feared that worrying about you would distract him in battle but once he sees you in action and realizes that you can take care of yourself just fine, all of his attention goes back to the mission. That’s why he completely misses the moment in which you get hurt, or else he would’ve been by your side immediately to protect you. He only notices that you’re injured when you’re on your way back to Mondstadt and you pass out because of the blood loss.

He tries very hard not to panic, especially when the memories of his father’s death kick in, and constantly reminds himself that this is not the same situation. You’re not going to die, you’re not going to leave him, not like that. It still takes a toll on him, and he knows that he could never forgive himself if you died. It’s likely that he has to hold back the tears while he rushed back to Mondstadt but he definitely refuses to give in to the urge to cry. He needs to remain level-headed, although he really has trouble with that whenever he looks at you to check if you’re still breathing.

While Barbara and the others treat your wounds, Diluc can’t stop pacing about the room. He knows that you’re in good hands but he’s so worried that he feels like he can’t think straight, no matter how hard he tries. He doesn’t care if he loses his reputation of being unfazed by almost everything – all that matters to him is that you survive and don’t hate him for putting your life at risk like that.

Diluc keeps his eyes glued to you during your recovery period. You’re not allowed to do anything as long as you don’t feel better, and whenever he can’t stay at home with you, he asks one of the maids to keep you company and have an eye on you. Most of the time, he tries to rearrange his schedule though, so that he can be with you. He makes sure that you have everything you want and need because he wants you to get better as soon as possible.

#zhongli x reader #diluc x reader #kaeya x reader #diluc ragnvindr x reader #kaeya alberich x reader #zhongli genshin x reader #kaeya genshin x reader #diluc genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact headcanons #genshin headcanons #gn!reader #gender neutral reader #reader insert

[miridiums-writing]

Barbarian Bakugou x Plus-sized!Villager!Reader

Summary ; reader loves in village that is ravaged by bararians, bakugou catches them and finds out they are mates

Warnings ; violence, there is implied sexual assault but it never happens kinda like a passing thought. I never actually state gender though reader does wear a dress, so if your someone who doesn’t like wearing dresses then you might have trouble fitting into the narrative. REMEMBER ANYONE CAN WEAR A DRESS, I WILL HYPE YOU UP. They eat in it, also they eat meat so if you’re vegetarian or anything of the sort you probably won’t relate, Bakugou yes he is a warning, swearing it is Bakugou after all.

AUTHORS NOTE ; ill have part 2 out hopefully in a few days, ill link both the petite reader version and the plus-sized reader to each other so whichever suits you better you can read.

Tag list : @squishytenya

Petite!reader version part 1

The village was alight, red ran rampant through the streets, the screams of young and old mixing to create a noise that would give anyone a headache. You were running as fast as you could, no shoes on, trying to pick up your skirts as you ran. You had been woken by a scream and hadn’t thought to put on shoes before you ran to escape the sea of arrows shot at your home. People dragged younger ones through the wreckage, others cried, others shouting for loved ones. Nobody seemed to be left unscathed.

Your feet were in tatters at this point, having ran through rocks and glass to get here. Your only motivation that got you this far, even with the pain you were in, was the orphanage at the top on town. On a slight hill further away from the village, secluded in a way. You hoped against hope the children were ok. You dodged through fire, adrenaline coursing through your veins. You had to make it. You had to keep them safe. Though in your blind panic you didn’t notice the figure stealthily following after you.

You were running up the hill now, twigs that littered the woods floor poking into your poor feet, causing you to slow slightly, but your determination kept you from walking. Just as the orphanage came into sight arms wrapped around your waist. You kicked in attempt to get away, hoping against hope you could escape, get to them. Those kids did nothing to deserve the pain. Your attempts did nothing but tire you more, your hope of escape starting to slip from your grasp. “Stay still dammit” a gruff voice stated. He moved you both back, further into the woods, blocking your view of the orphanage and kept you still.

“Oi Kirishima! Keep those idiots away from the orphanage” He called out further into the woods, not second later a muscular man with spiky hair and even spikier teeth seemed to appear in an instant and disappear just as quickly. With the disappearance of the other man he moved you so you could finally see his face, though his grip on you never loosened. If you were honest with yourself, he was rather pretty. Hard red eyes stared into yours and seemed to judge your appearance as you gaped at him. His blonde locks spiked out, much more naturally than the other mans, he had a defined jawline, and a look that screamed danger. In your curiosity you failed to notice how odd this whole situation was. Here you were being held down by an intimidation and rather frightening man, but you felt no fear towards him.

“Found you” he said, looking at you with a smirk as his face moved closer to yours. Just as you thought he was going to kiss you his face moved lower to your neck and started to pepper kisses and nips into the sensitive skin. You tensed in his hold, not sure what he was about to do, and scared for the outcome that seemed inevitable. Just then he roughly bit into your neck, causing you to shriek at the vast difference from what he was doing before and the pain that started to thump against your neck like a drum. When he was satisfied, he started to lick at your neck, no doubt cleaning up the blood. “There, now that’s sorted time to clean you up and get moving” He tightly grabbed a hold of your hand, pulling you close to his body. “If you try and run you wouldn’t like to know the fate of those kids you so wish to protect so behave.” You didn’t want to know what he could to, so you allowed him to pull you away from the orphanage.

He pulled you both down the hill and towards the town, he hadn’t told you his name and didn’t seem in the mood for light conversation, so you stayed quiet, not wanting to anger the man further than he already seemed to be. When you both got back to the village it was silent. A stark difference between the village you had left behind, and it set you on edge. He must have noticed how you had started to shake a little, though he didn’t say anything on it. “Hide you face into my back, quickly” he said, his voice slightly softer than earlier, though it didn’t stop the unease. Just as you opened your mouth to question it, he gave you a glare that made you close it instantly. You ducked your head down into his back behind him and tried to ignore the strares, questions swarming your mind. “right let’s move out” he shouted, his voice seeming even more loud now you were against his back, making you cringe slightly. With one hand now taking your weight he hoisted onto a horse, repositioning you in front of him to lean against his chest. “Get some sleep, its gonna be a long ride teddy bear”

When you woke you were still in his arms, though you were now wrapped up in a fur coat, keeping you warm from the wind. If you didn’t think about the fact he basically kidnapped you it could almost be sweet. He had positioned you in a way that meant the brunt of the wind was hitting against the fur coat, keeping you toasty warm. He was looking ahead, no doubt keeping control of the horse, though you did notice how he would glance down at you. Due to your position you couldn’t really see anything, giving in to the temptation of going back to sleep for now, who knew when you would be able to sleep again, you let your eyes closed and allowed yourself to relax, your head snuggling into his warm chest.

Your eyes fluttered open at a loud shout, startling you from the fragile sleep you had managed to get. “We’re almost there” He claimed, glancing down at your sleepy form curled into him. Cute. The thought was a fleeting one, but it made him freeze up slightly, he hoped you didn’t notice. This mate stuff was making him soft. The horse abruptly came to a stop and the man carefully gave you his hand to help you jump down. You noticed almost immediately this was much gentler than he had been previously, and honestly threw you for a loop. On one hand this was much nicer treatment than previously, even if he hadn’t been particularly bad, on the other hand what does this entail, does he want something in return? The man pulled you inside what looked like a large tent and pointed towards the bed to sit down, it was covered with fur blankets and looked rather nice and warm to cuddle up in.

“Look here’s the deal,” he said, sitting down on the floor before you, making your face in line with his. “You’re my mate, kinda like a soulmate, I guess. It’s a feeling. My name’s Bakugou Katsuki by the way. Call my Katsuki though, it’ll just piss me off if you call me anything else. Just, listen to what I say. Ill go get you some food, you look like you need it.” As Katsuki walks away you could hear him mutter under his breath “Skinny as anything” When he had officially left, and you decided he was far enough away you started to look around. The tent was rather spacious, but not to the point it was cold. If anything, it was so warm in here. Like an invisible fire was somewhere in the room keeping it warm. The tent itself smelled like wood pine and honeysuckle, and a hint of caramel, it felt more homely than your old village ever did. You knew you had to think through what he had told you, but you didn’t want to even think about it. Taken away from your home after it having been destroyed by them and he tells you you’re his soulmate and you need to listen him.

When Katsuki got back you were cocooned in the blankets, sure the room was warm, but as the night air drew in the rooms temperature seemed to drop drastically, so you had taken it upon yourself to collect all the blankets and pile them onto of yourself. Katsuki stood at the entrance dumbfounded at the sight, as in comparison he stood tall in his trousers and fur coat, with his necklace and earrings to adorn the look. He wasn’t used to feeling cold. He would need to thank his parents later for getting on at him to make sure he had enough blankets for his mate when it got cold. He placed the food down on the table and started picking apart the blankets until he revealed you, cuddling into yourself. “Look, I know its cold but you gotta eat, come on” He allows you to get yourself up, though you take one of the smaller blankets with you to combat the cold.

The meal itself wasn’t anything special. A meat of some kind with potatoes and asparagus. You were so hungry you ate it without question, too hungry to care. He watched you from the other side of the table, it made you slightly self-conscious but brushed it off as his thing, he had a habit of watching you. When you finished you made sure to tidy up your area as best as you could, not wanting to seem impolite. This made Katsuki scoff at you, your insecurity coming back quickly.

“Bed time” was all he said, even though you had been sleeping most of the day, the thought of curling up into the blanket seemed heavenly. As you climbed into the bed, securing yourself under the furs Katsuki came in behind you. He simply brought your body to his, circling his body around yours in a protective manner. With him so close to you, you found it hard to fall asleep. Though Katsuki seemed to find it easy, simply snuggling his face into your neck and falling asleep. You decided to go through your options. Option one, stay still and go to sleep unknowing to what could happen tomorrow, though by his current attitude and behaviour you now highly doubted it being too dangerous, or option two, somehow manage to escape his iron grip and run out of the tent, with no knowledge of where you were, how far from home, or what could be outside the tent. The thought of meeting something worse than Katsuki made you shiver and slightly move closer to him. At least you knew what he was capable of, plus you had the added protection that he claimed you as his mate, those usually ended happily. No one wanted to endanger their mate, it went against Barbarian law. Something you vaguely remembered researching when you were young and curious. With those thoughts in mind you allowed yourself to succumb to the warmth Katsuki provided and fall into a broken sleep.

Please reblog if you enjoyed

#katsuki bakugou #bnha bakugou #bnha x reader #bakugou katsuki #barbarian bakugou #bakugou x black reader #bakugou x you #bakugou x y/n #bnha bakugou x reader #bakugou x reader #bakugou x poc!reader #katsuki x reader #bakugo katsuki x reader #bakugo katsuki #katsuki x y/n #bnha katsuki x reader #bnha fantasy #bnha fantasy au #mha fantasy au

[tinyjeanmarco]

zeke relationship hc’s!

note: this was just going to be zeke as your husband, but it turned into outright zeke relationship hc’s! modern setting! hope you all enjoy! <3

zeke x gn!reader

warnings: none <3

you wouldn’t believe it, but.. zeke hit on you when you were out at the pool with friends on a hot summer day.

listen, he just thought you looked really hot and he didn’t wanna let someone so stunning slip away so easily.

he was so smooth about it too, he would come up to you, water droplets hanging off his golden, glowing skin, and hand you an ice cold lemonade.

you were really taken aback, unsure if you should trust a random bearded man at the pool who was hitting on you.

your friends were egging you on, saying it had been a while since you dated after your last ex, so give it a go.

agreeing, thinking it was time to finally let go, you asked him for his name and began flirting right back with him.

you two spent the rest of the time at the pool together.

your friends didn’t mind if you spent the day with him, thinking it was funny and also very good for you.

for some reason, it was. you had never met this man before, but suddenly  you just felt comfortable with him.

he asked you for your number after you began to feel tired, stating you were going to go. you gave it to him, not reluctant at all.

he asked you out after you exchanged numbers and you had nodded. he said he would text you the deets and gave a wink before turning to also pack his stuff and leave.

you joined back up with your besties, telling them all about him. they were pretty hyped about the whole situation, saying they would help you get ready for your date whenever it was.

you steadily spent more time with him after that date. that date being a trip to an arcade together. it was a really fun first date and you got to know him a lot better.

moving in with him was fun, moving the boxes in became sort of a game of who could carry the most boxes into the apartment. not necessarily at the same time, but overall. 

he unfortunately won that little game, boosting his ego more than you needed.

now, when he proposed to you, he was a mess of nerves, definitely not his regular confident self, which that in itself tipped you off that something was going on.

he took you on a date to the arcade you went to on your first date when he proposed. it was honestly really sweet, he made sure it was at a place with special meaning for you two.

zeke 10/10 ugly cried at your wedding. he just thought you looked absolutely stunning, he couldn’t help it.

he also probably got totally wasted at your wedding too which gave you tons of funny memories. 

you def whipped out your phone and recorded him being silly as well as taking fun pics with him.

the type to wake up before you and make you breakfast in his underwear.

he likes to bring you breakfast in bed whenever he can. 

wakes you up with soft forehead kisses, brushing his thumbs over your cheeks.

sometimes when he wakes up, he just decides to lay with you, watching how peaceful and comfortable you look.

you eventually wake up and catch him just looking at you, so you roll over onto him, just kinda plopping onto him.

he gives a hearty laugh and just wraps his arms around you whenever you do that, making sure you stay close to him and can’t get up. he wants to bask in the warm sunlight leaking in through the window.

don’t ask why, but when you run your fingers through his hair and scratch his scalp, he becomes a puddle of goo. (maybe it’s the monke genes)

if he were a cat, he would purr whenever you did that.

loves holding you in his arms on the balcony of your apartment, just enjoying the fresh air and sunlight.

he’s only allowed to smoke outside, cause we all know this man smokes too much.

you try to get him to stop as much as you can. he does try, but it’s really hard because it’s a stress reliever whenever he is overworked.

you haven’t been able to get him to stop completely but he definitely has cut down on how much he smokes since you’ve gotten together. just one step at a time.

although he is a smoker, i feel like he would have a really nice singing voice. he sings you to sleep sometimes. it’s just really melodic and gentle. 

that’s honestly another reason you try to get him to stop smoking, because it could harm his vocals really bad and then he wouldn’t be able to sing as well as he does now.

you love hearing him hum or sing along to music as he cooks for you.

sometimes you join in and sing duets together, whether you think you’re good or not, he loves your voice when you sing with him. really makes his day when you join in for the chorus!

a married, grown man, but still a literal child. takes you out on a sushi date and then takes you to a railroad track so you can run around being idiots, just talking.

likes to have deep, meaningful chats with you when you’re walking on the train tracks.

don’t worry, you guys are always safe when you visit them, he wouldn’t ever let anything happen to you or even put you in a dangerous situation if he can help it.

please, i see him as being really good at roller skating. he wants to teach you because it’s something he really enjoys. he will not let you do anything related to skating without elbow pads, knee pads, wrist guards, and a helmet.

buys you fun skates that match his.

also, he wont let you skate without safety gear but he’s out here wearing only wrist guards. mister “i’ve been skating for years” is a hypocrite.

to be fair, he doesn’t fall a whole lot.

you get nervous skating at first so he takes you to empty parking lots to teach you before moving on to skate parks.

ngl i forgot indoor skating was a thing so i didn’t mention it, but he would also take you to those places! would make sure you have your indoor wheels on when you go though.

he doesn’t want you to fall because you have your gummy wheels on, or get in trouble for using the wrong wheels.

you’re really good at it before you even notice because you have such a great teacher.

i see zeke also being the husband that wants to travel a lot. you would go to so many places and experience lots of things.

ziplining, sky diving, bungee jumping, cliff diving. all the things.

he loves going cliff diving a lot though, will yell super loud as he jumps into the water.

you’re scared the first time he takes you, never having done daring things like that before. he tells you that there is no pressure and if you want to go back to the cabin, that’s totally okay too.

you tell him with a trembling confident voice that you’re going to do it. he goes first so he can be ready to comfort you after you jump.

you actually had a ton of fun, the adrenaline pumping through you as you wrapped your arms around him, pulling him into a bruising kiss.

laughter surrounds you two as you get lost in one another.

hiking and canoeing are also something he really enjoys with you.

he tells you all the time how he wants to get a cat or dog so you guys can be like those instagram pages where people take their pets with them on adventures.

zeke also seems like someone who would like to go cold plunging! he likes the health benefits that come with it, as well as connecting with strangers.

now, one final thought since we are on adventure zeke who loves taking care of his mental and physical health, man loves to meditate.

he will make you meditate with him and practice mindfulness and breathing techniques.

10/10, zeke is good hubby and partner in life. he loves going on adventures with you and spending time with you. ♡

#zeke x reader #zeke yeager x reader #aot x reader #attack on titan fanfiction #zeke #zeke yeager #aot #snk #zeke headcanons #zeke fluff

[headcans-oneshots-and-stuff]

Private and Public

Fandom: Teen Wolf Pairing: Stiles Stilinski x reader Word count: 1.4k Summary: People don’t usually realize that you’re in a relationship since you weren’t one for PDA with your boyfriend. It wasn’t that you didn’t like to display affection, it was more the Public part that made you nervous. But one night at a party that might change. Warning: None Requested by Anon: malia x reader or stiles x reader. The reader is like a ('baby gay' for malia) (first relationship for stiles) and is shy/a bit nervous about doing things simple things like hugging or holding hands and they find it cute but also comfort the reader say stuff like its okay, we can take it slow, and kinda just doing things like hugging more often to get them use to it. idk sorry feel free to to change it up and do what you want. Anyway have a good day~ 🦊,🐺or🙃. A/N: so I realize I haven’t uploaded anything at all in over a week, but life’s a bitch so I’m not gonna make empty promises of me starting to upload regularly again. I guess thing’s will be uploaded when they’ll be uploaded. I’m really sorry for all those who look forward to scheduele stuff, but I hope you understand. Lot’s of love, Brina

The red plastic cup in your hand was still filled up to the brim, the only change was the temperature that it had taken on during the hour that you had nursed it without even attempting to take a sip of the gross beer inside. Honestly, you weren‘t all too sure why exactly you had agreed to tag along to the party, neither were you sure why you were even asked to. When Scott had heard of the party a bunch of juniors and seniors had planned to have on a clearing in the woods, he knew it was a recipe for disaster. The pack had tried its best to stop the party from happening altogether, but to no avail, so instead they decided that they‘d come along to keep an eye out for potential danger. Every single pack-member in the appropriate age-group - aka still in school - had shown up, even Brett and Theo had joined in, which meant that any potential danger would have to be careful. Still, you couldn‘t quite understand why you‘d been asked to come along since you were quote-on-quote ‘just a human‘ and were usually kept away from any immediate danger the second it seemed to be in your vicinity. Not today though, today you were basically dragged with them to attend the party no matter if you wanted to be there or not and Lydia had forced you to dress in something other than the nice PJ’s that you had been chilling in earlier that day. “Hey, it’s Y/N, right?” a boy asked as he joined your side. You inspected him for a few seconds until the cogs in your head finally clicked and you realized that he was in your english lit. class. “Mhm, you’re-” you bit your lip and squinted your eyes as you tried your best to recall what his name was, “James?” “Close, it’s Jim,” the boy chuckled and smiled at you. You recognized that smile and even though you had to admit that you were a bit naive, you knew that the boy wasn’t talking to you just for the sake of getting to know you as a friend. Not quite sure what you could do about it, you decided to give him the benefit of the doubt. “This party is pretty boring, what?” “Well, it’s a party in the woods in the middle of the week so I doubt there was much possibility for this to be the party of the century,” you shrugged and looked around at all the drunk people who’d definitely regret drinking so much the next morning. “You know,” Jim started and you had a bad feeling you knew where this was going, “We could get out of here, My parents aren’t home, sooo-” he scratched the back of his head and you just couldn’t help but sigh. “Listen Jim, you’re really nice, really, but I’m in a relationship.” “Oh, Ohh, okay, sorry I didn’t mean to...uhm… I just- I never saw you with anyone, I thought you were- I- Uhm- I’ll leave,” he rambled before taking a big sip of the beer he was holding and walking away with his ears tinted red-ish. You gave another sigh and shook your head slightly as you thought his words over. It was true, now that you thought about it, he had no real way of knowing that you weren’t single anymore and even though usually you didn’t mind that thought, suddenly it was somewhat bothering you. You and Stiles had been dating each other for just about a month now, but besides the other pack members and your families no one really knew about it since you weren’t really into PDA. Well, it wasn’t quite that, if you were honest. It was just that this was your first relationship and you were incredibly nervous at everything it included. It wasn’t that you felt uncomfortable with Stiles, it was the exact opposite actually, being with him was the time you felt most at ease, but you were just very anxious that you’d accidentally screw up. Of course, you also feared that your nervousness would annoy him and he’d decide that you were not worth it, but that fear was absolutely rootless since he was the most supportive boyfriend you could imagine. Oftentimes you could see the longing in his eyes when he was looking at you sitting besides him at Lunch and you knew that he just wanted to put his arm around you and give you a kiss, but held himself back for you sake. He also kept on telling you that it was okay and that you didn’t need to do something uncomfortable just to please him, that he was happy with all the cuddles and kisses he got in private and that he was more than ready to take it slow. What he did to help you otherwise was that he tried to get you used to a little bit of physical contact: hand holding in the car, small hugs throughout the day, cute little texts in class and the such. Suddenly, as you were thinking about it, you felt the strong urge to find Stiles and hug him no matter how many people were around and if you didn’t still have the completely full cup in your hand you’d think you could’ve been a little bit tipsy. You looked through the crowd searching for any sign of your boyfriend and the first thing that caught you eyes was the blond locks of a certain scarf-wearing-werewolf glimpsing through a group of junior girls that were giggling about something. With a rush of determination surging through you, you made your way through the masses of teenagers - somehow managing to hand your cup to someone on the way - and ended up only a few feet away from Isaac without having been accidentally punched or stumbling. It was like a scene in a movie when you came closer and recognized a few other pack members standing around Issac and they acted like a curtain that opened up as you got closer and revealed the most incredible boy in the world. If you’d been an outstander and had seen you stop in your tracks with a goofy, love-sick smile on your lips and your eyes almost watering up, you would’ve thought that you were watching a cheap romance movie, but you weren’t an outsider- no, you were you and you were looking at your boyfriend feeling full of love and admiration. Starting to walk again, you were sure to earn a few confused glances as you slid through between Isaac and Allison and more or less launched yourself at Stiles, your arms quickly interlocking around his waist and you face pressed into his chest. Stiles was obviously surprised at the sudden attack as he stumbled a few steps backwards before stabilizing and reciprocating the hug. You were very happy that your pack was so accommodating as they just shared some confused glances before continuing the conversation like nothing happened. “Are you okay?” Stiles leaned down and whispered in your ear, obviously worried by the sudden need for affection. “Mhm,” you nodded and basket in his hug for a few seconds more before looking up at him and smiling, “I just love you a lot and I missed you.” “I drove you here, we saw each other half an hour ago,” Stiles chuckled, but his cheeky smile showed that he was endeared by your sudden clinginess. “That was too long,” you just sighed and wished he would lean down to kiss you, but then your state of adrenalin and bluntness left you and your nervousness returned. Slowly you retracted your arms and went to stand beside him when you saw that the other pack members were looking at you with smiles on their lips. Blood rushed towards your face and your ears and you suddenly felt more embarrassed than you ever thought you would, even though you didn’t regret it. “You want me to bring you home? It’s getting pretty late,” Stiles asked silently but you could read between the lines and thankfully nodded, knowing that you’d probably ask him to come with you inside when you came to your house and cuddle. Because after all, Stiles was the best boyfriend you could ever imagine and if you couldn’t hug him all that much in public, then you’d hug the living health out of him in private.

#Teen wolf #teen wolf x reader #stiles stilinski #stiles stilinski x reader #stiles #stiles x reader #stiles stilinski imagine #pack x reader #mccall pack #mccall!pack #fluff #cute #pda

[forestwater87]

Chapter 15: Grand Gesture

Summary: GRAND GESTURE: He or she must be willing to put it all on the line now or risk losing the one thing they need to become whole-hearted. It’s life or death now.

CW: Smut in the last third of the chapter. Questionable quality.

Summer 2017

“Fuck!” Gwen felt her center of gravity shift as she leaned forward, overbalancing on the rickety chair she’d been using to reach the ceiling. It tipped perilously on two legs, then lost the fight with physics and sent her sprawling with a crash that shook the dozens of tiny papers taped around the room. She hit the ground with her hip and the side of her face, one of them making a disturbing crunch sound and both shooting bright white pain down her entire right side. “Shit!”

She was halfway to her feet, wondering if the crossed-eyes dizzy feeling was from lack of sleep, hitting her head, or marker fumes, when fingers closed around her upper arm and she was hauled upright. “Gwen! Goodness, are you okay?” David let go of her, his gaze roving around the room as he took a step back. “What happened in here?”

She looked around, taking a deep breath and noticing for the first time in hours the thick perfume of tacky glue and paint, as though David walking in had turned her senses back on. It was done, mostly. Well, no — it’d never really be done, but it was enough to prove her point.

She hoped.

While she was panicking, David had wandered over to the center of the room, ducking to avoid a string of origami animals dangling from the ceiling. “Is this for camp?”

“Yes — I mean, no, it’s from camp, and maybe we can reuse some of it but no, it’s . . . not really . . .” She’d planned this, during her mad crafting frenzy: how David would come home, wonder what she was doing, and she’d carefully tour him through everything — or maybe she’d let him get on with his morning routine while she added a few more things, made it just a bit closer to perfect.

But his presence had pulled her to a halt. She’d been like a shark all night, afraid to stop moving or she’d die, but now that he was here she felt drained, the giddy, terrified adrenaline that’d been keeping her going evaporating in an instant.

Though hey. At least she had a good reason to be tired, for once.

He frowned at her discarded supplies strewn carelessly around the room. “Are these from Art Camp?”

The question jolted her into action, and she stumbled forward jerkily, like the Tin Man without oil. “Yeah, but I already took it out of my paycheck, it’s fine. I’ll go shopping tomorrow for new stuff.” She wanted him to hear what she really meant, what she was trying to put together through exhausted babbling: that this was important, that it was worth sacrificing sleep and money for, that she loved him and she respected him and she wanted him to know that.

Finally, finally, he turned his attention to the walls. “Gwen, what is all this?”

“It’s you,” she blurted out, then winced and rested her forehead in her palm. “No, that’s not — it’s — some of the stuff you’ve taught me, look . . .” She took his hand, her nerves trembling at the brush of his fingers against her own, and pulled him toward the doorway. She’d made a messy semicircle around the room, right to left like a supermarket. Dropping his hand, she took a step back, steepling her fingers like she was praying and pressing them to her lips with another steadying breath.

She had one chance.

“Okay,” she began. “So . . .”

---

Gwen looked like she was on the verge of falling over, listing dangerously to the side as she led him across the room. There were feathers in her hair, and scraps of paper; she was speckled with color, marker and paint and even a smear of glitter glue on the tip of her nose, the pads of her fingers nearly black with a rainbow of ink that stained his hand as she held it. It was obvious she hadn’t slept, even more obvious that she desperately needed to.

But her eyes were bright even if the circles under them were dark, and she thrummed with an energy and animation David hadn’t seen all summer.

And he couldn’t bring himself to interrupt her, not when it finally felt like she’d returned to him.

“— song you taught me last year,” she said, and he felt a flash of guilt that he hadn’t been listening. She tapped the paper she’d stuck to the wall, the lyrics of his Camp Campbell song scrawled across it in uneven lines. “All the camp activities, remember? At least the most important ones.”

(It was really just the ones that fit best into the rhyme scheme, but he didn’t correct her as she moved on to a second piece of paper.)

“This is a list of all the facts about nature I’ve learned since I started here,” she continued, gesturing. This one was crammed so tightly with writing that he could barely read it, bullet points snaking in all directions and increasingly smaller handwriting as it moved down the page, until finally Gwen had started attaching sticky notes to the wall below and around the list. “I had to keep going back and adding things as I thought of them. I know I’m forgetting something, but I can’t —” She gestured around her head in a classic “scatterbrained” motion, chuckling weakly. “I’m kind of all over the place right now.”

Next: a bullseye, a pencil stuck point-first into the wall. “I couldn’t really shoot an arrow,” Gwen explained, “but remember that summer you taught me archery? I’m still pretty good at it — we went to a shooting range for Claire’s birthday last year and I was the only one who hit the target every time.”

Next: a messy drawing of a forest, a little stick figure kneeling next to a moss-covered rock. “That one time we got lost in the woods trying to find a good place for bug-catching, you got us out because you knew how to find north. You’d be pretty great in a zombie apocalypse.”

Next: a sheet of black construction paper poked through with holes, hastily taped to the back window so light from the lamp outside shone through in little pinpricks. He leaned closer and realized that they were in the rough shape of the constellations visible above Lake Lilac. “I didn't know much about stars and shit outside of, like, horoscope stuff — I mean, in the city you can’t even see them — but you always pointed out which constellations and planets were out during the summer and now I know them all too.”

And on, and on. Scale models of the crafts and activities they’d done at Camp Campbell, nature facts, and on one wall she’d tacked up a typewritten letter to the Director of Admissions at Queen’s University Belfast. Skimming it quickly, it looked to David like an application.

“I was trying to get into their Environmental Science program. I wrote about Sleepy Peak Peak and Lake Lilac,” she admitted, looking almost embarrassed. “I got in. And I mean, they’re not the best program out there, but they’re still in the top 300 worldwide so that’s pretty cool, I guess —”

“Belfast?” He leaned in closer, confirming that he’d read correctly. “Isn’t that in England?”

“Yeah.” She looked impressed, and he suppressed a weary smirk; yes, he did know a bit about the world outside of Camp Campbell. But she surprised him by adding, “I had to look that up, actually.” She shrugged. “Guess I should’ve just asked you, huh?

“Anyway, that was a couple years ago. I didn’t go, obviously,” she added, responding to his unspoken question. “International travel’s a bitch. I needed a scholarship, and my grades weren’t good enough. I think I only got in at all because of my letter.” She gestured at it, not quite meeting his eyes. “Which I never thanked you for. Or most of the stuff I’ve learned from you. I’ve been . . . kinda taking all that for granted. So, uh . . . thanks, David.”

He wanted to tell her she was welcome, that she didn’t need to thank him at all. That sharing these things with her had been the highlight of his life since they’d met, even if it hadn’t seemed like she cared about any of it. But there was a lump quivering dangerously in his throat and he didn’t trust himself to speak, so he just nodded.

After a second she cleared her throat awkwardly and led him over to a row of stick figures hanging from the ceiling. “Some of these are from Yoga Camp,” she said, pointing at a few of the ones contorted into uncomfortable shapes, “but also all that other stuff you do. Like smile exercises —” and yes, one of the stick figures had a big pink smiley face, “— and breathing techniques and stuff. I use those sometimes when I’m having a panic attack. They really help, even if smile exercises still make me feel like a dumbass most of the time.”

The decorations started to get more abstract as they made their way around the room, simple crafts and trivia giving way to colorful scribbles and symbols, representing things he’d said to her about her relationship with her parents, her love life. “You have really good advice, you know that? You could be the next Dear Abby or something, seriously. I think that’s still running.”

(It was; he read it every morning with his pre-breakfast tea.)

“These get worse, sorry . . . I was getting tired.” Gwen jerked her chin up at a wobbly butterfly — or was it a bird? — dangling over their heads. “I use your advice about hummingbird-ing all the time. With writing, mostly, but sometimes at work or something, too.”

He gently reached up and touched the bird’s feet, watching it spin in a lazy circle. Technically the idea had been his mother’s, a way to avoid burnout by flitting from one project to another and adding just a little bit to each, instead of devoting all energy and resources to one thing and slogging through until it was done. The whole idea was part of his ethos of being a counselor — wasn’t Camp Campbell a place to get a little taste of everything, after all? He remembered explaining it to Gwen during her first week at camp, just over five years ago.

He wouldn’t have ever imagined that she’d actually remembered.

He didn’t think she remembered any of this.

But the evidence was all around him — on the walls, hanging from the ceiling, dozens of examples, mementos of the tiny moments that meant everything to him. Immortalized, remembered, in increasingly sloppy handwriting and doodles.

In the corner was a bright red card that looked familiar. David moved over to it and laughed in recognition: it was one he’d sent her after her first or second summer at Camp Campbell, when he’d seen on Facebook that she was looking for work. He tugged it off the wall, careful not to damage the cheap cardstock, and smiled down at the deer wearing a plaid hunting cap, which he’d made out of tissue paper and markers (he’d gotten much better since then, thanks to a few years of Decoupage Camps).

‘Good luck on your job HUNT! I know you’ll slay the interview!’

“I’ve kept that for years to show my friends,” Gwen said, making him jump; he hadn’t realized she’d come up behind him, but she was close enough to nearly rest her head against his. “I felt like it really captured the kind of guy you were.”

Her breath prickled the side of his neck, and he distracted himself by opening the card — ‘oh deer, is this joke going on too long? I feel like it’s overkill!’ — noticing how worn the crease was, like she’d opened and closed it hundreds of times. “Does it?”

He felt her shake her head without having to face her, stray wisps of hair that’d escaped her ponytail tickling his cheek. “Not even close.”

Unable to resist, he looked back at her over his shoulder, and she took his arm, turning him around the rest of the way. He thought she was going to kiss him — she was close enough that he could see a smeary glue thumbprint on her cheek and what looked like half a smiley-face sticker in her hair — but she just took the card from him, setting it carefully on the couch before taking hold of both his hands. Her expression was grave, shining faint with hope, and between the craft debris and her naked earnestness, she looked incredibly young and vulnerable.

“There’s more,” she said, gesturing with her chin toward the far wall, “and I’ll let — I want you to look at it, but . . . I just had to tell you, I’ve been taking you for granted and it’s not right. I’ve been pretending I still think of you as this —” Pulling one of her hands away, she picked up the card again, her fingers shaking so the deer’s toothpick antlers clacked together, “— sweet, silly, kinda childish David, who belongs with someone sweet, and silly, and kinda childish. And I tried to be that and . . . I mean I sucked at it,” she said, breaking off with a weak laugh, dropping her eyes to their joined hands. “And it . . . kind of broke me. But I didn’t even think to ask if that was what you wanted, because I thought I knew what you needed, and that was — so, really fucked.” She looked back up at him, her eyes dancing with purple fire, her grip on his hand tightening. “And I — I don’t, you know so much that I don’t — I could fill the entire cabin with stuff I’ve learned from you, this doesn’t even scratch the surface.”

She paused, like she was waiting for him to interject, but David felt like he’d been turned to stone, paralyzed and unblinking while his brain whirled.

“But none of it matters if it doesn’t show . . . if you don’t know —” Her voice cracked, and she dropped his other hand, pressing a fist to her mouth. “— h-how amazing you are, how much you matter to this camp and to me and . . . and I didn’t know people could actually be happy 'til I met you. I mean, I guess I knew technically, but not that it was a real thing people actually were. But you figured it out. You’ve known what you wanted since you were a kid and then you got it and I’ve never done anything without second-guessing myself a million times but you just did it, and it meant making so many decisions about your life that could’ve turned out wrong but they didn’t because they were the right ones for you. And you knew it. You always have.” She swiped at her eyes with the heels of her hands, crying in earnest now. “You’re a marvel, David. I should’ve said that every fucking day. And I know it’s probably too little, too late, but I’m sorry. For not telling you and — and for everything.

“And I . . .” She swallowed hard, taking a few heaving breaths before continuing, and he knew she was trying to hold onto her composure even as tears poured down her cheeks, “I don’t know what you wanna do. With — with us, I mean. But you’re right, I haven’t been a good girlfriend to you, and if you don’t want to . . . if you want me to leave right now or after the summer ends or if you just wanna be friends or whatever , that’s fine. A-and — if you do . . . y’know . . .” Her face crumpled, her shoulders curling in on themselves. “I love you so much,” she managed, her words harder to make out through damp, hiccuping breaths. “Whatever — whatever you want — I — I — I trust you.”

Understanding pierced his chest, a small pinhole that allowed light to pour, warm and white, into his heart.

“I trust you.”

David hadn’t realized how desperately he’d needed to hear those words until that moment.

He stepped forward, plucking the card from her hand and tossing it onto the floor (he could make her another one, dozens if she wanted, hundreds) and tilting her chin up so he could kiss her. Her cheeks were wet under his palms, her mouth salty and acidic with the taste of not-quite-morning breath, and each brush of his lips against hers was broken by her pulling back to drag in a sobbing gasp, her mouth moving clumsily like she was as close to fainting from exhaustion and emotion as she looked.

It was, without question, the best kiss of his life.

He broke away to press his forehead against hers, sliding his hands from her face to cup the back of her neck and closing his eyes. “I love you too, Gwen,” he murmured, his heart fluttering at the giddily-incredulous, teary laugh she gave in response. “And I think you need to go to bed.”

She leaned back, and the bleary confusion on her face was so precious he rose up on his toes to press a soft kiss to her forehead. “Huh? But what about . . .”

“I’ve got some stuff to think about,” he said, then gestured at the crafts she hadn’t shown him yet, “and look at. And after that . . . we should talk. But it won’t be a very good talk if you fall asleep,” he added with a laugh as her eyes drifted closed.

She opened them halfway, just enough to glare at him, but the effect would’ve been more intimidating if she hadn’t been swaying slightly. “’m fine.” The adrenaline that’d been keeping her going was clearly wearing off fast, and David was a little worried she wouldn’t make it to bed, that he’d just find her unconscious on the floor of the hallway. “You didn’t sleep either,” she accused, pointing at him with a finger stained silvery with graphite.

Goodness, he loved her so much he couldn’t stand it. “I had a nap.” Not a long one, but he was used to not sleeping much. “Get some rest. We’ll talk in the morning.”

“It’s already the morning,” she complained, but like a sleepy robot she turned and shuffled back toward the front of the cabin. “I’m gonna brush my teeth and shower and stuff. So I look less like a sludge goblin.”

“You do that, Gwen.” He waited until the bathroom door had clicked shut before turning back to the mess she’d made of their living room. It was almost hard to tell the difference between what was art and what was trash left over, there was so much of both; it looked like an explosion had hit a crafts store.

Gwen wasn’t someone who put a lot of effort into things she didn’t care about. It was one of the most frustrating things about having her as a coworker, but he’d be lying if he said he didn’t love how unabashedly honest she was, how he could read her feelings just by looking at her work.

There was the soft sound of tape unsticking and one of the decorations sagged, a corner curling away from the wall and drooping down. He pushed it carefully back into place and fumbled for his phone, setting it to camera mode.

This was worth remembering.

---

Gwen was positive she’d never be able to fall asleep; how could she, when things were still so up in the air? But she wasn’t twenty anymore, and after the exhaustion and emotional turmoil of the last few hours — days, weeks; hell, if she was being honest it’d been years since she’d truly felt well-rested — and despite the anxiety buzzing inside her skull she was out in moments.

Soft fingers in her hair drew her back to earth, and when she opened her eyes David came into focus, crouching next to her bed so they were at eye level. He smiled as she blinked at him, warmth and sunshine he probably didn’t even know he was emitting. “Goooood morning, Gwen!” he chirped, his voice way too loud for how close they were, and she winced. “Sorry,” he added, his voice dropping to a murmur. “Habit.”

“It’s fine,” she said, because she’d missed his morning bellow so much more than she could ever miss having non-punctured eardrums. She sat up, clumsily swiping at her face to double-check for drool or errant eye gunk. “Morning.”

“How are you feeling?” He hopped onto the bed, making her and everything else on the mattress bounce. He was being so . . . normal, like all the drama last night had been a dream.

Fuck it. They had some hard, painful conversations coming; she could enjoy a little bit of normalcy while her brain booted back up. “Good,” she replied, yawning. “I mean, tired, but I’m always tired so —” Her blood chilled, and suddenly she was wide awake.

There went normal. All because she had to remind him of what an unloveable disaster she was.

But when she looked back up he didn’t seem annoyed. He leaned against the wall, stretching his legs out so they dangled off the edge of the bed. “It’s okay. I don’t mind.” She scoffed before she could stop herself, and his gaze flicked up to hers, taking her breath away. (God, how she’d functioned for almost four years without feeling more than a flicker of attraction to this man was unfathomable.) “Really. I want to know what’s going on with you.” His hand landed on her knee, light as a bird but blazingly warm even through her blankets. “All I want is for you to let me in.”

A swell of emotion swept up from somewhere in her chest, causing her eyes to prick with tears for the thousandth time. She looked away and sniffed as discreetly as possible — which wasn’t very, she assumed, since he immediately reached over and handed her a tissue from the pack he kept stashed in his pockets. “I mean, if you want me to complain, I can do that,” she muttered, tamping down another flow of tears through willpower. “I can complain about fucking anything.”

David’s laugh made her turn back toward him, because it didn’t have a trace of sadness or pity or anything she’d expected. It was so purely, entirely delighted , more than even he could fake, and he was looking at her like she’d said something surprising and wonderful.

“You really like it,” she blurted out, unable to hide the awe in her voice. “That I’m like this. Whiny and —” she waved vaguely “— bitchy, and whatever.”

“I don’t.” He shook his head and her stomach plummeted. But as she took a breath to respond he shifted closer, gently cupping the back of her neck so he could tap his forehead against hers. “I love it, Gwen. I love everything about you.”

A laugh burbled out of her before she could stop it, and she pulled away to hide her face. “Oh my god. You bastard. You’re so cheesy.”

His fingers closed around her wrists, tugging her palms away from her face. “I love you,” he said, kissing the skin she’d covered with her hands — the tip of her nose, each cheek, her top and bottom lip, her eyebrows.

“I love you, too.” She could already tell that if he was going to keep saying that to her she’d spontaneously combust, because this was all too cute and romantic and lovely and she still didn’t fully understand how this was happening, why he didn’t hate her.

But she’d promised she wouldn’t question his decision, whatever it was. She owed him that much.

His smile faded slightly, a faint line appearing between his eyebrows. “What’re you thinking?”

“Nothing,” she lied automatically, and when that only made him sigh she added, “I said I was going to trust you,” hating the note of defensiveness in her voice, because of the two of them she didn’t have much grounds for righteous indignation.

“Then trust me with how you feel.” It should’ve sounded too much like a cliche, something she’d tease him for, but he was right and they both knew it.

She’d put him through hell by not telling him the truth, and they both knew that, too.

Gwen closed her eyes, taking a deep breath and forcing herself to relax. Things were — they seemed okay, didn’t they? Almost normal, but better, because all her ugliness was out there for him to see and he knew about it and he didn’t seem to mind. And wasn’t that something she’d never thought she’d ever actually find? “I don’t get it,” she admitted, her voice sounding small and stupid. “I keep feeling like . . . like I tricked you somehow. Like I didn’t explain well enough why you shouldn’t want me, because if you really got it you wouldn’t be here. Not because I think you’re stupid,” she added quickly, desperately, “because I don’t, really! But — but even smart people can be . . . I don’t know, manipulated?”

The confusion in her voice made her pause, sit back. Manipulated? That couldn’t be right, could it? She wasn’t trying to manipulate anyone, and she was pretty sure you couldn’t manipulate someone by accident.

Or maybe you could; she hadn’t always paid a ton of attention to her psych classes in college.

“I’m sorry,” she managed after a few deeply uncomfortable moments of silence. “I’m trying, I promise, but I understand if . . . you know. Whatever.” (She still hated saying it, especially now that it seemed like it might not happen. Breaking up with David was hard enough without having to say it.)

He put his arm around her shoulders, tugging her into his side and kissing her temple. “Thank you for telling me, Gwen.”

“You’re not mad?”

She felt him shake his head as she rested hers on his shoulder, scooting down to make up for their (lack of) height difference. “I wasn’t really mad when I came back this morning,” he said, “even before I saw everything you’d made. I had some time to cool down, and I . . . started thinking, I guess.”

Gwen wanted to look up at him, but she wanted to soak in his warmth more so she nuzzled into the curve of his neck, inhaling the smells of floral detergent and piney-woodsy cologne left over from the day before. “About what?” she asked, like there could possibly be more than one answer. Like maybe he’d been pondering the sociopolitics of Malaysia or something.

He let out a little huff of laughter, and she knew without looking that he’d glanced up at the ceiling in a slow blink (that he insisted was less rude than rolling his eyes outright, even though it was just as obvious). “You. Everything that’s happened this summer — and before it.” His shoulder shifted slightly under her cheek, a shrug aborted halfway through so she’d be comfortable. “Things started making more sense after everything we talked about tonight. Like the day we . . . well, when you told me about that gentleman you . . . almost took home.”

“He wasn’t a gentleman, he was a douchebag,” she interrupted, immediately feeling like an asshole. But David chuckled and squeezed her closer, like he enjoyed her company even when she was being annoying (which he did; somehow he actually did) and she let herself relax against his side, believe that maybe things were going to be okay after all.

“I’ve thought about the stuff you said a lot since that day. Mostly the parts that made me feel the worst.”

She flinched. “I’m so sorry —” she began, but he cut her off with a kiss to her forehead.

“I have trouble with . . . rejection,” he continued, sounding embarrassed. Like that minor character flaw even came close to the millions of ways she was fucked up. “I — I guess you could call it ‘abandonment issues’? But at first, and for a while, all I could hear were the ways you didn’t . . . seem to want me around anymore.”

“But I did —”

“I know.” Another soft kiss, and she wasn’t sure if it was to reassure her or himself. “I know that now. And I think, knowing that . . . it made what you said sound different.

“You were drunk — I know, you downplayed it, and it wouldn’t have excused . . . but your judgment was still impaired. And you didn’t kiss him. Thinking back, it didn’t even sound like you really wanted to. Did you?” She shook her head, not willing to look up at him because no matter how gently he tried to frame this she still felt like it was her fault. “And I just couldn’t stop thinking, how if this had happened a few years ago you would’ve told that story so much differently. If we were still just friends, maybe. You would’ve stormed into the cabin raging about how some jerk had ‘put his mitts all over you’ —”

Gwen couldn’t help it; she burst out laughing, pushing away from him and resting her head in her hands. “That can’t be how you think I talk!”

“It was an edited version,” he admitted, flushing. His smile was wide enough to illuminate the room, catching and refracting the dreary dawn light. “Please come back?”

She snuggled into his outstretched arms, her heart panging at the plaintive note in his voice. She wrapped herself around him, legs entangled with his and arms squeezing his waist; she’d missed him just as much. “Your impression of me is really bad,” she said with an uncontrollable giggle that made her feel like she was fourteen.

“I’ll work on it.” For a moment he just held her, soaking in the relief of being together and being okay. (At least, that's what she was doing.) “Why did it bother you so much?” he asked after a minute or so. “It doesn’t . . . well, it just doesn’t sound like you did anything wrong.”

“I guess — yeah, maybe not, technically anyway. But you’d just visited and saw how terrible my life is, and I was having an even harder time being a less-shitty version of myself . . .” He made a soft noise, almost pained, and pulled her closer. “So when this asshole showed up and was, like, exactly the type of guy I usually go for, it felt like . . . I don’t know. Like the universe was telling me we didn’t belong together. That sounds stupid. Never mind.” She pressed her face against his chest with an embarrassed groan. “Pretend I said something that doesn’t make me sound like I write horoscopes for a living.”

“I like horoscopes!” he replied, because of course he did. After a moment he added, “Thank you for telling me. It . . . helps confirm some things I was thinking earlier, when I left. Because what you said, and what you’ve been saying for a long time . . . I’ve been hearing it the way that’d hurt me the most, but I think you meant it to make me hate you.” He paused for a second, then added, “Do you think I’m right?”

Gwen shrugged, feeling more than a little like one of his campers receiving an aggressively pacifist talking-to. “Yeah. I don’t . . . like myself all that much.”

“I’ve noticed.” And David pressed another kiss to the top of her head, like he was rewarding her for being honest. Or like he just couldn’t help himself. “You haven’t treated me very well lately, Gwen. And I was — am very unhappy about that. But I don’t think it holds a candle to how you treat yourself.”

She wriggled away enough to sit up and look at him, frowning. “So you’re, what? Willing to come back to a shitty relationship because you feel sorrier for me than for you?” she demanded, even though it would’ve been smarter to just not say anything and enjoy his pity while she still had it.

But again, she said she’d be honest. And the true Gwen was kind of a bitch.

His smile turned sad, and he carefully tucked a flyaway hair behind her ear. “See, that’s what I mean. You never give yourself the benefit of the doubt.” When she frowned, not understanding, he took her hand and began playing with it, wiggling her fingers and twining them with his. “I understand better, now. How you’re feeling and what you’re thinking. And I’m not going to let you treat me like I’m a kid, or — or stupid, or whatever. I know you don’t really think that,” he added as she opened her mouth to argue. “There’s a whole cabin’s worth of proof in the living room that you don’t really think that. That’s why I wanna try again. Miscommunications, misunderstandings . . . those are fixable. And now that I know what’s been going through your head, I don’t think you’ve done anything I can’t forgive.”

Her eyes filled with tears — again, and she was going to die of dehydration if she didn’t get ahold of herself — but this time she couldn’t resent them too much, not when it felt like she was brimming over with hope that was eager to burst free. “What’re you saying, David?”

He shifted back, turning so he was sitting cross-legged facing her, and took both her hands in his. “I keep . . . trying to find a way to say it,” he admitted, looking down at their twined fingers and flushing pink, “because ‘do you want to be my girlfriend again?’ is maybe too middle-school, but ‘dating’ sounds too casual, and —”

Gwen pulled out of his grasp and closed the distance between them, straddling his lap and taking his chin in one hand. His face lifted toward her before his eyes did, darting from her chest to over her shoulder before finally meeting her gaze. She wound her free arm around his shoulders, sliding her fingers into the short, soft hair at the nape of his neck. With the hand cupping his jaw she gently swiped her thumb across his lower lip, slightly chapped but still warm and softer than it looked, each breath skating across her skin feather-light and making her skin prickle. “Yeah,” she said, closing her eyes and pressing her forehead to his, holding back a laugh — or maybe a sob, she wasn’t quite sure; the emotions roiling inside her were too much to separate between happy and sad. “Whatever you’re asking, yes, I want it.”

She felt his smile spread under her thumb before he brushed her hand away, tilting his head so he could kiss her. “Good,” he murmured with a breathless chuckle, wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her closer. “I mean, I was pretty sure you’d say that, but still — that’s a relief.”

She laughed, shaking her head. “You idiot.” Her blood turned to ice, and she pulled away from him, stricken. For fuck’s sake, couldn’t she be anything but herself for five minutes? “I didn’t mean — !”

David smiled, far more fondly than she deserved. “I know, Gwen.”

Groaning, she buried her face in his shoulder. “I’m trying, really I am.”

“Don’t.” He put his hands on her shoulders and pushed her back until she was upright, looking down at him again. “Please don’t try so hard to be what you think I want. Just be you.”

“Right.” She forced her shoulders to relax, tilting her head back and rolling her neck until it cracked. “I’m . . . gonna have a hard time with that. ‘Just me’ is kind of the worst.”

“I know you think that,” he said, pressing his half-open mouth to the hollow of her collarbone and making her shiver. “And I’ll keep reminding you until you don’t think it anymore.”

She managed a weak chuckle, leaning into his lips as he moved up her neck. “Good luck with that.”

His answering laugh rolled over her skin, warm and teasing. “Haven’t you heard, Gwen? I like projects.”

Jesus. Grabbing a fistful of his hair, she tugged him upright, taking a moment to appreciate his gasp that wasn’t just surprise. “I love you,” she said, loosening her grip and kissing his forehead, petting away the furrows her fingers left in his fluffy red hair.

His expression softened. “I love —” he began, and Gwen tightened her hold on his hair and pulled back, just so she could watch his eyes flutter shut and his breath catch, “— y-you too.”

Dragging her palm down the side of his neck, she settled her thumb on his throat, feeling his pulse flutter rapidly, and bent to kiss him again. She hadn’t necessarily meant to turn it into anything, just wanted to feel his lips against hers, but her fingers tightened involuntarily in his hair and he moaned, and it was a lit match dropped down her throat to a stomach full of gasoline, a whoosh of heat blazing to life in the pit of her belly. “David,” she breathed, not so much because she had anything to say but because she needed to say it, to roll the sound of his name around in her mouth, let it melt like chocolate on her tongue and infuse her whole body with sweetness.

“Gwen,” he said, and she thought he was doing the same thing, saying her name just because he could, but then his hands were on her shoulders and he was pushing her away, gentle but firm. “Gwen, wait, we should — talk about this —”

“Oh, shit, yeah. Okay. Sorry.” She sat back, her face warming. But as she settled her weight more firmly in his lap he jolted; and if she’d thought she was embarrassed it was nothing to the way his already-flushed cheeks flamed pink, spreading in blotches up to his hairline and the tips of his ears, down to disappear underneath his bandana. He stammered out an apology, avoiding her eyes even as his cock twitched, like bashfulness could disguise how hard he was against her. She quickly rose back up — the last thing she wanted was to make him feel ashamed, or pressured; everything between them was as tremulous and new as the first time — but realized almost instantly when David squeaked that this just shoved her chest in his face.

She hovered there for an awkward second, the two of them staring at each other in mortified horror. Then his whole expression wavered, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth before quickly flattening into a thin line, and the break in his composure took hers out too. She snorted, and they both burst out laughing. “I’ll just sit over here,” she said through giggles, rolling off his lap and settling on the other side of the bed with her feet curled under her so they were no longer touching. He made a small sad sound like a squeeze toy deflating, and Gwen rolled her eyes and stretched out one leg until her foot brushed his knee. “Here, hold my foot if you’re that lonely. It’s practically holding hands.”

His eyes widened, hands closing around her ankle and setting it on his thigh with something like reverence. “Thank you,” he murmured, gently tracing the outline of her foot with his fingertips. “That was very sweet, you know.”

God, she was blushing, wasn’t she? She had to be. “Yeah,” she agreed, trying to ignore the ticklish feeling as he kept playing with her foot like it was a toy doll. “Felt weird, too. I kinda wanted to insult you or something, just to balance it out.”

He smiled, wiggling her big toe like he was playing that little piggies game she used to do with her nieces when they were babies. “That’s my Gwen.” And he sounded pleased, almost proud, like she’d done something wonderful.

But that was David; even though sometimes he was completely oblivious, sometimes he noticed and appreciated the tiniest, most inconsequential things. That’s my David, she thought, her heart swelling like it was going to burst. “You wanted to talk about something?” she reminded him, waggling her toes to get his attention.

“Oh! Right.” He gently took her foot and set it on the bed next to him, grabbing a pillow and hugging it to his chest. “Sorry, I was getting distracted, and that was the whole point of you moving over there.” (He said it with a pout, like she’d gone to Spain instead of just out of arms’ reach.)

“I thought the whole point of me moving over here was so you could cool down, tiger,” she teased. But when he didn’t respond except to flush darker, his gaze firmly on a fraying edge of the pillowcase in his arms, something weird and hilarious clicked in her head. “Oh my god, are you into feet?”

“No!” He lifted his head to give her a tragically betrayed expression. “Not a weird amount!”

She grinned, poking his thigh with her outstretched foot. “What’s a weird amount?” she asked.

He shrugged, not quite able to maintain the kicked-puppy look when a smile kept trying to break through. “I don’t know. Watching people in heels step on fruit. I don’t like that sort of thing, I’ll have you know,” he added defensively, and for a second Gwen was sure he’d stick his tongue out at her.

“Sure, but you’re into them enough to know those videos exist.”

“I think I’d like to go back to you being nice to me,” he muttered, and she felt a stab of panic before he gently patted her ankle and met her gaze with a slight smile. Like he knew what she was thinking.

So she shoved past her nervousness and said, “But I thought you wanted me to be myself. And as myself, I can’t believe you never told me you were a foot guy!”

“I’m a you guy. And . . . you know. All of you. You’re perfect.”

“Yeah, but the feet are a thing, huh? At least a little bit.” When he didn’t answer she laughed, shaking her head. “So do you, like, want a footjob or something?”

“I really don’t.”

“How have we been dating this long and I didn’t know about this? What other freaky sex things are you hiding?”

“Nothing!” he said, hugging the pillow tighter. After a moment he looked away and added, “I didn’t want you to think I was weird.”

“David.” She leaned forward, waiting for him to look at her and see in her expression just how ridiculous that was. “You can’t get weirder than I am. You know that.” When the color in his face receded just a little bit, and his eyes flicked back toward her hopefully, she sighed and attempted to dredge up one of the strangest kinks in her vast library. “I’d totally fuck Drogon.”

He frowned thoughtfully. “From Game of Thrones? So would I- Iiiiiii mean, s-so would most people.”

“No, not Khal Drogo, Drogon. The dragon. Not like a humanized version, either — just full lizard.”

“Oh.” He smiled a little, almost a smirk, and Gwen felt distinctly, lovingly judged. “That does make me feel better. Thank you.”

“No problem. And tomorrow I’m gonna go into town and get a pedicure, just for you.” She wiggled her toes at him, grinning. “I’m thinking something slutty, like hot pink.”

“Gwen!” He shoved her foot away, laughing. “I was trying to have a serious conversation before you started talking about — about slutty toes and dragons!”

She cracked up too, falling over onto her side and nearly toppling off the bed. “Slutty toes,” she repeated breathlessly, and it took a few minutes to recover; every time they tried to make eye contact they burst out laughing again.

“Okay, okay.” Gwen finally sat back up, trying in vain to smooth her hair out of its mass of tangled bedhead. “I’m sorry, you were trying to say something serious. What’s up?”

“Right.” He took a deep breath, fingers knotting in her blankets until his knuckles were white. “It’s just . . . it was starting to seem like we were going to — um, you know. Be intimate.”

She resisted the urge to tease him for his word choice. “I was open to it, yeah.”

“M-me too! That’s why . . . well. Okay.” He took a deep breath, dragging his hands down his face, and Gwen noticed for the first time how tired he looked.

“Hey, we don’t have to do anything,” she said, shifting closer so she could put her hand on his shoulder. “You know that, right?”

He nodded, patting her hand before brushing it away so she didn’t feel rejected, and once again she felt a rush of love so intense it almost brought tears to her eyes. He could be so simply, effortlessly kind, without even thinking about it. “I do. At least, I think I do. I- I mean, I know I do, but it’s hard to . . .” He waved his hand around his head like his thoughts were scattering birds.

“The night before we . . . well. Ended things.” He flinched at his own words, and she felt the same pain flicker over the surface of her heart.

It’s okay, she reminded herself, wishing she could sweep him up in her arms and block out all the bad memories she’d put there. It still hurts, but we’re going to be okay.

Like he’d been thinking the same thing, David stretched out his hand to find hers, squeezing her fingers. “I said I didn’t want to,” he continued in a rush, “you know. Be together like that. And you . . . seemed to get mad — at me. And then the next day you broke up with me.” He squeezed his eyes shut, taking a shuddering breath that had tears behind it, and she tightened her grip on his hand. “It’s okay,” he said, opening his eyes and giving her a slightly-watery smile. “I’m okay. But I just need to know . . .”

“God, no,” she jumped in, taking up the thread of his question as it trailed off into nothingness. “David, no, it had nothing to do with — I freaked out, but I was already — I mean, I was gonna fall apart over anything, it didn’t have to be that. You didn’t do anything wrong, I promise.” She couldn’t stand it anymore, so she pulled his hand to her lips, kissing his knuckles because she wanted to respect his need for space but she had to touch him or she was going to die.

He swallowed, watching their joined hands for a moment before looking away. “You — that really hurt me, Gwen. I just needed to tell you that.”

All the anger he’d thrown at her in the past several hours, all the pain and frustration, and it was those small, matter-of-fact words that slashed her heart in two. “I’m so sorry. I had no idea.”

She hated apologizing — it always felt weak, or dangerous, or something. Like it was an opening for someone to hate her even more, like she was handing them a weapon to hold over her head for the rest of her life. (It was why she hated receiving them, too; she could be spiteful and vindictive as anyone, but it was uncomfortable watching someone flay themselves in front of her.)

But with David . . . it didn’t feel like she was giving him leverage when she told him she was sorry. She wasn’t scared he’d hold onto it and throw it back in her face someday. She wasn’t resentful of him, and she wasn’t worried about how he’d react.

She wasn’t anything but truly, genuinely sorry.

And he didn’t brush it aside, act like she had no reason to apologize the way she’d half-expected. Either she hadn’t been giving him enough credit, or he’d grown up while she wasn’t paying attention. Maybe a little of both. But whatever the cause, he just stroked her cheek with the backs of his knuckles and nodded, a ghost of his smile returning for a second. “It’s okay,” he said, looking at her like she was — god, like he loved her. “Hearing it helps.”

She wasn’t sure if he needed more than that, but she wasn’t going to let a single doubt linger in his mind. “Seriously, David, you can — I won’t ever be mad at you for saying no, ever. For any reason, or no reason or . . . whatever. It’s okay. It’ll always be okay.”

“I — um, I had a reason.” He spoke fast, his eyes wide like he’d surprised himself. Still, he pressed his lips together into a flat line and met her gaze, clearly nervous but just as clearly not intending to end the conversation until they’d said everything they needed to. He was so brave. “I should’ve mentioned it at the time, but I guess I was scared.”

Gwen snorted, rolling her eyes. “Yeah, I can relate to that.”

He rewarded her with a small, soft smile before continuing, “The thing is, everything had just been so gosh-darned strange between us, and it felt like you were avoiding me all the time — except when we were together like that.” He scratched the back of his neck, looking embarrassed. “It sounds silly, but I couldn’t help but worry that maybe that was . . . all you were interested in me for.”

Her stomach sank. “And then when you said no, and I freaked . . .”

David nodded, his throat moving as he swallowed again. “Yeah,” he murmured, looking away. “It — it sure felt like you only wanted me for that one thing, all of a sudden, and when you couldn’t get it . . .”

“I dumped you,” she finished, covering her mouth in horror. “Oh, David.”  

“I was a little nervous to tell you to stop.” He pulled his hands from hers so he could fidget, twisting his long fingers together. “Earlier — just now. A minute ago. So we could talk. I — I know it wasn’t fair, but I couldn’t stop thinking you might get mad at me again.”

“I wasn’t mad,” she replied, her hands shaking with how badly she wanted to hug him. (And god, what a change from their normal paradigm, that she was the one who had to hold herself back from a hug.) “I mean, I was, but never at you. I was mad at me, for screwing things up. I — you’re right, I was avoiding you, or avoiding talking to you, I guess. Because I didn’t know how to talk to you, how to act so you wouldn’t find out that I’m . . .” Her throat closed, thick and gummy with tears, and she took a deep breath and swallowed them back. “Rotten,” she finished, which was a stupid, melodramatic word but it felt right; it described the way she still felt despite everything, squishy and overripe and putrid. “It was getting harder to hide, once we were together all the time. And when we were fucking —” She couldn’t tiptoe around the words like David, not when she could just say it and watch him flush red. Even her rotted heart skipped a beat whenever he smiled. “It felt like I didn’t have to try so hard. I couldn’t be amazing, but I could make you feel amazing. And if I could do that . . .” She sniffed, looking away and wiping her face clean. “I thought I was letting you know how much you mean to me,” she admitted, the realization coming right on the heels of the words. “I mean, obviously I wasn’t — add that to the list of things I suck at — but when you didn’t want to have sex, it . . . I took it really hard.”

Her face was turned away, so his hand on her shoulder made her jump. “It felt like I was rejecting the only thing you had to offer,” he guessed, his voice soft and sad but no longer on the verge of tears. “Gwen . . .”

“It’s fine,” she said, shaking her head like she could rattle her self-pity out of her head. “That was just me being stupid, I know that. More importantly — seriously.” She looked back at him, at his beautiful open face, at the way he was watching her like she could possibly have something to say that mattered. “It’s never been about sex with you, David,” she said. Felt the encroaching tears yet again and decided to ignore them. If they came, they came; they weren’t going to stop her, because it was the most essential thing in the world that he knew, that he believed her. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, the sex is really good —” He chuckled, blushing exactly the way she’d hoped he would, and it gave her a little glowing spark of strength, “— but it doesn’t even come close to being what I love most about you. None of that stuff —” She gestured toward her bedroom door, and the mess of crafts cluttering their common room. “— comes close. It’s — everything, a billion other things I don’t know how to explain or describe or show you but I love you, so much, more than I’ve ever loved anyone and it scares me, and — I’m rambling. Sorry.” She shrank back, feeling like an idiot again. “I just wanted you to know that. It . . . we don’t have to do anything you don’t want to, ever, and I’ll never be mad at you, or disappointed, or anything like that.”

“Thank you, Gwen.” He was quiet for a minute, and she felt the tension ratcheting up in her shoulders with each long, spiraling second. Part of her wanted to snap at him to just say something, finish the damn thought before he gave her a heart attack, but that was her anxiety and regret talking, and she never wanted to take her own issues out on him ever again.

(She probably would, considering what a mess she was. But she sure as hell wasn’t going to do it on purpose.)

“You’re right, though.” David’s voice was a surprise, as was the soft laugh accompanying his words. He was sitting with his head tilted back against the wall, looking up at the ceiling like he could see through it to the fading stars and brightening sky. His gaze dropped to meet hers, and he immediately looked down and away, biting his lip to try and hide a smile. “We are pretty darn great together.”

A massive weight dropped from Gwen’s chest, rolling away like a stone. “Yeah,” she agreed. Then, to test the waters: “I taught you well.”

It worked; he turned back toward her, his shyness replaced with half-serious indignation. “I like to think some of it was natural talent!”

“Ehh,” she teased, holding her hand out flat and seesawing it back and forth in a “so-so” motion. “Pretty sure enthusiasm was doing most of the heavy lifting in the beginning there.”

He crossed his arms over his chest with a disbelieving scoff. “Well, I never!”

She pressed her lips together to keep from giggling. What a dork. “Y’know, I should say we were insanely good. But I dunno, for all I know you’ve totally lost it.” Shaking her head mournfully, she quickly glanced over to make sure he wasn’t actually offended.

His mouth dropped open, his eyes growing wide before narrowing. “I haven’t lost anything!” he snapped, and — oh, the playful irritation in his voice made her stomach twist. Not in the awful sick way she’d been tied up in knots earlier, but with a flush of heat that took her breath away.

Managing a smirk, she laid back on her elbows, a warm glow of satisfaction blooming in her chest as his gaze dropped to her stomach, to the narrow strip of skin where her camisole had ridden up. She waited until he dragged his eyes back up to her, dark and intense like the ocean in a storm, then grinned at him.

“Wanna bet?”

His face lit up — or, not quite. Because his smile was bright and warm as sunshine, but underneath the tenderness was a sharp competitive edge that he almost never turned on her. It was almost intimidating, but the shiver it sent down her spine had nothing to do with fear. “Always,” he replied.

Before she could respond he’d pushed himself to his knees and grabbed her just above her calves; a quick tug forward and Gwen was pulled flat on her back, dragged down the bed until her body was sprawled out beneath him. He let go of her, bracing his hands on either side of her head and bending down to capture her mouth in a kiss.

She curled one hand around the back of his neck and pulled him closer, bending her knees so he was caged between her legs and arching her back to bring as much of her skin against his as possible. He was warm, almost uncomfortably so — her furnace, her own personal sun, and she wanted nothing more than to melt into him. When he abandoned her mouth in favor of trailing long, suckling kisses down her neck she pressed her lips together, biting hard on the inside of her cheek to keep from making a sound.

“You could’ve —” A gasp, too sudden for her to swallow it back, and she felt David’s satisfied smirk against the base of her throat as he bit down again. “— given me a concussion, you asshole.”

He hummed in assent, his lips skating up to her ear and his tongue lapping at the sensitive spot just behind it. “I know,” he said mildly, “but I didn’t.”

He gently took her earlobe between his teeth, and she couldn’t help the strangled noise that was somewhere between a moan and a sigh. Grabbing his hair again, she dragged his mouth back for another kiss, enjoying the shudder that rolled down his spine and made him tremble everywhere his body was touching hers. For a few dizzying minutes she held him there, barely allowing either of them to draw breath. His mouth was blood-hot, warmer than even her fevered skin, and she didn’t know exactly where she wanted it because she wanted it everywhere — against hers, his tongue lapping at the roof of her mouth and making her shiver; around one of her nipples, his teeth catching on the pebbled skin; sucking bruises into her inner thighs, closing around her clit, dipping inside her cunt, her asshole, along the sensitive strip of skin between the two. She wanted him to kiss her places that weren’t even close to erotic but she knew would burst into flame if he so much as brushed his lips over them: the bone jutting out from her ankle, the ticklish spot inside her elbow, wherever the fuck he wanted to press the gorgeous wet heat of his mouth she wanted to let him, because from the very first kiss he’d been good, better than he’d had any right to be but time and experience had worked their magic and now his mouth could ruin her; without even trying he could reduce her to twitching, shuddering goo.

“Take this off,” she gasped, not sure if she meant her clothes or his because she was wriggling out from under him and trying to remove both at the same time, her fingers clumsy and shaking with how badly she needed to touch him without any fabric in the way. She struggled to her knees, practically yanking her camisole off and throwing it across the room before hooking her fingers in his belt loops and dragging him close enough for her to undo the buckle. “Come on —”

“So I won?” He laughed breathlessly, untucking his shirt and pulling it over his head in one fluid motion, smugness making him unfairly graceful like he was trying to show off.

“Sure, whatever,” she muttered, because who cared about some bet when he was kneeling half-naked in front of her? They’d had silly, jokey sex but that was not this, not when he was so beautiful she was having trouble looking directly at him, hair mussed and lips damp and swollen and pink blooming in blotches under the light constellations of freckles across his skin. He looked debauched, flushed and obscene even with half his clothes still on, and there wasn’t room in her brain for humor when all she could feel was clawing shaking need. She dropped onto all fours, leaning down to trace the hard outline of his cock with her tongue, and even through his shorts he was burning warm. He sucked in a sharp breath, his pulse spiking under her mouth, and Gwen couldn’t resist closing her lips around the shape of his erection, breathing in the salty-ammonia smell of precome and feeling her mouth water. “David,” she began, but there was no end to that sentence so she lifted her head slightly, bit the delicate ridge of his hipbone where it peeked out from the waist of his shorts, caught him as his hips stuttered forward. She kept him steady, one hand splayed across his lower back, as she rose to her knees without lifting her mouth from his skin: over the barely-there softness of his stomach (no werewolf six-pack here, despite his lean strength), tongue swirling among the faint red hair below his belly button, following the curve of his ribs, just barely brushing one nipple — he made a small, strung-out noise in the back of his throat, almost despairing as she moved on up to his neck — until she found his lips again, dragging him into a bruising, breathless kiss.

When she pulled away David’s smile was gone, drawn out of his mouth and leaving him panting. “Okay,” he murmured, soft and almost reverent, but before she could figure out what specifically was okay he hauled her forward like she weighed nothing, capturing her lips for a second before trailing down her throat, pausing at a sensitive place above her pulse point and biting down hard, sucking the skin between his teeth.

Pain bloomed under his mouth, rippling out into shockwaves of cold-hot pleasure, and when he bit her again she couldn’t hold back a moan. “You’re gonna — leave a mark,” she gasped, gently shoving his head away and running her fingers over the damp skin. It was already tender, and judging by David’s expression, contrite and amused and darkly heated, it was going to be a hell of a hickey. “I can’t hide this!”

“I’m sorry!” he tried, but it wasn’t close to convincing when he couldn’t hide his grin. His eyes drifted down to the mark again and he licked his lips, expression growing dazed for a moment before he snapped back up to look at her face. “I can make you a bandana, if you want. Just until it fades.”

“Fucker.” Gwen laughed, not so much because it was funny but because it was him, and she loved him more than she could possibly stand. Tired of the overheated, confining clothes she was still wearing, she shimmied out of them, tossing her pajama shorts and half-soaked underwear without bothering to see where they landed. “Come here,” she said, pressing her legs together and shivering at the wet slide of her inner thighs and labia, a thousand nerve endings sparking to glistening life. “You can make it up to me.”

She swore she could almost see his mouth water, his gaze dropping between her legs as he took a deep breath and swallowed hard. “Yes, ma’am,” he said — and they’d never tried that before, but judging by the way his cock twitched and his eyes jumped sheepishly to hers, it was something he’d thought about a lot. Filing the information away for later, she held out her hand and pulled him closer when he took it, resting her forehead against his. It took just the slightest shift in the angle of her head to kiss him again so she did it without thinking, her hand sliding between their bodies to curl loosely around the outline of his erection.

He gasped shakily against her mouth, his hands fluttering up and down her waist like he couldn’t decide where to touch her. One of them dropped to her ass, a light, almost hesitant touch, and she rewarded it with a soft groan; he made a weak noise in the back of his throat and pulled her closer, kneading her ass before slipping lower, between her legs. The heel of his hand brushed teasingly against her clit as he pressed two fingers into her, and she mimicked his pace, gliding her palm down the length of his clothed cock and relishing the way his fingers twitched against her inner walls.

He fingered her like that, slow and steady, for — she didn’t know how long. Lost track of the strokes that sent warmly buzzing tendrils up her spine, lost count of the breaths gasped raggedly between their lips, of the kisses that melted into one another until she wasn’t entirely sure where she was, she was hyper aware of the heartbeat pounding in her clit and every too-gentle drag of his hand but numb to literally everything else that wasn’t right here, wasn’t David —

“Fuck,” she breathed, pressing her forehead against his shoulder with a shuddering sigh. She turned her head and lapped at his throat, sucking his skin into her mouth and biting down hard enough to make his fingers jolt inside her, pressing against her g-spot for one delicious moment. “God, I -- please, David, just make me come, please --”

Another shiver, another twitch of his fingers that took her breath away. “Okay,” he said, his voice strangled and hoarse. He pulled out of her and sat back on his heels. “Lay down, all right?”

Yes, yes, whatever he was thinking was 100% all right with her. She almost kneed him as she scrambled into position, but her embarrassed giggle evaporated as he lowered himself onto his elbows, scooching her up the bed like she weighed nothing and settling between her legs. Alarm cut through her arousal, her mind immediately trying to calculate the last time she’d showered, let alone shaved --

His eyes flicked up to hers, a small smile tugging at his lips. “I know,” he replied before she’d even opened her mouth. “I promise, I really want to.”

Oh, god. She covered her face to muffle a squeak, flopping onto her back and looking up at the ceiling. “I’m that predictable, huh?”

David hummed thoughtfully, the sound vibrating up the inside of her thigh. “Only with some things. Other times you surprise me quite a bit.”

“Yeah?” He kissed the top of her mound, his tongue dipping into the V formed by her lips and just brushing her clit — a teasing touch, his mouth moving away even as she lifted her hips instinctively. “I’m surprising?”

“You are,” he said, the camp-counselor cheer in his voice making what he was doing feel even more obscene. He traced the line of her cunt with his mouth before gently fingering her open. “The first time you did this, for example. That surprised me quite a bit!”

“This?” She knew exactly what he meant — her stomach still dipped and swooped at the memory of kneeling on the floor of his shower, the heady rush of confidence and vulnerability she’d felt looking up at him with his cock at her lips — but she tilted her head back with a sigh and breathed, “Pretty sure I’ve never eaten you out before. Not that I wouldn’t be into that, just saying.”

He gasped and spluttered, pulling back to wipe his mouth and staring at her with wide, shocked eyes, then coughed, tapping his chest with his other hand. “Excuse —?!”

When he lowered his head to cough again and take an unsteady breath, Gwen sat up on her elbows, not sure if she should be amused, worried, or mortified. “Oh my god, please tell me you did not just choke on cunt juice!”

David gave her a disgusted look, shaking his head and clearing his throat. “There had to be another way to word that,” he said, as primly as he could while still struggling to catch his breath. “But — um, you didn’t…w-was a joke, or…?”

“I meant it,” she admitted, “but I get it if you don’t want to, don’t feel pressured either way —”

“No — I want to.” He looked startled by his own words, and immediately dropped his gaze, smoothing his palms down her thighs like he could disguise how his fingers trembled. “Sometime. If — if you do.”

Gwen let the awkward silence linger for another moment, not quite sure how to move forward. “Good. That’s…something to put on the to-do list.”

“Y-yes. Okay.” He did meet her eyes then, brightening. “See, you did it again!”

She frowned. “Did what?”

“Surprised me.” He leaned over her body to tug her into a slow, sweet kiss. When she pulled back to breathe he cupped the back of her neck, holding her close and brushing his nose against hers. “You’re an adventure every day, Gwen,” he murmured.

“Yeah, I’m a real goddamn roller coaster,” she grumbled, shifting her hips upward in a blind search for his touch. “And I’d appreciate it if you’d fucking ride me already.”

David laughed softly against her mouth before turning his attention to her jaw, throat, collarbone — a damp, shivery brush of his tongue against her skin moving down her body. “Well goodness, Gwen, now I’m confused.” She both hated and loved the smug, teasing tone he got whenever her composure cracked. “I could make love to you,” he continued, nipping the skin just below her bellybutton and making her jump, “but I thought you wanted me to do this first.”

He closed his lips around her clit and sucked gently, catching her with an arm behind her back as she arched toward the maddening wet heat of his mouth. Lowering her hips back to the bed with infuriating tenderness, he paused, resting his cheek on her inner thigh and looking up the length of her body. When she met his eyes he smiled, pausing to press a chaste kiss to her leg before returning her gaze.

“What do you want, Gwen?” And he asked it untauntingly. Seriously. Like he wanted nothing more than for her to tell him what to do, and like he’d do it without question.

His sincerity was going to be the death of her, she decided with a groan, burying her hands in her hair and shielding her face from his view with her arms. “Fuck. I don’t know. Everything.”

When it came to David, she always wanted everything.

“That’s a real swell coincidence, then!” He traced the seam where her hip and leg met, then dipped down, dragging his fingertips through the wetness smearing her thighs before swiping them up to circle her clitoris. “Because ‘everything’ is exactly what I’d like to give you.”

She barely had time to absorb the statement before his mouth was on her again, sliding the hood back with his lips before swirling his tongue beneath it and around the exposed clit. It was almost too much, too sensitive, bordering on painful and if he stopped she might actually die; she knotted her fingers in the flimsy sheets to keep from pushing his face harder against her, vaguely aware that she was mumbling nonsensical pleas, an incoherent litany of “oh god yes please fuck don’t stop” —

He didn’t. Without lifting his mouth he braced one hand under her knee and pushed it toward her chest, bending her leg and using two fingers of his other hand to enter her. It took him a second but when he found her g-spot he pressed up hard, stroking with the same rapid pace of his flicking tongue. It was more pressure than she was used to, strangely achy but pleasurably so, and it was impossible not to writhe under his touch as the need to come coiled tighter, dragged her higher, kept her suspended on the brink for a frustrating, dizzying, electrifying moment that stretched like a rubber band…

Then it snapped — a dam breaking, a wave cresting and finally letting gravity take over — and she curled forward with a sob of relief, pleasure rippling through her limbs and turning her bones to liquid, trembling through the aftershocks.

The shift from overwhelmingly perfect to just plain overwhelming was a split second. “Nngh, stop, stop —” She pawed weakly at his head, just barely smacking the edge of his fringe with her fingertips, but he lifted his mouth from her with a look of concern. “You’re fine,” she added quickly, struggling to catch her breath and shivering from the buzz of overstimulation, “s’just too much.”

David nodded, relieved, and sat back, wiping his face with the back of his arm. “Wow,” he murmured, eyes wide and awed. “Wowzers. Gwen, have you ever done that before?”

She sat up, frowning. “Come like a train? Like every time we — whoa.”

The sheets between her legs were wet. Not damp, wet like she’d spilled a glass of water (and cooling rapidly, she realized with a grimace, shifting to avoid the blotchy patch). Presumably the same wetness dripping down David’s chin.

“Oh my god.” She groaned, hiding her face in her hands like if she couldn’t see it, it would disappear. Or feel it slicking her inner thighs. “And uh, not really,” she finally muttered, a belated answer to his question. “Once or twice, but you’ve really gotta work over the g-spot to make it happ --” She glanced up just in time to catch his expression, a flash of recognition mixed with pleased sheepishness. “Which you were.” David quickly looked away, worrying his bottom lip between his teeth and flushing pink. “On purpose?”

“I -- I’d read about it, that’s all!” he said, meeting her gaze defensively. “I knew it was, well . . . a thing. That some wom- people can do. And I was -- I’ve seen -- I was curious!” Gwen tried to stifle a laugh and failed, turning it into a choking snort, and he blushed even darker. “I know I should’ve just asked, but I couldn’t figure out how to say . . .”

She waited for him to finish the sentence, but when it became clear he had no intention of doing so, she injected as much demented cheer into her voice as possible and chirped, “‘Golly gee, Gwen, could I try making you squirt sometime?’”

Her imitation of his voice was passable -- she’d spent enough years making fun of him to get good at it -- and though he turned his head away she was positive he rolled his eyes at her. “I don’t know if that counts as bad language or not.”

“Oh no. It’d be so shocking if I said one of the no-no words.”

He chuckled, trying and failing to disguise it as a sigh, and climbed out of bed, tugging the rest of his clothes off. (As he picked up his shirt and wiped his face clean, Gwen quickly bent forward and sniffed the damp spot on the mattress. A little like saline, mostly like nothing. Good to know.)

“So how often do you trawl the internet for sex tips?” she asked, grinning. “Or -- god, tell me you’re not checking out books from the library.”

“Of course not!” He looked horrified at the thought. “And . . . sometimes. More often, after we started dating. I . . .” He paused, looking like he was reconsidering the rest of that sentence, and joined her on the bed to lean back against the headboard. “The time you visited, when I -- used my mouth on you for the first time.” (And what was it about his delicate tiptoeing that made it sound so much more filthy than if he’d said it outright?) “I thought -- or, well, I hoped . . . anyway, I did a little reading. Online, obviously. Just in case.”

So that was how he’d been so goddamn good right off the fucking bat. Always prepared, her boy scout. “Well, I appreciate it,” she said, and sat up, throwing one leg over his lap and draping her arms around his shoulders. “Can I please fuck you now, Mr. Greenwood?”

He sucked in an unsteady breath, his cock twitching up against her; the tip of his head slipped between her outer folds, making them both gasp. “C-condom,” he breathed, his voice raspy and uneven, and she scrambled off his lap before she could give in to the voice in the back of her head insisting they didn’t need to stop and get anything, he was right there , if she’d angled her hips right he could’ve been inside her already --

Her fingers were shaking as she retrieved the foil packet and brought it over, letting him take it with relief. (There was no way she wouldn’t have ripped it, with the way her whole body was trembling like the room had dropped ten degrees.) She watched him roll the latex down his cock, unable to tear her eyes away from how beautifully flushed it was, precome beading at the tip and slicking the inside of the condom.

God, she needed him inside her. Immediately.

David caught her with a breathless laugh as she vaulted back up onto the bed, curling his fingers around her hips and holding her steady. “Careful,” he murmured, and she rolled her eyes, fumbling blindly between her legs to line him up. “Have I- hhha --” He cut off, squeezing his eyes shut with a sigh as the head of his cock pressed into her, “t- told you how beautiful you are?”

Gwen frowned. It was kind of hard to focus on the question when her body was fluttering and pulsing as it adjusted to the welcome intrusion. “A lot?” she guessed, sinking down the last few inches too fast and bottoming out with an electric shock of pain and pleasure. “Fuck.”

“No. Not like that.” He slid one arm between their bodies, parting her folds to see the way she stretched around him. “I -- think you’re so pretty,” he managed, gently tracing her inner labia with his fingertips. “I like your colors. And how we -- um, contrast.”

No one had ever told her that her cunt was pretty before. It was just the kind of stupid, romantic thing David would do. And he was right; his cock looked so pale against her, where she faded from shocking pink into a dark purplish-brown that lightened as it blended into her normal skin tone. There was something about it that reminded her of a sunset -- which was just the kind of stupid, romantic thing David made her think.

“You’re an idiot,” she said, pressing her forehead against his and raising up a few inches, “and I love you so much.”

“I — love you too.” Suddenly he froze, his eyes widening and his grip tightening around her waist, keeping her from moving.

“David? Everything okay?” God, he wasn’t having some kind of terrible flashback, was he? Maybe they shouldn’t be doing this.

His eyes flicked up to hers, and a wide, sunny smile spread across his face like spilled honey. “This is just like the first time.”

It took her a moment to understand what he was talking about, but then it hit her: this was like the night they’d first had sex, from the position to the location to the dizzying, giddy strangeness of it.

God, he was perfect.

“Sort of.” She pressed a hard, quick kiss to his lips before grabbing a fistful of his hair and tugging his head to the side so she could reach his neck; he whimpered and twitched twice, each pulse against her inner walls taking her breath away. “Except I know you way better now.” She punctuated the statement by licking a wide stripe up the side of his throat, then sucked a mark right beside his Adam’s apple, where it’d be safely hidden by his bandana. “All your weak points.”

“I—” He swallowed, tilting his head obediently as she trailed a line of open-mouthed kisses up to his ear, “d-don’t know what you’re talking about.”

She just hummed; that wasn’t worth dignifying with a real response, and the vibrations against his damp skin made him shiver. Instead she toyed with him: tracing the shell of his ear with her tongue, nipping at his earlobe with just a hint of teeth, exploring the delicate area around his ear and neck she knew so well, had staked her claim to a hundred times before.

David’s breathing quickened, roughened, and she had to tighten her grip on his hair to keep him from squirming. Her hips weren’t moving but his were, minute jolts she was positive he couldn’t control. “Gwen,” he gasped, “please, I -- hhit's too much, I can’t --”

“Could you come like this?” she asked, fighting to keep her own voice level. She could feel his pulse pounding in his cock and in his throat, under her lips; her clit throbbed in response, a metronome perfectly attuned to him. “Without me even moving? Or just . . .” She squeezed her internal muscles, clenching around him in a quick staccato pattern, and lapped her tongue against his neck in time.

“Nnno. Or -- yes?” His fingers tightened around her hips, a helpless spasm. “I don’t know. It’d . . . be torture.”

His voice was so low, wrecked, and Gwen’s stomach went into a dizzying, delicious free-fall. “Good,” she said before she could stop herself, think it through and reject it as sounding weird and freaky. David successfully pulled back from her, his eyes wide and blown out with arousal, and he looked so beautiful she couldn’t stop herself from blurting out, “I want to torture you sometime. Nothing you’re not okay with -- and not now, but . . .”

“Yes,” he breathed, and the word was barely out of his mouth before his hand curled around the back of her neck and he was dragging her mouth to his, a kiss made of teeth and desperation with words gasped out against her lips: “yes, god, whatever you want Gwen please I love you --” His other hand slid to cup the curve of her thigh, urge her up onto her knees so he could fuck her properly, pull her back down to set a rhythm that bordered on frantic.

She couldn’t help but laugh, even as she braced her palms against the headboard for better leverage to ride him faster, harder. “Told you,” she teased, biting his lower lip hard enough to drag a breathy whine from him. “Weak.”

That made him moan, drawn-out and broken, and he slipped one hand between their bodies; curling it into a loose fist, he splayed his index and middle fingers just enough for her clit to glide between them, adding an extra jolt of friction every time she moved her hips. Gwen gasped, clutching at his back with one hand as her second orgasm coiled tighter at the base of her spine.

She bit his shoulder because she could, because she had to, because he’d like it and because it was that or scream loud enough to wake the entire camp. “Fuck, god, David --”

He shuddered and buried his face in her hair, his breath hot with a stream of pleasured mumbles beginning and ending in her name --

Gwen didn’t know which of them came first. It didn’t matter, really, because they dragged each other over the edge. His cock was almost painfully hard, unyielding as iron as her muscles tightened and fluttered around it, and the sudden snap upward of his hips as he came nearly knocked her breathless.

She was going to be sore tomorrow. Or . . . later today. She turned her head and mouthed at David’s neck, relishing the sweet-salt taste of his sweat, and let him hold her up as they caught their breath.

“I love you too,” she whispered belatedly. David huffed a weak laugh into her hair, stroking her back with a touch that was light and ticklish. “But we’re sleeping in your room tonight. I don’t wanna deal with the wet spot.”

Yeah, she was going to be sore, and exhausted, and facing a hell of a cleanup both in her bedroom and outside of it.

David groaned and gently pushed her upright, sliding out from under her and taking her hand, like she was a camper who needed to be ushered back to bed. “Phone,” she bleated, weakly reaching for it as they walked past, and he paused to pick it up for her, and in that second she loved him even more, more than she’d ever thought possible.

Worth it.

#campcamp #camp camp roosterteeth #gwenvid #cc gwen #cc david #this ending is too awkward to put in the main tags but fuck it #i spent weeks working on this okay #maybe even months #i am exhausted and cannot look at this anymore #hope y'all like your smut interspersed with pages upon pages of talking #because that's what you're getting #the only reason this isn't a total disaster is raenbows and don't anyone forget it #forestwriting

[scripts4dreamers]

I literally JUST sat down, pt. 1

Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five, Part Six, Part Seven

AN: Nuh uh, nope. Not this again. You did not sign up for this.  Characters: Spencer Reid, Penelope Garcia, Derek Morgan, Aaron Hotchner, Jennifer Jareau, David Rossi. Pairings: Spencer Reid x reader Spoilers: None Warnings: Mentions of crime and violence, alcohol, eventual NSFW content

Prompt: After watching 7x07 “This episode is so scary man... Imagine just doing your job which is pretty morbid at times but oh well and then suddenly you have to go to this place where there's a lot of tornadoes and you're like well at least I'm inside and safe and then your boss is like "we gotta go right to these tornado places lol" and then you think "well that's scary but at least we have this handy dandy live map showing us exactly in real time where the tornadoes are so we'll be fine and then the internet is like "haha nope have fun dying in a tornado" 

- @pirateismywayofspeaking​ who is a literal genius.

This will be a multichapter piece! So lemme know if you want to be tagged in subsequent chapters. 

—————————-

Usually, when terrible things happen, people say the same few things: “I never thought it would happen to me! You never think something like this will happen to you until it does!”. You’d never really been that type of person. You were naturally cautious, and an ex FBI agent, you saw danger pretty much everywhere. You’d seen some of the worst things human beings could ever do to one another and, if you’d learned anything at all, it was that bad things happened everywhere and to pretty much everyone. There was nowhere that you could definitively say was safe from violent crime, but this was just ridiculous.

You looked around the ruined bookshop you’d poured the last year of your life into with a kind of detached sadness. Even before you opened the door, you could see the carnage. The shelves were upended, tables flipped, every vase in the building was smashed...except one. You sighed, stepping into the store, your eyes scanning the wreck with a practiced efficiency. No broken windows, the door was still locked when you’d arrived and your security cameras were blacked out, there were no signs of forced entry. If anything that made you more uneasy and, not for the first time since you’d left the bureau, you missed the weight of your gun against your hip. You crinkled your nose against the smell, the copper-iron of fresh blood that you were all too familiar with as you crept through your store.

“Son of a-fuck!” You swore loudly, cursing your luck as you took in the scene.

There was a body laid out in the middle of the Fiction aisle: face covered with a burlap sack, wrists and ankles bound with rope and blood seeping into the carpets you’d just had cleaned. Your training kicked in and you noticed, without meaning to, that the rest of the aisle was untouched. The shelves were upright, books in order, even the vase of white roses you’d put there the night before were all completely the way you’d left them. It was like he’d just completely bypassed the entire section.

Huh.

You looked up at the sky, “Really? Right now? You throw this at me, now? Unbelievable.”

There was a sinking feeling in the pit of your chest, along with a nervousness that you were telling yourself was irritation as you pulled out your phone. It had been a long while since you’d done this, but you still knew the number by heart.

“This is agent Jareau with the Behavioural Analysis Unit.”

“JJ, it’s me,” you said, “you’re not gonna believe this.”

——————————

You sat in the ruins of your store until the cops arrived, wondering who exactly you had murdered in a past life to end up with this kind of luck. You gave your statement without much incident, directing CSU to the body and alerting the detective to the abnormalities you’d spotted.

JJ had promised to get the team on the case as quickly as she could, and you knew JJ tended to get exactly what she wanted in that regard, you just didn’t know how you felt about that. It had been over a year since you’d left the BAU, since you’d done one case too many and just got fed all the way up. It really wasn’t any deeper than that. One day you’d come home and found that you couldn’t sleep. It had all just become too much, so you packed up your stuff, tendered your resignation, and started over.

It had been hard at first, but now you owned a fairly successful bookstore with a little coffee shop where you sold good coffee, and homemade biscuits. And it was nice. You felt good, kinda. You definitely slept better at night. Your life was finally starting to feel normal and now this? A dead body just happens to appear in the center of your bookstore in just weird enough a way to warrant a call to the BAU? No, you’d seen too much to consider this a coincidence. Whether you liked it or not, you were about to get thrown back into your old life head first, the life you’d worked so hard to get some distance from. So why weren’t you more...upset?

“Y/L/N?” A familiar voice called.

“In here,” you answered, your voice raspy from disuse. You cleared your throat and pushed yourself up onto your feet, “I’m in here.” You tried again.

The figures who stepped in were painfully familiar and you couldn’t help the tired smile that slid onto your face, your eyes going directly to the blonde woman walking at the very front.

“Y/N!” She greeted, her voice dripping with relief as she pulled you into a hug, “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine, JJ,” you assured her as you broke apart, the rest of your old team filing in behind her.

She eyed you like she wasn’t sure, pressing her lips into a thin line as she looked around the trashed store. Derek Morgan swooped in behind her, giving you a second hug.

“Long time, Y/L/N,” he smiled.

You sighed, “Wish it was under better circumstances, Morgs, but I’m glad you guys are here.”

“Y/L/N,” Aaron Hotchner greeted, giving you a firm handshake.

“Thanks for coming, Hotch, I’m sorry. I didn’t know what else to do.” You admitted.

“No, you made the right call. The BAU has officially taken on the case. Reid, Prentiss and Rossi are coordinating with the local PD from our headquarters, the rest of us are here to help,” he said, pausing and meeting your eye, silently asking the question you’d been waiting all morning for.

“No sign of forced entry,” you started, “the front door was still locked from the outside when I arrived.” You walked him through the crime scene, glass crunching beneath your feet as you went, “It looks like someone sprayed black paint over the security cameras I had installed, everything’s been smashed but there’s no cash missing from the register. In fact, they barely touched the front desk at all.” You explained, “And this,” you gestured at the Fiction aisle, “is where I found the body.”

Morgan stepped forward and, just like that, the team moved like a well oiled machine.

“White male, looks like he’s between the ages of 19 and 27.” Morgan started.

“His wrists and ankles are bound, but it doesn’t look like he struggled against his restraints at all,” you cut in, without meaning to, crouching down beside the body, “it could mean he was tied up postmortem.”

“We’ll have to wait on the M.E’s report to know for sure,” Hotch agreed, “Y/L/N, can I talk to you?” You nodded and let him pull you aside. He glanced over your shoulder and lowered his voice, “I know you’re out and we can do this investigation without you-“

“But?” You probed.

The corners of Hotch’s mouth twitched, like he wanted to smile, “But, I would also welcome your help if you’re willing to give it. The team is still a man down and, something about this scene has me thinking-“

“That whoever did this isn’t finished,” you agreed, sighing as you ran your fingers through your hair.

Everything was so messed up in your head. You just wanted to go back to bed and start this day all over again. Hotch looked at you and you recognized his brand of quiet concern. It was familiar and comforting, and it helped you process your thoughts.

“I can’t believe I’m saying this,” you frowned, “yeah. Yeah, sure, I’ll come back.” Hotch smiled and you wagged a finger at him, “But just for this one case! After that I’m straight back to my boring normal person life, alright?”

“Of course,” he agreed, something almost mocking in his tone.

“I’m serious, Hotch, just one more case.”

“I’m agreeing with you!” He insisted, already walking back to the rest of the group.

But he wasn’t and, much to your chagrin, you felt the familiar rush of adrenaline as you turned back to the scene of the crime.

“Hotch, Y/L/N,” Morgan called, holding something in his gloved hand, “you’re gonna want to see this.”

“Here we go again,” you sighed.

————————-

Walking back into the BAU had felt like stepping back in time. After you’d gotten everything you could from the crime scene there was nothing to do but brainstorm, but walking through those doors again...well, let’s say you hadn’t been prepared for how it would feel being back. For the most part, everyone had been glad to see you, especially Garcia, but you could tell that there were still some resentments bubbling under the surface. It made sense, the BAU survived by relying on one another, by acting like a family, and you’d left that family.

Still, there was a rhythm to this kind of work, a flow that was almost painfully easy to fall back into. You’d worked together for years after all, bouncing ideas off of one another like it was nothing and that kind of bond didn’t just go away.

“Admit it,” Derek teased, bumping your shoulder with his as you studied the evidence board, “you missed this.”

“I most certainly did not.”

“Oh you so did,” Spencer agreed, leaning against the table next to you and giving you a fond smile, “I’m sorry about the bookstore though, it was the only store in town with a proper selection of classics in their original languages.”

You shrugged, “I’ll get it up and running again soon enough, just as soon as we catch whoever did this.”

“Speaking of our UnSub, what do you think the relevance of him leaving the body in the fiction section is?” Spencer asked.

“Maybe he’s trying to say that this is some kind of fairytale?” Prentiss suggested, “Like he’s trying to draw us into his story?”

“Maybe, but this has gotta be more personal than that, right?” Morgan said, “I mean, this isn’t some body in an alley, it was dumped in an FBI agent’s coffee shop.”

“Ex agent,” you corrected.

“Sure thing, Princess,” Morgan teased.

“Why does everyone keep talking like that?” You asked.

“Because you leaving is ridiculous. You love this job,” He replied simply, “you’ve always loved this job.”

You opened your mouth to respond but, before you could, you heard the clacking of heels against the marble floor.

“Um, guys?” Garcia said, coming into the bullpen with a stormy look on her face, “we just got word from the officer who went to Y/N’s apartment.”

“And?” You asked nervously.

“They found something,”

“Another body?” Prentiss asked.

“No, weirder, a letter and what looks like a smiley face drawn on the wall in blood.” She said, pressing a button to display the new crime scene photos on the big screen.

Your heart froze in your chest.

There it was; a crude smiley face drawn right above your headboard and a crisp white envelope resting against your pillow. He’d made your bed too, some small part of your mind noted. How polite. Instinctively, you crossed your arms over your chest as you were hit with a mixture of panic and disgust.

“Of course,” you sighed, “of course there is. Why wouldn’t there be? It’s been that kind of day.”

“Do we know what the letter says?” Morgan asked.

Garcia nodded, “And it’s a doozy. The letter contains a poem written with letters cut out from magazines and newspapers. It reads:

Since there’s no help, come let us kiss and part.

Nay, I have done, you get no more of me;

And I am glad, yea glad with all my heart,

That thus so cleanly I myself can free.

Shake hands for ever, cancel all our vows,

And when we meet at any time again,

Be it not seen in either of our brows

That we one jot of former love retain …”

You could feel your friends staring and you tried to keep your face as neutral as possible. Your skin felt like it was on fire, and you could hear the blood pounding in your ears as you thought of a murderer setting foot in your space; him touching your bed, running his hands over the photos on your nightstand, defiling your possessions with his presence. You’d never felt so vulnerable and exposed, and bile rose up in your stomach like your body was physically rejecting the whole thing. Distantly you heard Prentiss and Morgan discussing theories, and you felt one pair of warm brown eyes staring into the side of your head.

Suddenly, you didn’t feel like joking around anymore.

“Sorry,” you muttered, standing up and striding out of the room without looking back, “I need some air.”

You were so angry by the time you made it out into the courtyard that you’d balled your hands into fists and your breath was coming out in short little bursts. Hot tears pricked at the corners of your eyes and your chest felt painfully tight.

“Y/N?” You heard Spencer ask.

You sniffed, wiping your face quickly, “Reid, hi. Sorry, I just-“ you let out a slow breath, “I needed a break.”

He nodded like he understood, tucking his hands into his pockets as he stepped towards you. You wanted to tell him to go away, to head back inside and leave you the hell alone, but the words wouldn’t come.

It had always been like this with Spencer. No matter how hard you tried to be tough and brave and put together, he saw right through you and broke down your defenses. At one point, he’d been the closest thing to family you’d ever had, in fact you thought you might…..

Well, it didn’t matter now. Over the last year things had changed, you’d grown apart. It happened, but the fondness was still there, and the trust, and those damn eyes.

“I get it, Y/N, I can't even imagine what this whole thing must be like for you,” he said, “having your home be violated like that….and the store?” He shook his head, “I know how hard you worked setting that place up.”

Your bottom lip trembled and, for the first time that day, you let yourself feel afraid as tears slipped down your cheeks.

You shook your head, “You know, when I saw the glass all over the floor, and all the books….I just felt tired, like bone tired. I wasn’t scared of that, but now?” You paused, glancing up at Spencer, as a tear slid down your cheek, “He was in my home, Spencer. He made my bed before he left, he wrote me a letter.”

Spencer worked his jaw and hesitantly reached out, touching your shoulder gently.

“We’ll catch him, Y/N/N, we always do.” He promised.

“And until then?” You asked, “Do I just pretend it never happened? Go home and act like it’s all okay?”

“No,” another voice cut in from behind you, “you rely on us. We’ll take care of you,” Morgan explained.

“Yeah,” Garcia agreed, her big blue eyes clinging to yours, “We’ve talked about it already. You’ll take turns staying with each of us a few nights a week and then, on the weekends, we’ll all stay with Rossi to go over the case. And we’ll spend every free moment tracking this son of a bitch down for you.”

Emily nodded and, for the first time since you had opened your store that morning, you felt your chest swell with something a little like hope. You knew the BAU was special, you knew that the bonds you’d formed over the years were damn near unbreakable, but this? This was too much. Seeing your friends rally around you when you needed them most just reminded you how much you loved them, and how much they still loved you. Even now. Spencer gave your shoulder a squeeze and you smiled back at him.

“I really missed you guys,” you said with a watery laugh.

Penelope crooned and threw her arms around your neck, pulling you into a familiarly bone-crushing hug.

“We missed you too, Sugar Plum,” she promised.

“Really?”

“Hell yeah!” Morgan smiled, joining Penelope’s hug.

“You know we did,” Emily agreed, ruffling your hair and pulling herself in close.

Your eyes found Spencer where he was standing just outside of the group hug, both hands in his pockets and a sad smile on his face. You pressed your lips together and, in response, he nodded.

“We missed you,” he said softly and then, as the hug broke up and you allude your way back inside, even softer, “we still do.”

---------------- 

Taglist: @ourfavoritesergeantbarnes​

#jordsie #jordsie writes #cm imagine #cm #cm headcanons #criminal minds #criminal minds headcanons #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid headcanons #Penelope garcia #penelope garcia imagine #derek morgan #emily prentiss #aaron hotch hotchner #aaron hotchner #david rossi

[justheretobreakthings]

Whumpmas in July: Day 9

@whumpmasinjuly

“Look at me.”

Read on AO3 My house, my rules, my ko-fi

Even through his paladin armor, the fire was far too hot. Shiro could swear he could feel the flames of the burning walls licking against his skin as he raced by them, and was certain he would be covered in blisters by the time he got back to the castle. His helmet – especially the crackling in his ear reminding him that the comm hadn’t been working since they’d entered Viuter’s atmosphere and would be no help to him now – was irritating him, making him feel trapped and claustrophobic and plastering his sweaty hair against his skull and preventing him from wiping his bangs out of his eyes. Still, it was protection, enough protection to keep him upright and moving, and even though smoke clouded his line of sight, the visor of his helmet kept it out of his eyes, and the oxygen actuator mostly kept him from breathing in the ash.

Which meant Keith’s armor was giving him that same protection. Which meant he was fine. Wherever he was.

Keith shouldn’t have been in the building in the first place. He’d been blocks away when the explosion had occurred, the paladins all having separated to confer with different members of the Viuteran council. It had made sense, getting more done in less time and everyone getting to stick to their specialties, and it had resulted in Keith being all the way in the infantry armory building at the time of the blast. Shiro, though, had been right near the explosion, in the next building over where he and Allura were meeting with a group of military strategists. As he’d been wearing armor and Allura hadn’t, it was only natural that Shiro was the one to take the initiative of running into the building and taking charge of evacuating as many Viuterans as he could.

Sure, it would have been better if the comms had been working and the paladins could all coordinate together, but that wasn’t really any more than a flickering and quickly dismissed thought in Shiro’s mind. He would focus on rescue now, find his teammates when he was done.

It took longer than he would have liked to reach the point when he could look for them, but it came eventually. Once the building was deeply engulfed in flames and there was too much risk of it collapsing in on itself for it to be safe for Shiro to go back in and keep up the rescue efforts. He handed off an unconscious Viuteran to an emergency worker and looked around to find himself in the midst of a dizzying scene. Sirens were wailing, soldiers and civilians alike were running amok, some trying to escape, some trying to help contain the spreading fire. And all of it cast in an eerie red, the thick smoke in the sky blocking out all light except for that of the fire.

Pidge was the paladin he spotted, her green armor sticking out boldly against all the red and gray, and her face flooded with relief when spotted him approaching. “Oh thank fuck!” she cried, rushing to meet him. “When Allura said you were in there I – I didn’t know if – God, kept hoping the comms would magically start working and I could make sure you were – ”

“Is Allura okay?” Shiro hated to interrupt, but now that he’d found one of his teammates, he was more than eager to find the rest, make sure everyone was okay.

“Right, right, follow me,” Pidge said, and she hurried to lead the way, winding through the chaos. “Allura’s this way, they’ve got first aid stuff going so that was the first place I looked, to see who was hurt. Lance and Coran – they left ages ago. Before this bomb, apparently a different one went off on the other side of the city. Like, one minute difference. My guess is they were planned to go off at the same time, but they weren’t coordinated quite right. Anyway, they went to get Blue and they were heading that way, so I don’t know when they’re gonna be – ”

“Shiro! Shiro, you’re okay!” A voice cut across Pidge’s rapid speech as they approached what appeared to be a makeshift triage center in the square, and Shiro turned to see Hunk clambering in their direction as fast as the armful of medical supplies he was carrying would allow. Behind him, Allura looked up from where she had been bent over an injured Viuteran, her glowing hands pressed against his leg. Relief washed over her face, and she started in their direction too the moment she had finished.

Shiro nodded in acknowledgment to Hunk. “Yeah, I’m okay.”

“You sure?” Hunk asked. “You’re not hurt at all? Your armor’s looking kinda beat up, you might be hurt and not even realize it because of adrenaline! Do you feel dizzy at all? Do you need water? Do you need to sit down?”

“Hunk, I’m fine, really,” Shiro reassured him, turning his attention to Allura as she joined them. “How’s everything holding up here?”

“As well as we can hope for,” Allura said. “Everyone’s been too busy trying to get people to safety to investigate, so I don’t know where the bombs were, who may have been behind it, what the intent was – I take Keith was able to reach you? Where is he now?”

Shiro frowned. “What?”

“I thought – surely by now he would’ve – ”

“Allura,” Shiro said, voice tight. “What do you mean? Where’s Keith?”

“He was here, but he – I told him where you’d gone, and he took off, didn’t even let me finish the sentence. I thought he was going to help you with the evacuation.”

Keith had gone after him. Shiro had gone into the heart of the fire, and Keith had followed him in, and he hadn’t even realized. It hadn’t even occurred to him until Allura mentioned his name that he hadn’t yet seen Keith anywhere, but now…

Shit.

“I’m going after him,” he said, turning on his heel.

“What?” Pidge said. “Hang on, you think he’s still looking for you in there?”

“I know he is.”

“Wait, Shiro,” Allura said, “It’s certainly not safe! Surely Keith would have had the sense to get out of there by this point, we ought to – ”

“No.” Shiro shook his head. “No, he’s – I gotta get him. I’ll meet you all here when I’ve found him.”

One of them called his name again, as he took off running, but he ignored it. All his focus was on moving forward, his feet pounding the ground as he raced faster than he could ever remember having moved in his life, back toward the flames.

In any other circumstances, Shiro would agree that, yes, Keith had the sense to get out. He could be rash and stubborn and even foolish at times, but Shiro at least liked to think that Keith had been getting better about knowing when it was better to retreat than to dive headlong into danger. His failed battle with Zarkon, at least, had knocked that lesson into his head.

But he knew Keith, and more importantly, he knew Keith’s past. As little as Keith liked to open up about his life, he had at least let Shiro in on a bit about his dad. And how he’d lost him. Shiro had seen the look in Keith’s face whenever his dad had come up, the emptiness and desolation when he’d explained how that fire had taken him.

And he had seen the desperation and determination in his little brother’s eyes whenever Keith made it clear that he couldn’t go through a loss like that again. Whenever he insisted that he’d never have to take on the role of team leader because Shiro wasn’t going anywhere. He’d heard about Keith’s expulsion from the Garrison, the explosive lengths he went to in order to get Shiro out to his shack.

When it came to family – when it came to Shiro – all logic and reason was out the window.

And now Keith might very well meet his end because of it.

Making his way through the burning building required him to shut out all of his natural instincts pointing him to safety, screaming at him to get out of there before he wound up seriously hurt, or worse. He had to turn on the shade of his visor to keep the brightness of the flames from blinding him, and even then it was hard to be certain where he was going. Halls were blocked by burning debris, pieces of the building falling around him and some coming dangerously close to taking him out with them. Shiro jetpacked through a singed hole in the ceiling when the hall behind him folded in on itself, blocking his route to the main entrance, and every step on the second floor was accompanied by creaks and crackles that had him bracing himself to fall right through at any second.

Still, he kept going. Pushing through the heat and the sparks and the roar of the flames, yelling Keith’s name over the noise and through the billowing smoke. None of that was important. All that mattered was finding Keith.

He had to find Keith. Had to find him. Had to find him. Had to –

A crack sounded above him, and around the corner and along the hall, flaming shards of ceiling toppled down, and that’s when he spotted it: the distinct blue light that accompanied a shield activating from a paladin’s armor.

Keith. Ducked under his shield, fire and rubble tumbling around him, the red and white of his suit gray with ash. Alive, and moving, and okay.

He was okay.

Shiro dived into the wreck, knocking falling debris aside with his sword hand and, voice breaking in sheer release, shouting out, “Keith!”

Keith’s head shot up at the sound of his name, and although for a brief moment he stumbled from the battering against his shield, there was no mistaking the way his exhausted eyes widened the moment he spotted Shiro across the hall, as if he were seeing a ghost, only for his face to light up in stunned relief.

He may have shouted something in reply that was drowned out by the fire raging around them, or he may have sprung up from his crouch without a word. Either way, Shiro got no warning before Keith was practically flying across the hall to tackle him in a hug.

Shiro stumbled back, startled. It wasn’t as though hugging was completely out of Keith’s character – once he knew and trusted the person giving them, he practically reveled in them – but he was never the one to initiate the embrace. A means of preemptively shielding himself from being turned away, perhaps; a fear that the gesture may be misinterpreted, may be mistaken as something romantic or even sexual; maybe simply a matter of making sure he never set off any discomfort related to touch that Keith was often prone to himself. Shiro had never known for certain which was the case, but it all made Keith a distinctly non-touchy person. Even when they had first been reunited after Shiro’s disastrous return from Kerberos, Keith hadn’t hugged him with this much fervor.

It all spoke to just how terrified Keith had been, how desperately he’d been searching for Shiro. The embrace was a grounding one. He was pressing himself so firmly against Shiro, gripping his brother so tightly. As though reassuring himself that Shiro was really there. Like if he dared to let go, Shiro would vanish back into the smoke and flame.

“Hey,” Shiro said, trying to keep his voice soothing despite needing to practically shout to ensure he could be heard, arm wrapping around Keith’s trembling back. “Hey, it’s okay, I’m here.”

“I thought – ” Keith choked out through his helmet’s speaker. “Allura said – she said you – you’d gone into – into – ”

“I know. I know.”

“You went into the fire. Shiro, you went into the fire, I thought you – I was going to lose you, I had to find you, I couldn’t – I couldn’t just let – ”

“It’s all right, Keith, I promise. I’m okay.”

“You could’ve died! You almost died, you almost burned up and never said goodbye, I thought you were dead, I – ”

“Hey. Keith. Look at me.” Keith kept his face buried in Shiro’s chest, so he pulled back to hold him by the shoulders. “Look at me, okay? I’m right here, see? I’m not dying on you yet. Swear it.”

“Y-yeah. I see you.” His voice shook, and this close up, Shiro could see the redness of his face, the way his eyes seemed to be struggling to stay focused. As hot-blooded as Keith ran, even he was susceptible to fire like this. “Sorry. Sorry, I’m – I was just…”

“Scared?” Shiro finished for him, and Keith nodded weakly. “That’s okay. I get it. And hey, you found me. You found me, I’m here, and we’re okay. And now – ” A crackling sounded from above, and Shiro yanked Keith aside without a second thought, throwing up a shield as a beam collapsed right where the latter had been standing, showering the two of them in sparks. “Now we gotta get outta here, okay? We gotta run.”

“Yeah.” Keith took a trembling breath and straightened as Shiro let his shield fizzle away. “Got it, let’s go. Just – ” Shiro looked down to see Keith’s gloved hand wrapping around the gauntlet of Shiro’s armor. “No splitting up. Please.”

Shiro smiled. “Deal. We won’t let each other out of our sights. Come on.”

He activated his sword hand, and beside him, Keith did the same with his shield. Ready to race back through the flames, side by side.

#whumpmasinjuly #vldgen #shiro #keith #vld fic #my writing #fic: through the fire and flames

[thiswasinevitableid]

95. you just witnessed me kill a guy and I have a really, really good reason for it, please don’t call the cops

Sternclay as a super/vigilante au? sfw or nsfw, please!

Here you go! This is NSFW

Content note: this fic contains mentions of murder, serial killers, knives. Brief description of a porn scene with implied dub-con (you can skip from the part where Barclay sees the TV to the next section break). But I included lots of fluff to balance it out.

This is the best hook-up Barclays had in years. Mr. Tall, dark, and handsome has done nothing but compliment him all night, from the fit of his shirt down to his kissing skills. So now that he’s facedown on the bed in this guys brownstone wearing only his boxers, he’s so excited he can barely think.

“Almost ready” a shcck of blinds dropping, “I just need to grab one more thing. Then the fun can start.”

“Can’t wait.” He sighs, shuts his eyes as his date moves across the room. Then the movement stops.

“Who the fu-”

Horrible, sticky warmth spatters the side of his face. Startled, he opens his eyes in time to watch his date fall to the floor, dead. Behind him is a figure in dark clothes with a tactical mask covering his face and a gun with a silencer in his right hand. A figure who has just noticed Barclay is awake.

In five swift, purposeful steps he’s at the bed, and Barclay doesn’t know what to do, whether to bolt for the window or knock the gun away or beg or, or or-

“Are you alright, sir?” The voice coming from the mask is calm and businesslike.

“.........what do you think?” Is the reply his useless brain comes up with.

“You look like you’re in shock. Which is understandable.” A gloved hand touches his face, “shit, I’m sorry, I was hoping none of it would get on you. Here, hold still.” He rifles through a pocket while Barclay’s mind drifts further from his body. Why isn’t he just killing him now? Is this part of some sick game?

“Turn your face this way just a bit” the back of his hand nudges Barclay’s chin, “good, thank you. I’m going to get you cleaned up, once that’s done I need to ask you to stay here until I’m finished cleaning up the scene. And also to not call the authorities for help when I’m out of the room.”

“Why?” Nope, okay, that’s it, that’s the reply that gets him shot.

“For one, you’re not in any danger from me. You were in danger from the now-deceased Mr. Martin, which is why I killed him.”

“I, uh, h-how can you be sure?”

“Let me show you” he helps Barclay up, guides him to the body, “you don’t need to look at him, just at that.”

He’s pointing to the boning knife clutched in the man’s hand. Barclay’s guts turn to sour milk.

“M-maybe he picked that up when he saw you?”

The killer shakes his head, gently guides Barclay back to the bed and, after a moment of studying the nightstand, pulls out the bottom drawer. It contains two more knives, duck tape, pliers, and seven, severed human thumbs.

“Oh fuck. What the fuck, what the fuck?” He whispers as the man closes the drawer.

“Mr. Martin is the Bear Butcher. I doubt you’ve heard of him, because that’s the name the authorities use among themselves while insisting that there’s no need to warn the public about him. He’s killed seven men, all gay and all on the bigger side; you would have been number eight.”

“I’m gonna be sick” He tips forward, feels gloved hands catch him and easily half-drag him into what turns out to be the bathroom.

“Wait here and do what you need to. I’ll be done in fifteen minutes, less if I can manage it. And, um, you might want to keep your eyes closed.”

Barclay has no problem with that order, though when the killer (his hero?) moves the body into the tub he discovers both the reason for the warning and that he does indeed have more in his stomach to throw up.

After an eternity of iron and bleach in the air and bile on his tongue, he’s helped back into the bedroom. The man hands him his clothes, turning his back as he dresses. He’s changed too, though the mask remains.

“I, I didn’t bring my car.” Barclay says weakly, knowing he won’t have the energy to walk home and the thought of getting in a cab or rideshare sets his nerves screaming.

“I assumed, since he wouldn’t want it being abandoned to lead to someone calling you in missing. If you’re okay with it, I can give you a ride home.”

Barclay nods. The man ushers him out the front door, pausing at the threshold for a final sweep. Then he pulls off his mask. Black hair sticks up until he smooths it back in a practiced motion, and blue eyes regard Barclay gently from a handsome face.

“It’s the Altima, right on the corner.” He says, folding the mask and tucking it into his pocket. Barclay gives his address, sits stiffly in the passenger seat as a pop station plays from the speakers.

“Do you want to change the station?”

“No” Barclay inhales fine, but the exhale comes out shaky, “jesus, how are you so calm?”

“Because if I’m trying to help you stay calm, I need to model the behavior. And, um, this isn’t my first time doing this, in case that wasn’t obvious. I’ve never had a witness before, for all the usual reasons and I’d prefer not to traumatize someone. But he went off his pattern and picked you up tonight, and I was not about to let him claim another victim.”

“Thank you.” Barclay doesn’t know what else to say. His adrenaline brain suggests propositioning the man in gratitude because it’s not everyday a hot mystery man saves your life. But the rest of him is well aware that if anyone touched him right now he might scream.

“It’s my job. Or it’s supposed to be.”

His curiosity peeks out from where it’s been hiding behind his sense of self-preservation, “What’s your name? Or can you not tell me?”

“It’s Joseph.”

“Barclay.”

“I wish we’d met under better circumstances, Barclay. Oh, here we are.” He parks the car, engine still running, “do you want me to wait until you’re inside to go?”

It should feel safe; it’s his apartment, his home above Amnesty’s new location, Mama’s own little house just out in the backyard. But his hand can’t make the fucking door handle go.

“Would, uh, would you mind coming up with me? Just, just for a few minutes?”

The man raises his eyebrows, but nods. Soon he’s standing in Barclays little kitchen, hands folded politely behind his back while Barclay tries and fails to start tea.

“If you want to just point to where things are, I can do that for you. You should eat something too, if your stomach’s settled.”

Barclay declines at first, but when his stomach growls Joseph moves through the kitchen--making distracting small talk all the while--not stopping until he’s assembled a plate of crackers, cheese and apples.

“Ooh, you got the good stuff.” He steals a piece for himself while Barclay nibbles a Triscuit

“Kinda a cheese snob; comes with the job.”

They talk about food and food writing until his plate is clear, at which point Joseph suggests he get ready for bed. Without being asked, he stays by the door as Barclay finishes getting changed and brushing his teeth.

“I, uh, I’m not really sure how to, uh, end this night.”

Joseph cups his cheek, “Lock the doors behind me. You don’t need to worry about anything else; you don’t owe me a thing. You’re safe. That’s what matters.” He smiles at him for the last time and heads out into the early morning light.

----------------------------------

“Hey big fella, you’ll never guess who put in an order.” Mama clips up the slip from the table she’s working; Amnesty has been busy in the week since they opened here, so much so that she’s had to help with the crowds.

“Who?” Barclay flips the pancakes he’s watching, checks the bacons for tables 15 and 9.

“Your late night visitor.” Mama winks.

He turns, spots Joseph at the far end of the counter. He’s in a black suit, blue tie setting off his eyes, and his hair is fully slicked back. On his chest is a badge identifying him as working at the nearby FBI offices. He’s clearly as surprised to see Barclay as Barclay is to see him. He’s less surprised that Mama saw him leaving; she gets up early and her window faces his back stairs

“Hold on” Mama nudges him, “did he give you trouble? Because you look pretty off.”

“No, no, just, uh, didn’t expect to see him again.”

Joseph orders hash and poached eggs, and when Barclay sends the order out, he hands Dani a slice of cherry pie to go along with it. He peeks over his shoulder; Joseph is looking at the free dessert, smiling. Then he takes a bite and makes a face that’s borderline orgasmic. Barclay looks away before he drops a hot waffle on his foot.

Amnesty's restaurant closes at 3, and as Barclay is locking the front door, he notices Joseph waiting for him in an easily visible, well-lit spot.

“You know, I meant it when I said you didn’t owe me anything. Not even the most delicious pie I’ve ever eaten.”

“I give freebies now and then” Barclay smiles, “no rule that says I can’t give them to someone who did me a huge fucking favor. And, uh” he blushes, “glad you like the pie.”

“The whole meal was incredible. You’re a very talented cook. Would it be okay if I came back?” His expression is hopeful, almost nervous.

Barclay touches his shoulder, “Anytime.”

-------------------------------------

“So, uh, I’ve haven’t had a chance to ask but, uh, when you’re not working or chatting with me here, what do you do? For, like, fun?” Barclay leans across the counter as Joseph licks his form clean of meringue. Barclay’s gone through twelve different pie recipes in the last month just to see which ones the other man likes best.

“I read a lot, cultivate an extensive knowledge of old horror movies, try to make decent risotto in my apartment...oh, I play frisbee golf sometimes, I picked it up in college.”

“Any interest in seeing that new Godzilla movie? It looks terrible but in a fun way.”

“Oh yeah, I like what I’ve seen of the design they’re using for the kaiju.” He notices Barclays hand resting millimeters for his own. He runs his thumb along Barclays knuckles, “are you asking if I’ll go see it with you, big guy?”

“Uh huh.”

“I’d love to.”

---------------------------------------------

“Holy fuck babe, when you said you were running out to get breakfast I figured you meant, like, McMuffins.”

“Only the best for you, big guy. Consider it a thank you for making dinner last night.” Joseph finishes laying out the donuts from “Holes in One” next to the plate of bagels and lox from the only place that Joseph insists does them right.

Barclay wraps his arms around him, tickling his cheek with his beard, “you’re fucking amazing babe.”

Joseph kisses him, coffee flavored and light, “So are you. Still want to play chess later?”

“Uh huh. Winner gets to blow the loser?”

“I like those terms, Mr. Cobb.”

It’s been like this for the last three months; evenings at the movies or tangled up in bed, mornings in sleepy hazes on the couch or out the eat, days upon days of Joseph spoiling, servicing, and just generally loving the hell out of him.

There are also the nights or, more often, early mornings, when Joseph returns steeped in grim satisfaction. At first he avoided having Barclay over those nights or going to see him the next day. Lately, they’re together so much that it’s unavoidable that Barclay will see the lethal edge lingering in his gaze or rub knots from his shoulders that he knows were earned in some darkened room where horrors had been playing out for weeks, months, even years. He doesn’t shy away from it; he loves Joseph, and that means seeing him clearly, though sometimes what he sees sends chills across his skin. Chills that feel less and less like fear.

They’re out for a walk around the lake, trading bites of gelato, when a question tunnels it’s way to the front of Barclays mind. He waits until they’re sitting on a bench far from any prying ears to ask it.

“What made you decide to, uh, do what you do?”

His boyfriend studies him, then sighs, “A number of things. Fear was the first one; you said you don’t follow true crime, so I’m guessing you don’t know of the Janesville Strangler?”

“Nope.”

“He killed ten young women over the course of three years. He’s also my biological father. Michael Stern is my stepfather and, at my request, my adoptive one as well; my mom remarried as soon as she was sure my father couldn’t get out. He, he never turned any violence on me, but I suspect he used me as leverage with mom; she was a smart woman, I suspect she noticed something amiss but was frightened into keeping quiet. I was six when they locked him up, eight when she remarried. Mike is a gentle man, he did his best to raise me the same. But I, I never shook the fear that whatever drove my father to kill innocent people lurks somewhere in my genes.”

Barclay’s arm rests protectively across Joseph’s shoulders.

“I joined the FBI because I felt if I was able to turn whatever killer genes I have towards understanding serial murderers, I could use them to help others. Keep people safe. Ambition and skill moved me through the ranks quickly but” he sighs, “the more I rose, the more I saw how little was being done. How cases were mishandled, how if there was the slightest hint it was a cop or veteran doing the killing suddenly the case went cold, how a killer could pick off person after person and no one cared because the victims were the “wrong” kind of people. It came to a head two years ago; I’d poured all this energy into a case where the killer went after sex workers. He was prolific and obviously cruel, I fought tooth and nail for every resource I needed to track him. Officer Alex Brown was my main suspect, I was so close to getting a warrant to search his property and then they closed the case. Insisted the deaths were unrelated. I...I went up and searched on my own and” he looks at the sky, rests his head on Barclays arm, “lord almighty the things I found. I was right, I was right and I couldn’t do anything about it, he’d get to just go on preying on people and I couldn’t handle failing his future victims that way. I waited until he went on a hunting trip. Alone. Lots of things can happen to a man in the woods. And it’s hard to find evidence when his body just happens to fall near a coyote den.”

A little smile, one he tries to suppress, creeps up his cheeks, “I’ve never felt so powerful in my entire life. I decided I’d still try to play by the rules but that if I knew, for certain, someone was guilty and being shielded by either ignorance or malice, I’d solve the problem myself.” He looks at Barclay for the first time since he started his answer, face turning to shame, “I’m sorry, I, I should have given the short answer. I didn’t, I don’t want to upset you, or scare you but it’s hard not to given-”

“Joseph” Barclay carefully runs his fingers over black hair, “it’s not like I forgot how we met. I...I’m not under any misimpressions about what you’re capable of. I just wanted to know how you arrived at the solution you did. It’s, uh, it’s not what I’d choose for myself, not something I could do but, uh, I guess what I’m trying to say is that this isn’t going to push me away from you. And that it means a lot to me that you trust me enough to explain it.”

His boyfriend curls closer, “It means a lot to me, too.”

-------------------------------------------------------

Black gloves on his throat, weight on his chest and when he opens his eyes it’s Joseph above him, steel in his gaze and between his fingers. He’s in a muddled dream version of Bear Butcher’s apartment

“Hi, big guy.” The thin knife slices up Barclay’s pants, “let’s get you out of these.”

“Please, please I-”

“Shhhh” Joseph kisses him, “I removed the man who threatened you. But you’re so handsome laid out like this, a victim just waiting for someone to make you scream.”

“Babe, I-”

“That’s not my name right now. Call me..” the hand no longer has a knife, is running roughly up his cock instead, “call me…”

Barclay wakes up still humping the mattress as he cums. Blindly, he reaches for his phone to check the time. It’s the fifth dream like that in two weeks, and they always leave him so horny he tries to get it up and get off again if there’s time. No such luck today; he has to be up in ten minutes.

He tries not to think about it during work, just like he tries not to think about it the rest of the time. Especially in bed with Joseph, his attentive, indulgent Joseph who puts all his organizational skills and professional practice at giving orders into domming Barclay so sweetly he stays in subspace for hours.

He’s still very much not thinking about Joseph gagging him so his screams don’t wake the neighbors as he climbs the stairs to his boyfriends place. Dani was a sweetheart and took care of his orders for him, so he was able to leave work early.

The T.V is on, volume up loud enough that he can tell what his boyfriend is up to before he even walks into the room. He fully intends to tease him for not being able to wait until Barclay was there to jerk off before hauling him into the bedroom. But when he sees the screen, he freezes.

A man in what looks like a cheesy camp counselor uniform is tied to the bed, his shirt stuffed into his mouth as a make-shift gag. Straddling him is a man in a black jumpsuit, knife near his hand and cock buried in the counselors ass.

“That’s it sweetheart, wiggle and try’n get away; you ain’t gonna and it feels so fuckin good when you try. This is what you get for leaving the window open.”

The counselor shakes his head, fear so palpable Barclay barely notices the fact the boom mic is in the shot. The killer pulls the gag free.

“Please, please, don’t kill meAH, ohgod”

A dark laugh, “I’m not gonna kill you, sugar. Thought about it, but when am I gonna find an ass this good again? Nah, I’m gonna take you back with me, keep you strapped down because you’re the, fuck, cutest goddamn specimen I ever caught.”

On the couch, Joseph tenses, cumming in the sleeve he’s using with a cry at the same moment the killer on screen cums and bends to kiss his co-stars tear-streaked face.

Joseph hits the remote, causing the T.V to go dark and reveal Barclay’s reflection.

“Shit!” Joseph leaps up, making Barclay yelp in surprise, “oh, oh thank the lord it’s just you….oh god how much of that did you see?”

“Some?”

Joseph drops to the couch, head in hands, “shit. I’m, I’m so sorry Barclay, I, I never wanted you to know about this habit, I’m sorry it’s awful.” The voice between his fingers sounds like it might cry.

“I mean, that wasn’t like a snuff film, right?”

“Those aren’t real.”

He can’t help but smile remembering Joseph’s rant on the subject, “what I meant was: those guys are just actors getting paid to do a scene like that, not some actually getting attacked.”

“Of course not.” Joseph looks up, horrified, “I’d never watch something like that. The, the whole reason I like this company is that they do horror porn under very ethical working conditions.”

“Then why are you acting like I caught you pissing in my coffee?”

“Does the fact I get off to this honestly not bother you?”

“I mean, people get off to all sorts of shit. Like, um, like” he twists the bracelet on his wrist, “like their boyfriend tying them up and threatening to make them scream.”

Josephs eyes widen. Then he shakes his head, “No. No we can’t do that.”

“Why not?”

“Because I...I never, ever want to hurt you that way. Even in a scene. I can’t stand the thought of you being scared of me, of turning these impulses loose on you. It sounds fun until I picture it and then it makes me ill. No, this stays firmly in my head.”

“Okay.” He keeps his reply soft to hide his disappointment. Joseph is still on the couch, refusing to look his way, and so he circles it and kneels at his feet to better rub his arms. He thinks about the images on screen. About Joseph, blissed out then suddenly shame-faced. Joseph, two nights ago, calculated and loving as he worked Barclay over.

No, maybe the kind of scene he’s been picturing isn’t for them. But he can think of one that is.

“What if, uh, instead of giving into the desires that freak you out we kind of rechannel them. Like, instead of strapping me down to torment me, you’re doing it to show off?”

Blue eyes meet his for the first time all night, “Say more.”

--------------------------------------

“Ready?” Barclay bats his eyelashes at Joseph as his boyfriend finishes double checking the tightness of the rope he’s using to tie Barclays arms above his head.

“Ready.” Joseph stands, rolling his shoulders and closing his eyes as he takes deep breaths. Then he frowns, “can you start us off?”

“Sure thing, babe.” He nestles his head on the pillow, “okay, you found me tied up like this. What’s your first thought?”

Joseph opens his eyes, gaze sharp, “That I’m so lucky someone left a handsome specimen like you where I could find him.”

Barclays cock twitches at being referred to that way, “You’re not gonna let me go?”

“Not just yet. You’re so perfect, will you let me make a case for staying here with me?”

“Please” Barclay whimpers as Joseph straddles him, knife in hand.

“I’m very precise, for starters.” He cuts slowly up Barclays boxers until he can pull the strip of fabric off. Repeats the process, lips a firm line of concentration, with his undershirt, “see? There’s not even a scratch. I have to be careful not to damage my perfect specimen.”

Barclay groans, rolling his hips. Joseph smiles, shifting so his cock rubs against Joseph’s clothed crotch.

“Fuck, Joseph-”

“Shhhh” a gloved thumb brushes his lips, “When you’re like this, my name is Sir.”

“Ohfuck.” Barclay rubs his cheek pleadingly in his palm, “Sir, please, please, untie me so I can touch you.”

“Not yet.” Joseph pats his cheek, scoots backwards on the bed, “besides, you’ll have lots of time to touch me once I take you home and make you my sweet live-in plaything.”

“Holyfuckingshit.” Barclay fights off a dozen tantalizing images of what that could entail to focus on their plan, “Sir? What, uh, what was the guy who tied me up going to do to me?”

His boyfriend settles between his legs, “He was going to take you apart.” He lifts Barclay’s right leg, “starting with these, so if you got free you couldn’t run. This tendon first” he kisses the back of his knee, making Barclay giggle. He pauses, then decides on holding both legs up at once so he can repeat the kiss on the other side. His lips move slowly down to his ankles, right side and then the left, before a final one lands on his arch, “he was going to cut here too. But not me” the kisses continue, “I’m going to rub them every evening so you’re never sore.”

“Fuuuuck” He sighs as Joseph straddles him once more, leaning forward so he can kiss and fondle his arms.

“He was going to slice alllll along here” Joseph’s breathing is picking up the longer he lavishes Barclay with kisses, “then he was going to take your fingers one by one” Joseph kisses each knuckle in turn, his free hand petting Barclay’s face and hair, “then he was going to commit a cardinal sin by mangling these” Joseph toys with his pecks, sucks happily on his left nipple for a moment, “what a crime that would have been.”

“Sir” it’s a whine as Joseph nips and kisses his way down to his navel.

He raises slightly, mouth just above Barclays cock, “and because he had no imagination, he was going to cut this wonderful appendage off. Which is not the treatment it deserves.”

“What treatment does it deserve SirrrrrOHfuck, fuckyes” Barclay pants as Joseph licks stripe after stripe up his cock. As Joseph licks and sucks him to a hard-on, he feels the plug slip from his ass.

“I don’t know what his plans were for that” Joseph sits up, undoing his pants and pulling out his cock, “but I know what mine are.” He pushes Barclays legs wide, works his cock in with slow, steady thrusts while Barclay tries to remember how words work.

“Shit, yes, god your ass is amazing, what kind of person sees it and thinks its for anything but fucking?”

“Nngh” Barclay clings to the ropes as Joseph’s thrusts quicken.

“Lord, I thought you were a perfect specimen before but I was wrong, you look even better taking my cock.”

“Fuck, fuck that’s hot.”

Joseph grip his thighs tight enough to hurt, “well, big guy, will you stay with me?” His eyes glitter, his hair is coming loose and falling across his forehead.

“YesAH, yes, ohfucksirright there” He didn’t notice Joseph changing the angle of thrusts until his cock found his prostate, “I’ll be so good Sir, wanna be a good boy for you.”

“Oh good.” Joseph’s smile goes wolfish for an instant, “because I would have had to do some very mean things to persuade you if you refused.”

Barclay cums at that, staining Joseph’s shirt with white. His hands knock against the headboard as Joseph fucks him hard enough to make him sob with oversensitive pleasure.

“You’re going to be such a nice plaything for Sir, aren’t you?”

“Yes.”

“Good boyOH, ohshit, shit.” Joseph pulls out halfway through cumming, spattering it on Barclays thighs and balls. Carefully, he lowers his legs. Then his boyfriend collapses into his arms, panting and giddy.

“That, that was so fun. I’d say who knew but every time we fuck you show me just how fucking fun all this can be.”

“Aw, babe.” He goes to hug him and rediscovers the ropes.

“Ohshit, here” Joseph sets to work undoing his knots, “are your wrists okay? Not too sore? How about your shoulders?”

“They all feel fucking great, baby. I feel great. How could I not? I got you looking after me.”

Joseph smiles, “and out for you.”

“That too. Now c’mere, special agent, your next assignment is cuddling your boyfriend.”

#sternclay #agent stern/ barclay #meet ugy #taz amnesty