#in any of these situations it was Fine and Dandy and Fine and i felt and feel nothing

[teddyeyeseddie]

To Hell I Go

If She Wants A Cowboy

✰ bull rider Steve x reader

masterlist

✰ cw: broken bones, an er visit, steve in a sling, an eddie debut, first kisses, straddling steve in a creek, smut, minors dni, oral (m rec), boot riding

✰ a/n: this series has been flopping but I am so in love with dandy and our boy that im gonna keep writing it bc they deserve to have their story told, thank you @lofaewrites for betaing :,)

now playing: If She Wants a Cowboy

Steve is rushed right back when he gets to the ER, grumbling an “I’m fine” when he sees the amount of sick kids in the waiting room. Despite his efforts to wait in the lobby, it only takes 30 minutes and he is sitting in a room awaiting his results.

Steve tears up at the news, knowing what this meant for his career. It came to an abrupt stop, throwing Steve forward into a mess of emotions. They did x rays to find that his shoulder was, in fact, broken. His coach eventually leaves, only able to offer so much reassurance and solace. 

He sits cooped up in the ER for what felt like hours, left alone to his devices, those emotions from earlier bubbling and breaching the surface now that he was alone. His dad was right, just like he always is. The job chewed him up and spit him out. Usually, a broken shoulder meant the gig was up, not many riders can recover from a serious injury like that. 

He wills away his spiraling, putting his head back in order to rest. When he’s about to fall asleep, a soft knock resonates through the room. 

“Hey cowboy,” the voice is like music in Steve’s ears, the sound flowing into the air and causing goosebumps to rise on his skin. 

“Dandy, they let you in here at this hour?” he questions, a small smirk on his face as he adjusts himself in bed, wincing when he disturbs his shoulder. 

“Jus’ had to tell them I was your wife,” she replies sheepishly, wincing slightly.

“I did give ya a ring, didn’t I darlin’?” he cracks a wide smile.

You settle yourself into a chair next to the bed, digging in your purse to find the small paper ring Steve had made you days prior. You slip it on your finger once you find it, flashing it at Steve causing him to let out a full-bellied laugh. 

“You kept it?” 

You offer a small nod, reaching your hand out to hold Steve’s free hand. The other slung up as the two of you waited to hear what the next steps are in Steve’s recovery. 

“What’s the verdict here?” you question softly, rubbing your thumb over Steve's calloused hand. 

“Shoulder’s broken. S’ a clean break but fuck if I know what that means,” he groans, throwing his head back as tears form in his eyes. 

“Shit Dandy- I’m sorry, don’t mean to turn into a mess while you’re here. It’s just this could be the end of the line for me,” he pulls his hand away from yours in order to wipe his eyes. 

He settles his hand back in yours, squeezing it as he stares forward at the wall in front of him. 

He didn’t ask you to come and the fact you did makes Steve’s heart flutter inside his chest. You came on your own, and that is more than Steve could ever wish for. 

“I’ll be right here with you, Steve,” you break the silence and lean up to kiss his cheek, the first time you had displayed any sort of affection aside from holding hands. 

He leans into your touch, relaxing and letting himself be loved on. 

The doctors come in moments later, setting his arm and immobilizing it with a fancy looking sling. 

Six weeks.

Six weeks of being rendered useless, Steve groans into the night air once he’s been released at the odd hour of 5 in the morning. Hand in yours as you guide him to your car, helping him get settled into the passenger seat. 

“I guess in the grand scheme of things, I’m lucky,” he says once you get situated. His head is leaned back, exposing the column of his neck as he turns to look at you. 

“How so?”

“A whole summer of being doted on by you? 

“Who said I was gonna dote on you?”

“Mmm I just gotta hunch, Dandelion,” 

Steve isn’t wrong, you are there every day you're off work, going on walks with him or helping his mother cook dinner. 

It’s been about 2 weeks of helping take care of Steve when you pull into his driveway at the early hour of 8am. You softly knock on the door, smiling when you hear a quiet, “come in” from the other side of the door. 

You and his mother, Donna you had come to learn, had become well acquainted, spending the evenings cooking dinner together giving you time to converse regularly. You got all the stories of Steve when he was younger, your favorite being the time he peed off the side of the pool when he was potty training. 

“Is he awake?” you question, setting the groceries Donna had requested you bring the night prior.

“He’s not, had a rough night last night. He said not to let him sleep in if you’re here though,” she says with a sly smirk on her face, like she knows something you don’t know. 

You ignore her look, not wanting to read much into it, trudging upstairs to wake Steve up. 

You smile when you see him, he’s propped up by some pillows, something his mom helps him do every night so he is more comfortable. 

You sit on the edge of his bed, extending your arm to caress his cheek. He stirs a little bit, waking with a small jolt when you begin to run your thumb across the expanse of his jaw. 

“Good morning, Dandelion,” he smiles, his voice thick with sleep, the groggy melody making your cheeks flush. 

“Good morning, Steve,” 

He sits up at the waist, using his free arm to push him up on the bed. He’s right beside you, free hand coming to rest on your thigh. His lips press a soft kiss to your temple.

“Didn’t think you’d be here this early, sorry I wasn’t up,” he mumbles, resting his chin on your shoulder. 

“S’ okay honey, liked getting to wake you up,”

You get up, turning back towards the bed to help him stand. His pajamas are slung low on his hips, soft hair traveling up his belly and to his navel. He looks peaceful like this, freshly woken up, sleep in his eyes and bed head- it makes your heart warm. 

He stretches once he’s standing, averting your eyes as his already impossibly low pants stoop even lower. 

“You gonna shower?” you question, picking at the comforter on Steve’s bed. 

He shakes his head, turning towards his closet and pulling out a pair of wranglers and a t-shirt. 

He turns away before dropping his pajama pants, your cheeks flushing at the sight of Steve in just his boxers. 

He grabs the clothes he laid out on the bed, shimmying his pants up his legs, frowning as he gets to the button. 

“C’mere,” You mumble, buttoning his wranglers, knuckles bumping into his soft belly. 

He smiles down at you, brushing a hair out of our face. 

“Gonna help me with the top now, dandy?” 

You nod, grabbing his top and sliding it up his hurt side, carefully threading his arm through  while it is still bent. He chuckles as he pokes his head through the top, easily pulling his other arm through. 

You wait on his bed after you get his sling back on his arm, Steve having perfected his one-handed bathroom routine. 

He peaks out of the bathroom once he is ready, padding across the room to grab his hat. 

“Ya ready?” 

You nod, following him downstairs. 

When you reach the living room, you’re surprised to see Charlotte and Eddie sitting on the couch. 

“Mudslinger! How ya been?” Eddie gets up, pulling Steve into a hug, Lottie shooting him daggers as he does so. 

“Careful with the man, Eds. He’s fragile,” Charlotte scolds, pulling Eddie away when he starts to get too rough. 

Eddie listens to the woman, settling in beside her with a protective hand on her thigh. 

“Wanted to come visit ya, see if there was anything you needed before I head down to the barn to get some lessons started,” 

The two of the men fall into easy conversation but you and Charlotte find yourselves stowed away in the kitchen, chatting about anything and everything. 

“So- You and Steve, huh? He’s never brought a girl around,” she says as she stirs her tea. 

“Yeah- He uh saved me from Billy Hargrove,” you take a sip from your mug, glancing into the living room to check on Steve. 

“Oof- Eddie used to work on Billy’s ranch breaking horses. Never got paid enough for the work he did, here though? He’s taken care of, Donna makes sure he is anyways,” 

You had learned that a lot of the ranch bonuses and raises used to come from Donna pestering Richard until he caved, that was until Steve came around and gave everyone their well deserved performance based raises.

“Steve’s running it right finally, taught his Daddy more things than he’s taught Steve probably, I can’t wait to see what happens when he finally takes over, maybe he will settle down now that he’s broke himself,” Charlotte rattles off, your stomach lurching at her words, remembering why you’re here.

Steve hurt himself. If he hadn’t been rendered useless in terms of bull riding he’d be off riding in other competitions and eventually nationals. He was kept at home by a broken shoulder, not by you. 

You shake the thoughts away, Steve would have wanted you wherever he was, you had to convince yourself. 

You and Charlotte continue conversing, finally steering the conversation away from you and Steve. 

“Dandy-” You hear Steve shout from the living room, you set down our mug and straighten out your skirt before making your way to him. 

“Whatcha need cowboy,” you question, smiling when you round the corner to see him standing, cowboy hat situated on his head. 

“Come to the creek with me?” he questions, smiling softly as he holds out his hand. 

You turn back towards Charlotte, who is now left alone now that Eddie has gone to the barn to start lessons for the day. She nods her head, shooing the two of you away and out into the summer sun. 

Steve laces your fingers with his, boots crunching on gravel as he makes his way to the stables.

“Wish we could take sonny today,” Steve says, frowning slightly when you pass them. You distract him with a kiss to the cheek, bumping into his hat causing him to let out a chuckle. 

“Tryna kiss me stupid here, honey?” he asks as he continues walking, dipping into some trees at the edge of the property.

“Just tryna kiss ya, cowboy,” he smiles back at you as he leads you through the trees, finally stopping and letting you settle in next to him once you reach the creek. 

You release his hand, kicking off your shoes in order to step in the creek, turning to Steve who is still on the bank.

“Comin’ in?” you grin, looking up at him. He scratches at the scruff that is forming on his chin, contemplating kicking off his boots and joining you.

“I dunno, Dandy,” 

“C’mon, don’t make me enjoy this all alone,”

With that, he toes off his boots as you step forward in the water in order to roll up his jeans for him. You hold your hand out, Steve taking it and stepping into the water with you. The two of you wade in the shallow creek, your back to Steve when you feel a splash of water hit the bend of your knees. 

You whip around, scowling at Steve who has a wide grin on his face. You bend over, skimming your hand in the water in order to splash him back. Steve walks backwards, tripping over his feet, sending him tumbling, falling on his ass. 

You rush to him, dropping to your knees in the shallow water next to him.

“Are you okay?” you question, looking him over as if you’ll see any physical damage. 

He simply smiles at you, on your knees-so close to his lap. He wishes he could pull you onto him and kiss you breathless.

That’s when he realizes there’s nothing stopping him.

He hooks his arm around your waist, pulling you towards him. He mumbles a soft, “C’mere,” as he motions with his head for you to get on.

You swing your leg over his lap, heartbeat high in your throat as you look down at him. It’s a little awkward, his sling taking up much of the room between the two of you, but it doesn’t matter.

Steve’s eyes travel to your lips, a smile forming on them as your hand raises to pet the hairs adorning the nape of Steve’s neck.

“I think you’re the one that’s trying to kiss me stupid,” you breathe.

“Just tryna kiss ya,” 

With that, he leans in, capturing your lips in a firm kiss. It’s slow–calculated, each movement well thought out as he guides you. You eventually crack a smile while kissing him, teeth knocking together as Steve begins to smile too. You finally pull away when it’s time to catch your breath. 

“Why’d you wait so long, cowboy?” you ask, hand still petting at his hair. 

“Kinda thought you deserved more, Dandy,” he breaths out, thumb rubbing at your hip as his eyes flash back towards your lips. 

“Well- why don’t you let me worry about that, mudslinger” you lean back down, kissing him sweetly before pulling away and getting off his lap. He looks up at you in a daze, lips pink and full as he cracks a smile. 

You help him up and out of the creek, using your now half soaked cardigan to dry your legs off before slipping back into your shoes. Steve gets along fine with getting his boots back on, but you can't help but giggle when you turn to see his jeans still rolled up. You bend down to fix them, Steve mumbling a soft thank you. 

You walk hand in hand back to the house, offering Eddie a small wave when you pass by the stables.

You’re both still sopping wet when you make it to the front porch, Steve groaning when he’s intercepted by Donna at the door. 

“I know you are not about to come in here with those sopping wet jeans on,” She scolds the two of you. 

Steve playfully rolls his eyes, nudging past her and making his way inside. 

“I’ll clean it Mama,” she playfully smacks his good shoulder before retreating back to the kitchen to continue cooking lunch for the Saturday workers. 

Steve opens the door to his room, closing the door after you. 

“Skirt’s pretty soaked, do you want some shorts and a new shirt?” he questions, turning towards his closet to grab himself a change of clothes. You squeak out a small “yes” as you kick off your shoes. He hands you a pair of sweatpants and a shirt, turning back towards the closet. 

In a surge of courage and confidence, your hands find the hem of your shirt, pulling it over your head while Steve’s back is to you. 

When Steve turns around, he feels like he’s been punched in the gut. His lungs are void of air as his eyes rake over your frame, drinking you in. He swears he sees stars when your fingers dip into the waistband of your skirt, dropping it to the floor with a wet thud. 

You stalk towards him, fingers hooking in his belt loops as you guide him to the chair sitting in the corner of his room. 

“Dandelion- sweetheart what are you doing?” Steve asks as you drop to your knees in front of him, eyeing him sweetly. 

“Just let me take care of you, Cowboy,” you push him back by his hip, satisfied once you force him to sit in the chair. 

Fingers come to unbutton his damp wranglers, cock already straining against the rough fabric. You pop the button, slowly unzipping his pants, tapping his thighs so he will lift his hips. 

He’s looking at you with glassy eyes, pupils blown wide as he watches your hand sneak into his boxers and pull out his hard member. 

“Fuck, darlin you don’t have to do this,” his hand reaches down to caress the your flushed cheek. 

“Want to,” your hand strokes him, the drag causing Steve to throw his head back, loud groans leaving his lips as he indulges in the feeling of you taking care of him. 

You suck the head of his cock, tongue swirling around the tip. Steve’s hand comes to thread through your hair, grabbing a fistful and pulling just hard enough to get you off of him. 

“You wanna feel good too?” Steve questions, free hand coming to stroke himself. You nod your head, pleading eyes meeting Steve’s. 

“Ride me then,”

“S-steve your shoulder,” He laughs, the hand that was stroking his cock now caressing your face. His boot begins tapping on the floor beneath you. 

Tap-Tap-Tap

You look up at him through hooded eyes, biting your lip as you lower yourself onto his boot. You let out a soft mewl when the rough leather catches on your clothed clit. You begin to rock back and forth, riding his boot as you take him back into your mouth. 

You take him to the back of your throat, nose bumping into the soft pudge of his tummy, being tickled by the pubic hair that adorns the area. 

He groans, the deep growl echoing off the walls causing you to pull back and shush him. Steve chuckles as he guides his cock back towards your lips, you greedily sucking him in. 

Your hands come to rest on his hairy thighs, your own shaking from the impending orgasm, the coil in your tummy tightening as you use his boot to get off. 

“Jesus, Honey. I’m gonna come if you keep takin’ me so deep like that,” he moans as you release his member with a soft pop, a giddy smile on your face as you look up at him. 

“Kinda the point, Honey,” you begin to stroke him, hand slippery with your spit and his precum.  

“Gonna come,” he grits out, your mouth enveloping him as his hips stutter and his cock twitches in your mouth, hot cum running down your throat. 

You pull off him once he winces at the overstimulation. Your hips are still moving, your sopping cunt still dragging across the ridges of Steve’s boots. 

“You close honey?” Steve asks, a little hint of pity lacing his tone. You whine when he begins to mock you.

Three more thrusts of your hips and you’re coming undone, panties now soaked with your release and seeping onto his cowboy boot. You slump forward when you’ve finished riding out your high, face resting on his thigh mere inches from his now softening cock. His hand pets your hair, letting you rest there for a while before breaking the silence.

“These pants are still wet darlin, need to change,” he taps your cheek, causing you to rise from the spot in his lap and pull yourself off of his boot. You wince when you disconnect from him, blushing when you see the wet spot you left on the leather. Steve however, props his foot up on the ottoman that you were just wedged between and admires the slick spot on his boot-proud of what you’d done to him.

“Might keep it there,” You whine at his words, embarrassed you’d just come undone so easily for him.

“Hey- don’t pout,” he says as he gets up, a soft grunt leaving his lips as he does so. Tall frame towering over yours, his hand coming to brush your unkempt hair out of your face. 

He presses a soft kiss to your forehead, pushing down his pants and stepping out of them. He digs around for a pair of boxers before turning and offering you a pair. 

“Figured you’d soaked your-uh,”

“Panties?”

“You just had me ride your boot, now you’re shy about my wet panties?” you question, a small smirk forming on your lips as you take the pair of boxers from him. 

Now he turns bright red, cheeks flushing at the mere talk of your underwear. 

“I’m a gentleman, Dandy,” you roll your eyes, mumbling a soft, “not in the sheets” as you walk by him. 

“Come on mudslinger, let's get dressed. I’ll make us some lunch once we get downstairs,” 

#Steve x reader #steve Harrington x reader #steve x you #steve Harrington x you #steve x reader smut #steve Harrington x reader smut #steve Harrington x reader fluff #steve x reader fluff #steve Harrington #steve Harrington fanfiction #steve stranger things #steve angst #steve fanfiction #steve harrington fanficton #steve harrington smut #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington series #steve harrington angst

[filmtv2022]

Ineffable Agony

Pairing: Aziraphale x Platonic!Reader x Crowley

Synopsis: One quiet night, Aziraphale and Crowley's world is rocked. A fallen angel is dropped on their doorstep. Their very presence shoves the reality of their Earthly partnership back into view and calls into question the very stability of Heaven and Hell. Aziraphale and Crowley struggle not only to understand the depth of the situation they've found themselves in but also to save the reader.

Warning: bleeding/blood loss + death.

A/N: I tried my best to use gender-neutral language in this one. The reader does have hair, but other than that, I think their physicality is fairly nondescript. As always, I apologize for any mistakes. It's getting late & I'm super tired.

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

Warm light spilled out of the wide windows of A.Z. Fell and Co: Antiquarian and Unusual Books. Inside, surrounded by unruly shelves and half-empty bottles of red wine sat the oddest and most right pair in celestial history. Aziraphale had long since set aside his glass of wine, forgoing further intoxication for a steaming cup of hot chocolate. Crowley on the other hand had continued to sip away, which glass or bottle he was on remained a bit unclear.

Feeling his head turning fuzzy, the demon slowed his pace of consumption, his eyelids heavy with exhaustion and inebriation. In the days post averting the apocalypse, Aziraphale and Crowley found themselves settling into this new life. One free from apparent oversight from both Heaven and Hell. The two indulged in human luxury wherever and whenever they liked, unencumbered by the pull from their respective head offices. For the first time in millennia, they felt truly free to live as they liked, and what a life it was.  

“How does breakfast at the Ritz sound, Angel? I think I could do with a nice morning out, feeding the ducks, fancy tea… or perhaps we'll pop over to France for some crepes?” 

“That sounds lovely. ” Smiling sweetly at Crowley, he swallowed the last bit of his drink before standing to return the dirty cup to the sink in the back. 

A sudden burst of white light flashed like the sun, flooding the space before being replaced by the wretched orange and red of hell fire, stopping him in his tracks. Inky darkness replaced the flare as fast as it happened. Snapping his attention to the entrance, Aziraphale stood in observation waiting in anticipation for something more to happen. Having seen, the display from his seat, Crowley stood and joined the Angel.

“What’s going on?” 

“I…I don’t know. There was a…”

A sudden thump of something heavy smacking into the door forced him to stop speaking. To the human senses, nothing seemed out of place, the world continued to move just as it always had, but that couldn’t be further from the truth. The air began to thrum with energy, the waves pouring into the store erratically, their intensity growing stronger the longer it went on. Crowley hissed, a guttural reaction to the feel of pain that roared through them both. Fighting to stay upright, Aziraphle gripped the demon’s shoulders as he doubled over in pain.

“Are you all right?” Pushing aside the ache that filled his own head, Aziraphale struggled to focus on the present, caught between concern for Crowley and whatever… or whoever was causing this to happen. 

“I’m fine, just dandy, but I’d be better if my insides weren’t twisting around knots.” 

“Yes, of course.”

Closing his eyes, the angel searched for a miracle, one strong enough to put an end to the horrific suffering that flowed freely into the room. Celestial magic hummed over his skin but died as he worked to make it so. Trying again, and failing, dread bubbled hot in in Zira’s chest. 

“It’s not working!”

“Obviously!” 

Groaning, Crowley clutched at his stomach as Aziraphale whimpered next to him. The angel’s head was full to the bursting point as if his mind was being ripped apart at the seams.

“I… I don’t know what to do!” 

Forcing himself to stand to his full height, Crowley removed himself from the angel’s hold, “Fine, I’ll finish this myself.” 

He too searched for a miracle. The darkness of his own magic flooded over his senses as he worked, but nothing happened. The lick of heat that always accompanied his miracles ran cold, leaving a chill over his skin in its absence. Aziraphale’s knees buckled as the pressure in his skull intensified. Dropping to the ground with him, Crowley held onto his angel.

Then as quickly as it started, the vibrations ceased to exist. Panting hard, the pair stood up on shaky legs. Crowley’s hand stayed firm on Aizraphale’s back, helping the Angel along as well as grounding himself. Stumbling toward the door, Zirh’s fingers trembled as he reached for the handle. Glancing at Crowley, he waited for some sign of reassurance, which was freely given in the form of a nearly imperceptible nod. Opening the door, their eyes immediately fell on the torn figure slumped face down on the ground before them. Slashes cut through their jacket and pants, the flesh below ripped to shreds and bleeding heavily. Ichor coated the surface of the stoop, pooling in a wide swath before spilling down the step. Kneeling down to see things more clearly, Aziraphale gently rolled over the stranger, the gore staining his hands red. 

“They’re an angel.” Laying them on their back, his fingers felt for a pulse. It was weak, barely more than a flutter, but it was there.

“Not anymore.” Crowley gritted his teeth as he spoke, the realization of what had happened hitting too close to home, “They’ve been cast down.”

“Cast down? But Heaven they’ve… they’ve taken…” 

“Taken their wings, yes.” 

“That’s not supposed to happen?” 

“And yet it did.” 

“Why?”

“Why not? It certainly makes a statement.” Reaching for their hand, Crowley slowly unfurled their fist, removing the gore-soaked paper from within. 

“A statement for who?”

“Us.” Peeling apart the folds, Crowley read the smeared words aloud, “To the attention of one A.Z. Fell & Anthony J. Crowley. Your actions have consequences that reach far behind the realms of Heaven and Hell. You’ve set something in motion that must be stopped.” 

Locking eyes with the demon, Zira struggles to find words, “What does this mean?”

“I’m sure we’ll find out soon enough.” 

Scooping the fallen angel into his arms, Crowley deftly made his way toward the second floor of the bookshop. Finding the first door on the right partially open, he pushed it open with his foot. A couple of strong strides had him standing next to the bed, scanning over their face for any sign of familiarity. Finding nothing, he placed them down on the mattress on their side before turning his attention to the wounds. Trying yet again to use his magic, Crowley reached out in search of a way to staunch the flow. The stream slowed slightly, but not nearly enough.

“The bleeding won’t stop.” Waiting for an answer, he pushed his palms into the worst of the gashes, but when no response came, he shouted for assistance, “Angel, a little help here!”

“Oh, yes!” knocked back into reality, Aziraphale made his way to the bed, his stained hands once again reaching for the being before him. Using what little magic he could muster, he managed to lessen the bleeding to a trickle.

Feeling it still running between his fingers, Crowley’s head dropped between his shoulders, a deep exhale releasing as he tried to let go of the panic coursing through his system. It was an unnatural state for the demon, one that he’d only felt a few other times in his 6,000 years of life. He’d done a keen job of compartmentalizing the memory of his own fall, relegating it to the deepest depths of his mind. This, however, hit too close to home. While he’d been lucky enough to keep his wings, the transition from Heavinly Being to a Demon of Hell was horrific at best. The darkness, the pain… the loneliness. It was all too much to think about even now, all these years later. 

Letting go of his hold on their wounds, Crowley gingerly placed them on their back, hoping the pressure who stop the rest of the bleeding. Sinking down beside the bed, he rested his head back on the mattress and closed his eyes tightly.

“What could they possibly have done to deserve this?” Aziraphale’s voice cracked as he spoke, his eyes never leaving their face. Brushing his fingers over their hair, he pushed the blood-coated strands out of the way.

“We better hope they wake up so we can find out.” Standing up, Crowley stalked out of the room, pounding down the hall toward the bathroom. 

Turning on the water, he let it pour from the faucet until steam rolled from the stream. Hot enough to scald, he scrubbed vigorously at his hands. The red of the gore was replaced by the angry color of his skin beneath as he fought to rid himself of the stains. Standing in the doorway to the bathroom, Aziraphale watched in concern, his brows furrowed at the sight before. Losing control of himself, Crowley snapped off the water, slamming his fists down upon the porcelain and letting loose a rage-filled growl. Pushing his way past the angel, he pounded down the stairs toward the front door.

Following in his wake, Zira called to his demon, “Where are you going?”

“To find out what in the hell is going on?” 

“But what if something happens… I-I should come with you.”

Snapping around, Crowley’s yellow eyes stopped Aziraphale in his tracks, “Stay here, take care of the angel… demon… thing. I’ll be back, I promise.” 

Nodding in agreement, Aziraphale watched Crowley drive away, the Bentley tires screaming along the pavement.

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

Agonizing flashes of pain radiated from the jagged wounds as cold sweat coated your skin turning into a slick mess of drying blood and perspiration. Spasms racked your body, each one more powerful than the last. You were dying, or so you thought. But what did that really mean for angel turned demon? You were even really alive to begin with? Where would your ‘death’ leave you? Certainly not in Heaven, they’d made it quite clear you were no longer welcome amongst their kind. So that left two other options. One being an eternity in Hell, rotting away with the other demons. The other was much more frightening… nothingness, your soul relegated to the black void somewhere between the realms. Alone. Cold. Unneeded… Unwanted. Stuck in purgatory for all time. 

Time ceased to exist, and all sounds and feelings apart from the physical and mental torment fell away as you were trapped in the endless cycle of pain. Giving into it all, you allowed yourself to fall further away from the light. The beacons of Heaven were only a dim glow on the horizon. Their cool white was replaced by the furious red of the gates below. It was warm, welcoming even. It would have been so easy to let go, to surrender, and yet some small part of you keep a firm hold on the life you’d had before. Unable, or perhaps unwilling, to relinquish it fully.

The gentle press of a hand against your cheek pulled a quiet whimper from you, the touch kind and comforting. A tender voice spoke in a low mumble, their words unclear, but their intentions certain. There was something familiar about it as if a long-lost friend had come to visit. 

“I’m so sorry, but this is going to hurt.” 

Undoing the buttons of your shirt, the person gingerly pulled you into their chest, your forehead resting on their shoulder as they removed your top. A strangled groan fell from your lips at their ministrations.

“I know, I know.” Smoothing over your hair, they laid you back on the bed, this time on your side so they could access your body. 

Walking around to the other side of the bed, they began the delicate work of cleaning the wounds. Rag and after rag came away crimson, and the cloths were discarded nearby on the floor. Slowly, but surely, the gashes were stitched and covered. Finished closing the wounds, they began to wash away the rest of the blood as best they could. The task was slow and tedious. 

“There, that’s better. Now. let’s get you some fresh clothes.” 

Standing from the bed, Aziraphale sought out a pair of his pajamas. Returning to your side, he slipped the jumper over your head and shoulders, taking great care to not bump your most tender spots. Moving on, he carefully peeled away your trousers, the white was splotched with darkening red. Dropping them on the pile of used rags, he then shimmied the plaid bottoms over your frame. His hands were unsure and timid as he moved. 

Once again laying flat on your back, Zira pulled a blanket over you. Taking a moment to adjust the pillows, he sank back down into the spot next to you, his hands wrapping warmly around your own. 

“Who are you?” 

The previous question was barely more than a whisper, making the utterance of a name from your lips even more surprising. With eyes closed tight, and no other signs of consciousness, a singular word tumbled out for him to hear.

“Aziraphale…” 

Zira was left speechless. What about him? Why were saying his name? 

In a measure of cosmic timing, the telephone downstairs began to ring. It’s incessant trill bounding off the walls, calling to the angel. Leaving his spot, he was forced to let go of your hands. The loss of his touch caused a pained look to contort your features.

“I’ll be right back, don’t you worry.” 

Silence fell over the room, as Aziraphale quietly closed the door behind himself, leaving you alone. It was as if in his absence the darkness began to creep back in, closing the distance between you and the void. Black hands reached for you, threatening to drag you away from the world of the living. Fighting against their searing grip, your body twitched and thrashed on the bed. Soon the motions were followed by gasping screams, the sounds shrill and bloodcurdling flew down the stairs toward Aziraphale. The pounding of footfalls was masked by the blistering screeches from Hell that rang in your ears. Soft hands gripped your shoulders, calling to you through the panic.

“I’m here, I’m…” Placing his palm on the side of your head, the heat rolling off your skin nearly burned him. Knowing he needed to act quickly, he flooded your mind with celestial light. Instantly, your body began to relax and your temperature dropped.

Falling limp against the pillows, your chest rose and fell in rapid succession. Sweat had soaked through the collar of the shirt, staining it darker than the rest. Aziraphale’s fingertips ran in soft arcs down your face as he continued to murmur words of comfort. Fearful of leaving your side again, he yanked the chair from the corner of the room to the side of the bed. Clasping your hand in his, he took a seat and waited. Crowley would be back soon enough, he’d promised.

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

Hours passed and eventually, sleep overtook Aziraphale. Slumping back in the chair, he managed to keep a hold of your hand. Returning to the bookshop with little to no information in hand, Crowley made his way upstairs in search of his Angel. The door to the first guest room was flung wide open, and he was greeted with the image of Zira fast asleep, the lines of worry still creased between his brows. With his promise to return in mind, Crowley softly shook the angel awake. 

“You’re back.”

“I promised, didn’t I.” 

“Of course, What did you find out?”

“Not much. Nothing seems out of place, and the lines between Hell and Earth are quiet. Whatever this is, it’s either from Heaven alone or somebody’s going to dangerous lengths to keep it hidden.” 

“Hidden? They were dropped on our front porch! How is that hidden?” 

“You’ve got a point, but it doesn’t change the fact that there's nothing on the radar.” Turning to look at the stranger on the bed, Crowley’s tone softened as he spoke again, “How are they doing?” 

“As best as can be expected… there was so much blood.” Shifting forward, Aziraphale adjusted his grip on your hand, “They spoke in their sleep while you were away. It didn’t make sense, but they spoke.”

“What did they say?”

“My name…”

“You name? As in Aziraphale, Angel of the Eastern Gate, giver of the flaming sword and forestaller of the end of days” 

“That’s what I’ve said isn’t it?” Impatience touching the edge of the question.

“Yes, but how would they know your name?”

“I haven’t the slightest idea…” 

Crowley’s thoughts raced at the realization of what that could mean for Heaven. If they had fallen so far as to mutilate those they cast down then things were much worse off than he’d ever expected.

“Perhaps Heaven’s become more like Hell than they’d ever care to admit.” 

Stunned into silence, the pair sat quietly for a while, observing the rise and fall of your chest. The steady movement was just enough to ease some of the worries that festered. 

“There was one other thing they said while you were gone?”

“Yes?” 

“The phone rang while you were out, when I left to answer, they… they started to scream—terrible screeching wails, as if… as if Hell itself was coming for them. And when I returned, their skin… it was burning like fire. Between the screams, they were calling for you.”

“Me?”

Nodding yes, he continued on, “Over and over, begging… pleading for you. They know us Crowley, and yet I’m sure I’ve never seen this face before.” 

“Neither have I.” 

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

Morning broke over the quaint yet busy street, and the rumble of cars and voices floated in from outside. Your eyes fluttered open, and the unchecked sunlight beaming into the room assaulted your sensitive eyes. Hissing at the daggers of light, your whole body recoiled. Slamming your lids shut again, you scrambled back to retreat from the intrusive light. The mangled flesh of your back crashed against the headboard in your attempt to flee from the light. The sudden movement sent shockwaves through your body as the stitches in your wounds tugged sharply. Hearing and feeling your stir, Aziraphale and Crowley sat bolt upright in their respective positions. Zira in the same chair as the night before, and Crowley in the vanity chair across the room. 

Catching your attempt to flee from the overwhelming sensations, Aizraphale reached for your shoulders and tried his best to push you back down into the pillows. His sure hands were commanding and gentle as they kept you from hurting yourself further. 

“You’re all right. Careful now or you’ll rip your stitches.” 

Simultaneously, Crowley was up out of his chair, his own hand coming up to grip your chin, holding your face in his direction. Your eyes flew open again as if called to look by some hell-born bond. And what he saw brought a moment of hesitation. The whites of your eyes were flooded with a sickening crimson as if every blood vessel had burst. While your pupils were blown large, covering nearly the entirety of your eyes. Shaking off the unsettling nature of your appearance, the demon deftly removed his sunglasses and placed them on your face. 

“It’s their eyes, they’re not used to the light.” Stepping back, Crowley reached out a hand to Aziraphale, pushing him away from you, “Careful, Angel, emotions can be a bit unsteady.” 

“It’s all right, Crowley. As you said, they’re in pain, why don’t you let me help.” 

“I’m not sure that’s a good idea.” 

“Nonsense!” stepping back to your side, Aziraphale’s fingertips aligned with your temples as a gentle light filled the room.

Your breathing began to slow as the ache faded both mentally and physically. Slowly, you opened your eyes, finding that the dark lenses made the world around you much more bearable to view. Weakness replaced the pain leaving you incapable of moving, your power sat dormant, but hot beneath your skin. The heady mix of emotions melded together in what was certain to become an explosive combination. 

Pushing down the flames, you spoke as if greeting old friends, “Crowley… Aziraphale… finally.” 

“How do you know our names?” Zira’s question was far from accusatory.

“Oh Aziraphale, I’ve known you for thousands of years… the same goes for you, Crowley.” 

“Who are you? Why do you know us?” Crowley on the other hand couldn’t help the accusation that threaded over his words.

Tilting your head to the side, you focused on him. The yellow of his snake-like eyes glinted in the sun, strong and fierce in demeanor. 

“It was my job, to know you, to follow your biddings here on Earth. Like a celestial watchdog, I suppose.” 

“Watchdog?” Crowley tensed at the very thought of Heaven having watched him for millennia after his fall. 

“Yes. It was my job to track your movements, particularly in the years since your delivery of the AntiChrist. Well, you and Aziraphale. There was some… hesitation regarding the pair of you, given your shared history of questionable decision-making. Need I mention your flaming sword and apple debacles?” Your voice was weak and breathy as if speaking drained you of what little energy you’d recouped.

“All right, no need to rub it in. Enough about us, you’ve yet to answer our other question, demon. Who are you?” 

“Well, I don’t know how this works exactly, but I suppose my angelic name will do for now. I’m Y/N.” 

“And why are you here… Y/N?” Aziraphale uttered your name sweetly as if to encourage you to continue. 

“It’s simple really, I’m the same as you, Crowley. I asked too many questions… I doubted the ineffable plan.” Sinking further back into the pillows, you turned your head to look at the demon. 

“You what? Why?” Aziraphaled asked in shock.

“Because… you were happy.” Shifting your body slightly so that you could gaze at him, you felt a warm hand wrap around your own, “And the more I watched you here on Earth enjoying your lives together, the humanity … it made me think. Why were we going to end it all? And after such a short time as well? I saw how you looked at the world and couldn’t imagine it ceasing to exist. But even more than that… I couldn’t bear the thought of…” 

Your voice caught in your throat as a fresh spasm racked your frame. The tightening of the muscles along the expanse of your back ripped the air from your lungs causing you to gasp and groan. Folding forward at the waist, the glasses slipped down your nose exposing your eyes to the blinding rays once again. Desperate to block it out, you pressed the heel of your palms into your eyes knocking the sunglasses onto the blanket covering your lap. Steady vibrations rolled through the space around you as your power spilled out unchecked. A blood-curdling wail tore from your lips as your skin flushed hot from the touch of Hell once more. Shocked by the sounds, Aziraphale took a few steps back, putting some distance between the two of you.

Crowley had returned to your side, his strong hands holding tightly to your biceps. The heat of your skin burned and blistered his palms, and yet he remained unfazed. 

“Y/N, Y/N, listen to- listen to me. You’ve got to push away, you’ve got to fight against it!”

Gripping you tightly, he watched as your body spasmed beneath his touch. Blood soon tinged the light cream of the jumper you were wearing, the sudden movements having torn the stitches from your flesh. Furthermore, the heat radiating from within you singed the fabric, leaving behind blackened holes in its wake. A wet gurgle accompanied your labored breathing as if you were drowning on dry land. Coughing and choking, a blackish liquid oozed out the corners of your mouth, the scene grew more horrific as the substances ran down the exposed column of your neck. Crowley’s palms smoothed over it, wiping away the mess as best he could, but it just kept coming. Every wet hack brought more of it flooding out to replace what he’d tried to clean up. 

“Crowley! Crowley, what’s happening?” Stammering, Aziraphale was frozen to his spot.

“They’re dying, the transition is consuming them.”

“But I thought-”

“Whatever you thought about this was wrong, Angel. This is the reality.”

“But I… what we can do?” 

“There’s nothing we can do except ease their pain and hope for the best. It’s up to them now. Either they find the strength to fight against the darkness or it consumes them.” 

Trembling, Zira moved to your side and eased himself down onto the bed. Cautiously, he reached out to touch you, his hand brushing over Crowley’s as he sought out your temples. 

Turning his head to look at the demon, Aziraphale whispered one simple word, “Together.” 

Understanding what he meant, Crowley nodded his head silently. Placing the pads of their fingers along your hairline, the two worked to rid you of the pain. A calming wash of peace flooded over you, chasing out the panic and terror. Your hot skin now sat cool to the touch, and the blisters covering Crowley’s hands began to heal. Slowly, your breathing regulated and the crackling wetness ceased to hinder your lungs. Serene peace settled over your features as they untwisted from the pain. Sensing that the limit of help and available miracles for this situation had been reached, both Crowley and Aziraphale sat back. Their eyes never left you as they watched for signs that their magic had failed. Zira was the first to speak

“What do we do now?”

“We wait.” 

“For how long?”

“Not long now I think.” Crowley’s voice was thick with emotion. 

Tracking the rise and fall of your chest, the pair watched as the movement became more erratic. The time between inhales turned more inconsistent and further apart the longer time went on. Eventually, it stopped altogether, and the last vestiges of pain fell from your features leaving behind a mask of perfect peace. 

“What do we do now?” Zira asked in shock.

“We find out who the hell is responsible and we make them bleed” Looking Aziraphle in the eyes, Crowley's own brimmed with emotion, “But more importantly, we live, we live for them.

#aziraphale fanfiction #crowley x reader x aziraphale #aziraphale x reader x crowley #good omens fanfiction #good omens #crowley x reader #aziraphale x reader #crowley fanfiction #whumptober #whumptober 2023

[chvoswxtch]

one huge misunderstanding. (6/?)

pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader

summary: eddie munson desperately needs to graduate this year, and you're the only tutor that hasn't turned him down. (this is part 6 of this series!)

warnings: cursing, some fluff, explicit sexual content (minors dni)

word count: 8.2k

a/n: I sincerely hope you're all feeling slutty. this starts with fluff but ends up being just pure fucking filth. I got carried away as usual (I have a “too much” gene, sue me). I want to reiterate that if smut is not your thing, please feel free to skip this part! it will not hurt my feelings! I would once again like to thank each and every one of you for taking the time to read, reblog, or comment on this series. seeing all your kind words makes me so happy. as always, feedback is welcomed/appreciated! please let me know if you would like to be tagged!

tags: @uraveragequeer @rosaline-black @willowss055 @lovsersclub @bellegirl16 @boeutiful @starryeyedkoko

Instead of being greeted by Eddie’s sweet smile on Monday morning, I was met with the sight of a very displeased Principal Higgins standing in front of the library doors with his arms crossed over his chest. My heart immediately began to race as I approached him, doing my best to appear calm and collected.

“Miss Y/L/N.”

“Good morning, Principal Higgins.”

“Would you follow me, please?”

“O-of course, sir.”

My stomach twisted into knots and dropped into what felt like an abyss. I instantly began to rack my brain, trying to think of any possible explanation why he would want to see me. I had never been in trouble before and I was bubbling with anxiety. I gripped onto the straps of my backpack until my knuckles turned white, my body feeling heavier with every step we took towards his office. It felt like I was at the very top of a roller coaster, right before you went over the edge and plummeted below, only I didn’t know what was waiting for me at the bottom. I braced myself for impact as he opened the door to his office for me.

However my fear quickly morphed into confusion when I saw both Eddie and Jason sitting in the chairs in front of the large wooden desk. Both of their heads snapped up when we entered. Eddie’s mouth split into a huge grin as he looked me up and down, sending me a charming wink. Jason on the other hand had his jaw set in a hard line, watching me like a hawk.

“Miss Y/L/N, I apologize for interrupting your tutoring schedule, however I need you to help settle a matter. It appears you were somewhat involved in the incident that occured last week. Now, Mr. Carver and Mr. Munson have very different stories about what happened, so I need you to shed some light on the situation.”

“Does she really need to be involved? Look, I told you what happened. Everything was perfectly fine and dandy until this asshole showed up bothering my girlfriend. Dickhead even pushed her into a locker, which by the way, wasn’t very prom king of you, Carver.”

My girlfriend.

“Mr. Munson, language. I’ve already heard your side. I’m asking for hers.”

“Your what?! What the hell are you-”

“Carver! Enough. Both of you, shut up. Not another word, or that’s detention for a week.”

Eddie slumped back in his chair, throwing his hands up in surrender with a roll of his eyes. Jason’s fists clenched by his side, whipping his head to stare at me expectantly. I could feel the anger radiating off of him in the small room. I know whose side he wanted me to take. I considered my options for a moment. I could blame it all on Jason. I’m sure Principal Higgins would believe me, and maybe that would finally get him to go away. Or it would make him retaliate even more. I sighed as I took a step closer towards Principal Higgins’ desk, looking at him with a shy smile.

“Um..sir I think..this has all been just one huge misunderstanding. You see, I’ve been tutoring Eddie for the past two months to help him graduate. And Jason, well I used to tutor him too. See he thought that Eddie was bothering me, he didn’t know that I was his tutor, or that..um..we were dating.”

My cheeks flushed a deep shade of pink. Explaining my love life to my principal was not on my to do list for today. Still, I felt a bit giddy, getting to say it out loud. Eddie Munson and I were dating. Eddie Munson asked me to be his girlfriend Saturday night. Eddie Munson is my boyfriend.

“Cause it was none of his damn business.”

“Munson.”

I tried to contain my giggles as I heard Eddie grumble under his breath. I had to wrap this up quickly. Principal Higgins was losing his calm, Eddie couldn’t handle another second of sitting still, and out of the corner of my eye, Jason Carver looked like he was about to explode.

“He..wasn’t aware. I didn’t think as his tutor it was appropriate to discuss my personal life while I was supposed to helping him with his assignments. Look, both of these boys were just trying to stick up for me because they thought the other was being a bother. And while I appreciate that, it did get out of hand. But..I don’t think either of them should face serious consequences. Like I said, it was all a big misunderstanding.”

Principal Higgins stared at me silently for a moment as if contemplating something in his head. I nibbled on my bottom lip nervously, hoping I at least helped Eddie avoid troublesome repercussions. To hell with Jason. He was the least of my worries at the moment. Principal Higgins sighed as he rose from his desk, placing one of his hands on his hips and pointing his index finger between the two boys.

“I want you two to listen, and listen carefully. There are two months left of school. Two. Months. Now I know you two don’t like each other, but so help me God, if either one of you ends up in my office because of the other, you’re both expelled. Carver, I know you got a basketball scholarship waiting on you across that stage. And Munson, you are actually on track to graduate this year. I would hate to think you both would throw those futures away because you two can’t learn to be civil. Now I’m not asking you to hold hands and braid each other’s hair. But Goddammit, stay the hell away from each other. I mean it, I don’t want to hear a thing about the two of you. Not even so much as a polite disagreement, or you’re both done. Am I understood?”

I let out a breath I didn’t even know I was holding, feeling the tension roll off my shoulders as I finally felt my body relax. Both sulking boys muttered a half-hearted, ‘yes sir’, looking anywhere but at each other. Principal Higgins sat back down in his seat, adjusting the glasses that were perched on the bridge of his nose.

“Good, now get the hell out of my office. Y/L/N, stay. I’d like a word alone with you.”

Jason didn’t hesitate to shove the chair he was sitting in back with force, storming out of the office. Eddie on the other hand took his time, giving me a cheshire grin and a quick peck on the cheek before rushing out to prevent facing more of Principal Higgins’ wrath. I took a seat in the chair Eddie had occupied, looking over at Principal Higgins with a timid smile.

“Miss Y/L/N, I don’t know how you did it, but you are getting Eddie Munson the hell out of my school. Which means I don’t have to find a replacement for Mrs. O’Donnell, and for that, I am eternally grateful.”

“He actually wants to graduate this year, sir. He’s been working really hard. He just needed a reason to keep at it, I guess.”

“Well, I believe he found one in you. You gave him hope, Y/N. You didn’t give up on him, and God knows you had reason to. He listens to you. So please, try and keep him out of trouble, or else I’ll be joining Mrs. O’Donnell in early retirement.”

I couldn’t help but giggle at the exasperated look on his face. I nodded my head slowly, giving him a small smile as I put my backpack over my shoulders and tucked a few loose strands of hair behind my ears.

“I will do my best, sir.”

“Thank you. If anyone can do it, it’ll be the class of 86’s valedictorian.” 

I blinked a few times as I stared at Principal Higgins, my mouth hanging open in surprise. Over the past two months I had been so enamored with Eddie, I had completely forgotten that I was in the running for class valedictorian. I felt warm tears prick at the corner of my eyes and my chest swelled with pride.

“I-what?”

“Official records came in this morning. I was going to come find you anyway to congratulate you, but I had to deal with those two shitheads first. Congratulations, Y/N. You earned it.”

My vision was starting to become blurry and I knew at any moment I would become a blubbering mess. I did my best to will away the tears, a bright smile covering my mouth as I nodded fervently.

“T-thank you. Thank you sir, I really appreciate it.”

I left Principal Higgins office feeling like I was floating on cloud nine. I couldn’t hardly believe it. I was going to be a valedictorian, something I had worked so hard for these past four years. I couldn’t wait to tell my mom and Nancy. I couldn’t wait to tell Eddie.

Eddie.

Just as I was about to rush down the hall to find him, I saw both him and Jason waiting outside of the main entrance to the office. He beamed when he saw me, instantly rushing over to wrap me in one of his signature embraces. But his happiness quickly morphed into worry when he saw the tear tracks on my cheeks.

“There you are! What the hell did he-wait, are you crying? What’s wrong? What happened?”

Eddie immediately began searching my face with his fingers, eyes raking over my entire body like he was looking for some kind of invisible clue. I laughed softly as I grabbed onto his wrists, looking up into his beautiful brown eyes with a smile.

“Nothing, nothing is wrong I promise.”

“So it’s true then?”

Once again my happiness is ruined and ripped away by Jason Carver. I let go of Eddie’s wrists and sighed deeply, wiping at my cheeks and turning around to face the irritated blonde as I crossed my arms over my chest. He was practically fuming. His blue eyes were wild with rage and his fists remained clenched at his sides.

“Not that it is remotely any of your business, but yes.”

“C’mon Y/N, you’re not seriously dating the freak?” 

“Wow, finally learned her name. Only took you four years, asshole.”

“Shut up, freak.”

I had had it with Jason fucking Carver. I was over his fragile narcissistic ego. I was through with him walking around like royalty and that we were all beneath him. I was done being the nice girl.

“First of all, his name is Eddie. Second of all, you should be thanking me. I kept you from getting expelled, so you owe me. You are going to leave Eddie and I alone, or you can kiss your pretty little scholarship goodbye. I will ruin you, Carver. And trust me, I will enjoy every single second of it. I’m going to say this one time, and one time only. Fuck off.”

Jason’s eyebrows nearly disappeared into his hairline. His mouth hung wide open and shock was written clearly all over his features. He glanced behind me and then back at me, his lips curling into a sneer. His nostrils were flaring as he shook his head.

“You’re gonna regret this.”

And with that, Jason Carver was stomping down the hall, and hopefully would remain as far away from me as possible. I let out a sigh of relief, turning around only to be faced with Eddie whose features were also covered in shock. His eyes were wider than usual, and his mouth was agape as he stared down at me. I giggled at his dumbfounded expression and knit my brows quizzically.

“Jesus Christ, I am so fucking hard.”

It was my turn to gape at Eddie. I gasped as I reached out to playfully smack Eddie’s chest, only for the hallway to be filled with his booming laughter.

“Eddie! We’re in school!”

“Yeah, we’re in school, and my super hot tutor girlfriend just told Jason Carver she would ruin his life, and to fuck off, so naturally I’m hard as a rock, sweetheart.”

Eddie lightly shrugged his shoulders, leaning back against the wall as he stared down at me with his signature smirk. I pursed my lips trying to hide my smile, taking a step closer towards him as I crossed my arms across my chest and quirked one of my brows while staring up at him.

“Excuse me, Mr. Munson, but that is no way to speak to your valedictorian.”

Eddie’s eyebrows lifted and the smile on his face faltered for just a moment. I could see the gears turning in his head as he began to piece together what I had just said.

“Wait..what?”

“Principal Higgins just told me. That’s um..that’s why I was all emotional. I was just..well..happy.”

Eddie wrapped me up into his arms and lifted me off the ground, spinning us around in wide circles as he started to yell.

“My girlfriend is a valedictorian! She’s hot and she’s smart, and she’s all mine assholes!”

“Eddie! Put me down! And stop yelling, I’m supposed to be keeping you out of trouble!”

I told Eddie not to bring the boys to the library for lunch. It was my turn to go sit with them. Now that I didn’t have to worry about Jason anymore, I felt like I could actually breathe. I didn’t have to hide anymore. I could hold Eddie’s hand in the hallway. I could tutor him outside at the front tables. I could sit with him and his friends at lunch. I felt like I had this incredible newfound freedom that I had been missing.

I slowly approached the Hellfire table, noticing that all of the boys were deep in conversation about something. Dustin was the first to perk up when he noticed me standing at the end of the table, not hesitating to shove Mike and Lucas back into their seats so he could see me clearly. He gave me a huge grin and waved frantically.

“Hey Y/N!”

“Hi Dustin.”

“What are you doing here? Eddie said not to meet you in the library.”

“Oh yeah..well..I actually wanted to sit with you guys today instead. If..that’s alright?”

Dustin shot up from his seat, grabbing the back of the chair Mike was sitting on and pulling it out from under him. Mike fell to the floor with a yelp, looking up at Dustin angrily.

“What the hell?”

“Move asshole, Y/N needs a place to sit.”

“Not so fast, Henderson. She’s sitting with me.”

I looked up to see Jeff already shuffling a seat down. I glanced between him and Eddie, shaking my head as I motioned to an empty seat across from Lucas.

“Oh no..please. You don’t have to move, Jeff. I don’t want to disrupt the order. I can sit here, it’s no big-”

“Nonsense, sweetheart. The dungeon master sits at the head of the table, and his queen sits next to him.”

My breath caught in my throat at the look Eddie was giving me. Rose coated my cheeks as Eddie gave me a knowing smirk, rising from his chair to hold out the one next to him for me. I smiled shyly as I walked around the table to sit in the chair. Eddie pressed a kiss to the top of my head and pushed my chair in for me, shooting me a wink as he plopped back down in his spot.

“So, about our next campaign-”

“Can I come?”

Eddie’s eyes nearly bugged out of his head as he looked at me. His large hand stilled over the notebook he was about to pick up, eyes never leaving mine. All conversations had stilled and each of the boys were focused on me.

“W-what?”

“I know there’s only two months left of school but..is it too late to join? I could use an extra club on my college applications.”

Eddie was still staring at me like I had grown two heads. He blinked a few times before slowly meeting the gaze of all the other boys at the table. He awkwardly scratched at the back of his neck, gesturing vaguely to the middle of the table.

“Uh..well we..usually place new members to a vote. But um-”

“Seriously, Eddie? What the hell is the point of dating you if Y/N doesn’t automatically get into Hellfire?”

“I’m not a dictator, Henderson. This is a democracy.”

“But isn’t the decision obvious?”

“I can’t read minds, Wheeler. Look we’ll just-”

“Screw that. Welcome to Hellfire, Y/N.”

“Thank you, Lucas.”

I grinned at the younger boys across the table, turning my attention to Eddie with a satisfied smirk. Was he blushing? I could hear Jeff and Gareth snickering at his reaction, urging him to continue with updates about their newest campaign. Eddie cleared his throat and opened his notebook, searching for a specific page. Sometimes it was fun to see Eddie flustered. After all the teasing and flirting, it was payback.

“So, when do I get one of those cute shirts?”

The week had gone by without a hitch, much to my surprise. Jason still shot daggers in our direction and gave us a pissy look anytime he saw Eddie and I together, but he kept his distance. He knew better. I still hadn’t gotten used to all the staring and whispering that occurred whenever Eddie and I walked down the hall together, but it didn’t really bother me anymore. In less than two months, we were graduating, and I would never have to see any of these people again. Why the hell should I care what they think? I had joined Eddie and the boys Thursday night for Hellfire club for my first ever campaign. I had absolutely no idea what was going on, but I enjoyed every second of it. There was such a high energy in the room, and I watched in wonder how serious the boys took their game. I was impressed by how much work and thought actually went into it. I also loved getting to see Eddie completely in his element.

I had invited Eddie over Friday night since my mom was going away on a weekend trip with her latest beau. I hadn’t told her the news about Eddie yet. I was mentally preparing myself for that conversation. I knew without a shadow of a doubt she would accept him, but I was absolutely dreading her embarrassing me in front of him. I was almost certain she would probably throw a pack of condoms at him and go on a rant about how she was “too young to be a grandmother”. 

Eddie said he would stop by Family Video to pick up some movies for us for tonight. I had invited him over to have a movie night, but I hadn’t told him I was cooking dinner for us. I really wanted to surprise him and do something nice for him. I know it’s only been a week and I’m being super dramatic, but Eddie has truly been the best boyfriend I’ve ever had. For our first date that Sunday, he had taken me to my favorite bookstore and let me pick out whatever book I wanted, and then we went for ice cream. It was the sweetest thing anyone had ever done for me.

I jumped slightly at the sound of knocking at the door, quickly putting the finishing touches on the dish before rushing to open the front door. I grinned as I was met with Eddie’s tall figure leaning against the door frame. He held two video tapes in his hands as he narrowed his eyes down at me with a smirk.

“Alright, I got you your Anthony Michael Hall. But the second I see you drooling over this dipshit, I’m putting on my pick. Now, I know you don’t like scary movies, but I think you’ll love Silver Bullet. Besides, if you get scared you can sit on my lap.”

“Eddie, the only person I’ll be drooling over is you. Also, you know we’re dating right? If you want me to sit on your lap, all you have to do is ask.”

Eddie’s cocky smirk faltered at my words, his eyes widening slightly. I shook my head and giggled at his reaction, grabbing him by the collar of his jacket and pulling him inside.

“Wait, that’s an option? You mean I can just-hang on. What is that heavenly smell?”

I bit down on my bottom lip as I looked up at Eddie with a shy smile, tucking a loose strand of hair behind my ear as I gestured behind me to the kitchen.

“Oh I um..I made dinner.”

“What?”

“I..wasn’t sure if you would be hungry, so I um..made us some chicken alfredo. I hope you like Italian. I um..also baked some chocolate chip cookies too, for dessert.”

Eddie stared at me with parted lips for a full silent moment. His brows knit together in the center of his forehead, glancing between me and the kitchen.

“You..cooked dinner..and..baked cookies?”

“Um..yeah.”

“That..is the cutest fucking thing I have ever heard.”

Giggling softly, I rolled my eyes and grabbed Eddie’s hand, tugging him towards the kitchen area. I lightly tapped his chest and motioned towards the table for him to sit as I went to grab us some plates. 

“You say that now. I could be a terrible cook.”

Eddie shrugged his jacket off his shoulders and placed it over the back of the chair. I could see him watching me out of the corner of my eye as he finally sat down. I added the pasta to both of our plates with a few garnishes. I might have been going overboard on the presentation, but I wanted everything to be perfect. I wanted to show Eddie how much I appreciated him. Offering him a shy smile, I set both of our plates down on the table and took a seat beside him. There was a candle burning in the middle of the table that cast a beautiful glow on his features. 

He glanced down at the plate, his eyes lingering for a moment before he took in his surroundings and finally settled his gaze back on me. Eddie cocked his head slightly, staring at me in an expression that resembled disbelief.

“You..you did all this for me?”

“Well, yeah. You planned our last date, it was my turn. I wanted to make sure it was just as special as you did.”

“I mean I just..I just took you to a bookstore and for ice cream, sweetheart. I mean this-”

I reached over to lightly grasp Eddie’s hand, intertwining our fingers together with a gentle squeeze. My lips parted into a genuine smile as I looked into my favorite brown eyes.

“Eddie, I know that must have seemed simple to you, but it meant the world to me. You didn’t just do what you thought I would like, you did what you knew I would love. You made it special for me. I just wanted to do the same for you.”

Eddie brought my hand up towards his mouth, pressing a soft kiss to each of my knuckles. Every action, every word, only made me fall even harder for him. The flame was dancing in his eyes as he looked at me, and as he shook his head slowly, the grin on his lips continued to grow until it encompassed his entire mouth.

“I don’t know what I did to deserve you, angel. But I swear on Ozzy, I’ll keep making sure I’m worthy of you until the day I die.”

Squeezing his large hand gently in return, I giggled at Eddie’s words and pushed his plate towards him. I assumed he liked it because he went back for seconds, and helped himself to about five cookies. I was nearly in tears from laughter throughout our dinner conversation and eventually had to ban Eddie from the cookies for the rest of the night.

“But that’s not fair! You can’t just give me something delicious and then rip it away that’s..that’s just..evil!”

“You can take some home, Eddie. Quit being dramatic.”

“Now why would you ask me to do something I’m not capable of? God, you have ruined me. I can never eat normal pasta or cookies again. Seriously, those were the best fucking things I have ever had in my life.”

“Swear on Ozzy?”

“I swear, on the Prince of Darkness himself.”

As we migrated to the living room, I told Eddie I wouldn’t make him suffer through Sixteen Candles and that he could put on his movie. I had hardly been paying attention though. I was too consumed with my thoughts of Eddie, and what had happened between us the last time we were on this couch. I found him far more captivating than the movie. I studied his side profile, my eyes trailing along his sharp jawline and down the expanse of his long neck. I wanted to kiss him there like he had kissed me. 

He was wearing his usual Hellfire club shirt and while I normally loved it, at the moment it was covering entirely too much of him. I realized then that I had never seen Eddie naked. Not like he had seen me. I had no idea what was under that shirt, or how many other tattoos lingered on his skin. Eddie’s legs were spread wide as he sat on the couch, creating a space in between his thighs that I was aching to fill. It had been almost a week since that night and the most Eddie had done was kiss me. I craved more.

“Eddie?”

“Hm?”

“Can you teach me how to suck you off?”

My question clearly caught Eddie off guard, sending him into a violent coughing fit as he seemed to choke on his own spit. He pounded his fist against his chest as he tried to get his breathing back to normal.

“Jesus fucking Christ, Y/N!”

Eddie stared at me incredulously with his jaw nearly on the floor, palm still clutching at his chest as his eyes grew to the size of saucers. I gave him my most innocent look, batting my lashes for effect.

“What?”

“You..you can’t just..you just..fuck.”

Eddie threw his head back against the couch, dragging his large hands down his face. I whined softly as I moved to sit on his lap, wrapping my arms around his neck.

“I don’t wanna watch the movie anymore. I want you. And you said to tell you when I was ready for things.”

“Yeah but..Christ sweetheart you gotta give a guy some kind of warning. You keep walking around saying shit like that out of the blue, you’re gonna send me into fucking cardiac arrest one of these days.”

I giggled softly and tried to bite back my smirk, brushing my nose lightly against Eddie’s as I pressed a chaste kiss to his lips.

“M’sorry.”

Tilting his head to the side, Eddie narrowed his eyes as his large hands moved to grab onto my hips tightly.

“No you’re not, you little minx. You enjoy getting me all riled up, don’t you?”

“Well, it is only fair. You were the one doing all the teasing when I was tutoring you. Now, it’s my turn.”

“Oh, so I’m the tutor now?”

“You are the expert in this field, so, yes.”

There was a sense of shyness that suddenly overcame me, and I did my best to give Eddie a timid smile. I knew he was experienced. I knew there had been other girls. The thought made me somewhat nauseous, thinking about him like that. I didn’t want to know how many had come before me. I didn’t want to know if they were prettier, or more his type, or knew what they were doing when it came to sex unlike me. All I wanted to know was that he wanted me, and only me. 

A frown coated Eddie’s mouth as he sensed my falter in confidence, cradling my cheek in one of his large hands. His thumb lightly brushed against my cheekbone.

“Hey, what’s going on in that pretty little head of yours? You know we don’t have to do anything right?”

“I..I know. I just..don’t want to be a disappointment.”

“How could you ever be a disappointment?”

“I know you’ve been with other girls, Eddie. I’m not naive. And I’m sure they were far more experienced than me, and probably more what you usually go for. I just..I like you, so much. And I..I guess I’m just afraid that I’ll suck at all this and be terrible.”

“Baby, look at me. First of all, there is no way I will ever be disappointed by you. I don’t know if you forgot, but I literally came in my fucking pants from pleasuring you. You didn’t even fucking touch me, and I was a goner. Just watching you, hearing the sounds you made, knowing that I was making you feel that good, that was better than sex to me. And if you decide that I’m the lucky one worthy of being between those amazing thighs, I’m sure it will be better than my wildest, wettest dreams. I just want you, angel. Exactly as you are.”

“So you’ll take me to my bedroom and show me how to make you feel good too?”

“If that’s what you want, m’lady.”

Eddie was quickly sidetracked by surveying my decor the second we stepped foot inside my bedroom. I blushed as I took his hand, tugging him towards my bed.

“Don’t think we’re not going to discuss how fucking cute your bedroom is later because this is exactly what I thought it would be like.”

“You thought about what my bedroom would look like?”

“Well yeah, I always wondered. I figured you’d have your own little library in here, it would be neat and tidy, a window I could sneak through.”

With a wiggle of his brows, he plopped down onto the bed beside me, rubbing his large palm over my thigh reassuringly.

“Well, there’s no tree for you to climb since it’s a one story. I hope that doesn’t ruin the fantasy.”

“Oh baby, you’re the fantasy.” 

I could feel anxiety starting to bubble inside of me. I knew I had no reason to be nervous. I knew Eddie wouldn’t make fun of me for not knowing something. I knew he would be patient and understanding. But I always felt uneasy when it came to new things. I always wanted to be prepared and excel at everything, even blowjobs. 

I leaned forward and captured Eddie’s lips in a deep kiss before I could let my mind get carried away. I melted into his touch instantly, reveling in the feeling of his large hands grabbing onto my waist. Without hesitation, I climbed onto his lap and began to detour my lips along his jawline, slowly trailing them down his long neck. I felt him shudder beneath me, a soft groan falling from his lips. That one little noise spurred something in me, and I was soon scrambling down his body to settle in between his knees. I needed to hear more of that. I wanted more. 

“Easy sweetheart..no need to rush.”

“M’just excited.”

My fingers worked at tugging his belt from the confines of the handcuff buckle, popping the button on his jeans and slowly pulling at the zipper. There was already a prominent bulge staring me straight in the face from where I sat. Taking a deep breath, I gripped at his jeans and tugged them about halfway down Eddie’s thighs as he lifted his hips slightly. Lifting my head to look up at him, I pressed my palm lightly along the outline of his dick through his briefs. 

Eddie sucked in a breath through his teeth, gripping tightly onto the covers at the edge of my bed. His tongue darted out to quickly wet his lips. I softly motioned towards his briefs and whispered.

“Can I?”

“Fuck..yeah. Go ahead.”

I sat up straight on my knees, brushing my hair over my shoulders and took a deep breath to steady my nerves. You can do this. As I released Eddie from the confines of his briefs, a sharp gasp escaped my mouth and I looked up at him with wide eyes. I had never seen a boy naked before, but I knew for a fact Eddie wasn’t average. He was big. I tried my best to hide my panic, swallowing thickly as I stared at it.

“Um..what..what do I-um do?”

“Start slow, angel. Here, give me your hand.”

Eddie took one of my small hands in his, lightly wrapping my first around his length. I felt his thighs tense beside me, letting out a shaky breath as he gently grabbed my wrist and instructed me to move it up and downwards at a pace I was comfortable with.

“Just..like that. Take your time, baby.”

As he leaned back slightly on the bed, Eddie stared down at me intently. I continued to move my fist up and down like he had shown me. He felt heavy in the palm of my hand, and smooth like velvet. I curiously swiped my thumb over the leak coming out of the tip at the top. Eddie hissed and his hips stuttered which caused me to stop.

“I’m sorry..what did I do?”

“No no no, fuck. Keep going. S’good, baby. Just..tip is sensitive. Remember how it felt when I touched your clit? It’s like that.”

I blushed profusely at the memory and pressed my thighs together, feeling that familiar flame being ignited in my lower belly. Oh. With this newfound information, I began to work his length in my hand again, paying close attention to what actions earned those sinful noises. I could feel Eddie slightly moving his hips along with my hand. I felt a rush of wetness between my thighs knowing how good I was making him feel. It made me feel powerful. Feeling emboldened, I leaned forward and wrapped my lips around his tip. Eddie let out a strangled moan of surprise, throwing his head back and screwing his eyes shut. 

“Oh fuck! Jesus baby..t-that’s good. That’s real fucking good. Doing so fucking well for me.”

Those words of praise only encouraged me to take it further. Shuffling closer on my knees, I leaned in more to take him further into my mouth at a better angle. I swirled my tongue around his tip languidly before easing him deeper into my mouth. I felt his large hand rest against the back of my head, moving along with the rhythm I had set. 

The slick growing between my thighs was almost getting unbearable. I felt my entire body shift back and forth as I bobbed my head, my fist working over the rest of Eddie’s dick that wouldn’t fit. He was falling apart above me and I fucking loved it. A mix of swears, moans, and my name spilling off his tongue. I savored it as I gripped onto his bare thigh, lightly digging my nails into the skin.

“Fucking hell, sweetheart..you sure you’ve never done this before? So fucking good.”

I don’t think I had ever been this turned on in my entire fucking life. My pussy was aching for attention. Eddie’s sweet moans wrapped around my thighs like silk, and I found myself sneaking my hand into my panties to give my throbbing clit some relief. I moaned around his dick at the contact, but I had to focus. This was about Eddie. 

“Holy shit..are you touching yourself? Jesus fucking Christ that’s so hot. Shit baby..you keep doing that..m’not gonna last.”

I could tell Eddie was close by the way he was thrusting into my mouth, but I also knew he was holding back. His fingers were lightly weaved through my hair, tugging ever so softly when I did something he liked. I let my mind wander to what he would be like if he really let go. I knew he was only holding back with me because I was inexperienced. I suddenly felt the urge to know what Eddie was like when he completely lost control.

Bracing my palms on his thighs, I relaxed my jaw as much as I could, taking his entire length into my mouth until I felt his tip hit the back of my throat. This earned me a harder tug of my hair, and I whined at the feeling. I liked it. I wasn’t sure if I was discovering what I liked, or just what I liked with Eddie, which so far seemed to be everything. Eddie was gripping onto the back of my head as I brushed my nose lightly against his pubic hair. I felt tears forming in the corner of my eyes and my throat burned, but I wouldn’t move.

“Shit shit shit. Fuck I’m gonna come..if you don’t want it down your throat tell me now because I can’t fucking hold it.”

I wanted everything Eddie had to give. Looking up at him through my lashes, I trailed one of my hands down his inner thigh, cupping his balls in my hand and gave them a soft squeeze. That seemed to push Eddie over the edge. Eddie’s eyes never left mine. I liked that he was watching me. I liked the way he was looking at me. Before I could register what was happening, I felt spurts of warmth coat the back of my throat and I instinctively swallowed. Eddie continued to thrust into my mouth as he worked himself through his orgasm and I let him use me as he pleased.

“Fuuuuuuck! Fuck, fuck, fuck!”

Pulling off of him with a pop, I gasped as I tried to catch my breath. There was a bittersweet, tangy taste on my tongue. Something new and unfamiliar. Something so Eddie. I wiped at the saliva that had collected on my chin with the back of my hand. Eddie had fallen back against my bed, his chest was heaving frantically and there was a blissful, fucked out look on his face. I didn’t mean to giggle, but I had never seen Eddie like this. His eyes shot open, and he leaned up on his elbows to stare down at me with lust blown eyes. He cocked his head to the side, eyeing me suspiciously.

“Did you..swallow?”

“Um..yeah. Was it okay?”

“Okay? I just came harder than I ever have in my fucking life, and you’re asking if it was okay?”

“I..don’t know?”

“You’ve never done that before? You just happen to be a fucking pro at it? And knew how to deepthroat?”

“I just..did what I thought you would like..and..what felt good.”

Biting down on my bottom lip nervously, I fiddled with my fingers in my lap. My jaw and throat felt kind of sore, but I didn’t mind. I’d do it all over again a thousand times to hear Eddie moan my name. Eddie wrapped his large hand around the back of my neck and gently pulled me to my feet.

“Come here.”

In a flash, my dress was being pulled over my head and tossed onto the floor. He made quick work of removing my bra, discarding it amongst the forgotten pile. As he went to push me down onto my back, I pushed back at his chest.

“Wait!”

“What? What’s wrong?”

Eddie’s entire demeanor changed as his eyes scanned over me, instantly retracting his hands from my body. I believed Eddie the first time he told me he would stop the second I said so, but it still warmed my heart nonetheless seeing him keep that promise. I sat up slowly, smiling as I grabbed a small fistful of his shirt and shook my head.

“Nothing, I just..wanna see you too.”

“Sweetheart, my entire dick is still out.”

“Eddie! You know what I mean. You’re..wearing too many clothes. Isn’t fair.”

“You’re right, baby. S’not fair.”

Eddie’s lips split into a devilish grin. He moved to stand from the bed, grabbing the hem of his shirt and pulling it over his head. God, he was beautiful. My eyes shamelessly traveled over the expanse of his chest, taking note of all the dark ink that was littered across his skin. Eddie wasn’t the biggest guy, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t muscular. He was tone and lean, and I found myself being distracted by the dark patch of hair that traveled from his lower abdomen down to his pelvis. He shoved his briefs and jeans down quickly, stepping out of them before making his way back onto the bed where he settled on his knees before me.

“My turn.”

I whined at his words. I had missed the feeling of his fingers inside of me. I dreamt about them. After being touched by Eddie, I couldn’t get myself off anymore. He had completely ruined me. 

“Please.”

My voice was needy and hoarse, and it only caused the wicked grin on Eddie’s lips to stretch even further. He crawled over me, resting both hands on either side of my head. I couldn’t take it anymore. I was aching for him. I reached up to grab onto his guitar pick necklace, quickly pulling him down to crash our lips together. I could feel him chuckle against my mouth, only providing a moment of relief before he pulled away again.

“Easy, baby. We have all night.”

“But Eddie..”

“Shh. So needy for me, angel. I’ve been neglecting you this week, yeah? Haven’t paid any attention to this pretty little pussy. My poor baby, m’sorry.”

My head rolled to the side as Eddie’s lips brushed along the underside of my jaw, his tongue drawing a line down to the juncture of my neck where he lightly nipped and sucked at the sensitive skin. I could feel his fingertips ghosting down my stomach, stopping right above the waistband of my panties.

“Wasn’t that I didn’t want to, baby. Thought about it all fucking week. How pretty you sounded, how beautiful you looked, the way you said my name. Everytime I did, got my cock rock fucking hard. Had to fuck my hand when I thought about how you looked when you came. Prettiest fucking thing I’ve ever seen.”

I didn’t think it was even possible for me to get even wetter, but I’m pretty sure there was a wet patch forming on my sheets from Eddie’s honey-dripped words. I raised my hips up slightly, trying to signal to Eddie what I wanted. I whined in frustration when he pulled his hand away.

“Eddie..stop teasing, please. I can’t take it. Please just touch me. Please.”

“So polite, angel. But I’ve got something better in mind for you. Still have a lot to make up for, yeah? Do you trust me?”

Swallowing thickly, I looked down at Eddie who had taken his place between my thighs. His plump lips were slightly parted, eyes trained on me as he waited for an answer. Nibbling at my bottom lip, I nodded my head slowly.

“Words, sweetheart. I need words.”

“Yes..yes Eddie, I trust you.”

“Good girl. Lay back for me. You got to taste, now it’s my turn.”

My eyes immediately widened at his words. He wasted no time in hooking his thumbs into my panties and tugging them down my thighs, tossing them on top of his pile of clothes.

“I never got my other pair back.”

“And you never fucking will. You’re lucky if I let you keep these.”

Eddie grinned triumphantly, dipping his head down to leave a heated trail of kisses from the space between my breasts down to my lower stomach. Scooting further down the bed, he settled on his stomach as he grabbed my thighs in both of his large hands and pushed them as far apart as they would go. I gasped when I felt a rush of cool air against my soaking cunt. Eddie’s mouth dropped open as he stared at me, a low groan sounding from deep within his chest.

“Jesus baby..you’re fucking soaked. This all from having my dick in your mouth? My sweet little innocent Y/N isn’t so innocent after all. God..you liked it this much?”

I wasn’t able to form words. I was so turned on and my mind felt hazy. All I could do was nod furiously and moan in response, hoping that was enough to satisfy Eddie. His thumb lightly brushed over my clit and my hips jerked as I cried out. 

“Poor baby, so sensitive. You’ve been such a good girl for me..and so patient waiting your turn. You deserve to come, don’t you?”

“Please, Eddie.”

“Since you asked so nicely, angel. God, you have such a pretty pussy. Didn’t get to have a proper look last time. Prettiest pussy I’ve ever fucking seen. Bet it tastes like fucking honey.”

I didn’t get a chance to respond before Eddie dove face first in between my thighs and started his assault on my clit with his tongue. My stomach clenched and I gripped onto the sheets beside me so hard until my knuckles turned white. Eddie flattened his tongue against me, alternating between swirling his tongue in quick circles around my sensitive nub and flicking his tongue over it repeatedly. I thought I loved his fingers, but fuck..his mouth was something else. 

It was warm and soft, and he absolutely knew what the fuck he was doing. That flame inside me had grown into a roaring wildfire and I didn’t know how long I had until I exploded. My head was spinning, the only thing grounding me to reality was the feeling of Eddie’s head between my thighs. I couldn’t help myself as I reached down to grab a small fistful of his messy curls.

Eddie easily slipped two fingers inside of me without warning, causing me to cry out even louder. I really hoped it wasn’t loud enough for the neighbors to hear but I also didn’t fucking care. The sounds coming from Eddie’s mouth on my pussy were downright pornographic. I could hear him slurping and sucking on my clit, his fingers pistoning inside of me with ease from how wet I was. I couldn’t stay still. My hips seemed to have a mind of their own as they bucked up against Eddie’s face. I didn’t even have time to warn him. Fuck, I didn’t have a warning myself. All at once, my release hit me like a ton of bricks. My body convulsed from the intensity of my orgasm and it felt like jolts of electricity were being sent all throughout my extremities. I could hear myself moaning, but I didn’t even know if I was making sense.

I clamped my thighs around Eddie’s hand and nearly cried as I pushed at his chest. I was so fucking sensitive and overstimulated. I could feel the bed dip beside me underneath Eddie’s weight and felt him peppering kisses along my cheeks and forehead. I could just barely hear his voice whispering lowly in my ear.

“Shh, s’alright baby. You’re alright. Just breathe, angel. Did so good for me, yeah? My good girl. I’ve got you, m’right here pretty girl.”

After a few minutes, I was finally able to catch my breath. My head still felt dizzy, but the room had at least stopped spinning. I opened my eyes slowly, blinking a few times before I turned my head to look at Eddie. He was already staring at me with a huge, goofy grin and those adorable dimples. I blushed as I smiled softly.

“Hi.”

“Hi.”

“Thought I lost you there for a second.”

“I think you did.”

A deep, robust laugh sounded from Eddie’s chest and it was infectious. I grinned as I snuggled into his side, sighing happily when I felt his arm wrap around my back. Eddie pressed a light kiss to the top of my head as my fingertips traced the tattoo that was on his chest. 

“Eddie?”

“Hm?”

“You..you make me really happy.”

He gently grasped my chin between his thumb and index finger, tilting my head back so that we could see each other clearly. There was a look in his eyes that I had never seen before, but it made butterflies erupt in my stomach. Eddie leaned in slightly to bump our noses together, pulling back with a content smile on his lips.

“You make me really happy too, angel.”

I had always been the cynical type. When things seemed to be too good to be true, I usually assumed that they were. But I pushed that pessimistic voice to the back of my head when it came to Eddie. I tried to let myself just..be happy. Things were good, really good. And they could only get better..right?

#eddie munson #eddie munson fic #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x fem!reader #stranger things #stranger things fic #jason carver #nancy wheeler #mike wheeler #dustin henderson #lucas sinclair #hellfire club

[venushasvixens]

Chapter 22. Truth and Trust - Life is but a Dream (Spike Spiegel x Reader)

Word Count: 3k 

Warning: angst 

[A/N] so this chapter wasn’t posted onto Tumblr until now (my bad). Enjoy!    

- 

Spike’s side of the bed was empty and cold.

You had recovered pretty well the last couple of weeks, now getting up and walking around on your own. It still ached, but you had managed. Just took some work and determination. Even so, you couldn’t remember one thing during your rest. There was no memory of how you got here. You came back into consciousness in the last few weeks, and it made you wonder.

What did you do during that time besides sleep?

People do crazy stuff when they’re in pain. The situation that pertained you to this thought was Spike. And Jet.

Every morning, you felt a soft kiss on your forehead and the sound of the door closing. Then in the middle of the night, the sound of a door closing, a kiss and the weight of Spike laying beside you. During the day, there was little talk. A communication of tracking bounties and where his location was. But that was it.

Jet was a tad different. He checked on you, asked how you were feeling. But when you asked about your beloved, he would shut the conversation down quickly.

“Out, as usual. Speaking of which, let me do a quick check in with him.” He would reply with a quick smile and a brisk walk out of the living area.

At first, you didn’t mind. In your state, more work had to be put in to keep the Bebop running and the crew alive. But as the days repeated, and the routine continued, you couldn’t help but feel…suspicious.

Of yourself, most of all, but of what you said or did. Spike didn’t take insults to heart that bad, instead having it bounce back with a fist or a witty comeback. Even if you did, you were still going to feel just as bad. If he was angry with you, you would want to know.

“That’s just the way he is, as long as I can remember.” Faye shrugged as you confided in her. “We are busy after all.”

“Yeah. But I can’t help but feel like I did something bad, you know?” You sat in the chair opposite her, watching as she filed her nails meticulously.

“You did get into a fight, that's bad. But not worthy of the silent treatment.” Faye assured you. “I’m sure its all fine and dandy. You’re probably just overthinking the whole thing.”

The footsteps from the kitchen alerted you as you saw Jet ascending the small steps with a mug and donut in hand. “You girls okay this morning?”

“Doing just fine.” Faye mumbled.

“I guess you can say so.” You replied, rubbing your head.

“Everything okay?” Jet questioned. “If you’re hungry, I can grab you a donut, don’t even have to get up-“

“Oh no, I’m okay.” You reluctantly said. “Just a little worried about Spike, that's all. Haven’t seen him at all today. Or much any day for a while.”

“Ah, okay.” Jet nodded slowly, slowly inching away from the living room and up the steps to the hull. “Well! He’s probably just fine. Matter of fact, I’ll call him up as soon as I’m up there, I’d have a moment or two. Scout’s honor, kid.”

You narrowed your eyes. Avoiding the conversation was the last nail in the coffin. “Sounds amazing. Thanks.”

You looked back at Faye, with a questioning glint in your eyes. She shared the same expression, pouting her lips as she delved into the same skeptical energy as you.

The rotating hull was still hard on your legs, giving no mercy. Wincing as you climb from the hull through the entrance to the bridge, your feet planted one by one on the other side. Letting the door shut behind you, you heard the shuffling of Jet’s footsteps as he investigated the noise.

“It’s just me.” You called out, clanking down one step at a time slowly. “Checking in thats all.”

You hissed as the final step put some pain in your leg. Jet turned his head to watch you. “Careful now, can’t be falling apart on me.”

“Too little, too late.” You gave a faint smile as you leaned against the console. Deep in his work, you watched as Jet clinked and snapped in whatever he was doing. Something to keep him busy, always. “How was it out there?”

He took a deep intake of breath. “I'd say the same as usual. Didn’t see any bad guys, sadly.”

“Ah.” You replied. “Give me another week and we won't have to worry about that.”

He nodded his head, still focused on the console board. “Sounds mighty fine.”

As usual, what dissipated your physical pain for the briefest of moments was the burning question at the back of your mind. “You’ve seen Spike today, right?”

“Yeah. Before sunrise.” Jet mumbled out, counting under his breath. You waited until he was finished so as to not interrupt him. In the midst of your suspicions, you still had respect.

“Did he say what he went out for?” You asked.

Jet shrugged. “Beats me.”

In the quietness of the bridge, you took a small stroll to the giant windows. Beaming in was warm light, tingling your exposed arms. A sense of calm before what you were going to ask.

“It's odd.”

“What’s that?” Jet replied nonchalantly, still focused.

“You and Spike are thick as thieves and he didn't tell you where he was going.” You stated, crossing your arms. “It’s suspicious.”

“Well, he does run off now and then. Always does when something is bothering him, or he’s feeling cooped up in this metal cage of ours.”

You nodded. Turning around, you looked down at Jet, who was just staring at the console board. No hand movements, no papers or screens open to work on. Even with his head down, you could see his gaze glaring right back at you.

“Okay.” You finally said. “I won’t keep you from your work. So sorry.”

You walked the opposite side of the console board, taking slow steps. It surely was going to be a pain trying to get out of here.

He nodded. “Be careful getting out- hey!”

The console board powered down, fading into a blank slate. Leaning yourself against the table, you watched a Jet grumbled and cursed under his breath.

“What do you know?”

Jet stood up straight. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

You shook your head. “I’m not happy with that answer.”

You both were at a standoff, watching each other carefully. You could see in Jet’s eyes that he was aware. Very aware of your past. It wouldn’t have been so bad if you initially told them. But now that the whole crew was possibly being tracked down at this moment, this was going to be a problem.

And yet, he still didn’t say anything.

“I lied.” You breathed. “But how was I supposed to know that I was tracked? If I knew any sooner, I wouldn’t be here right now.”

“You did.” His shoulders dropped. The disappointment that echoed within you stung. This was the last thing you ever wanted to do to a person that gave you shelter when you needed it most. “But syndicate children make great sharpshooters.”

“He’s disappointed in me, isn’t he? That’s why I haven’t seen him at all.” You confirmed. “Doesn’t want to look at my face.”

“Yes he is. I can’t speak for Spike, but he needs…” Jet trailed off, sighing. “I don’t know what he needs.”

Walking right by Jet, you sat in a chair, contemplating your actions. “He told me all about it, the syndicate he was a part of. All of the stuff he did, the things he saw. I did the same.”

“But you didn’t tell him flat out.” Jet replied, raising his eyebrows. “You let it sit there all this time until something happened.”

“I did.”

You completely fucked up. You deserved to be called out on your shit, your deception to those who trusted you most. You didn't have the courage to even say anything back to Jet, and it was going to feel hard to after this. How badly you wanted to disappear. Or start over fresh, tell them flat out so that you could have avoided this situation.

Jet looked at you, and then at the windows of the bridge. “Hey.”

You glanced up at him with teary eyes.

“You see that spot over there?” He pointed to the main window, a bench planted across for a view. “Over there was the first time I had learned anything from him. Of Spike’s past. Before, he never said anything, not a damn word. Then when our life was turning to shit, it just came out.”

You saw as Jet remimence over the memory, his face deep into the thought. “In that moment, (Y/n), I knew. Your past should’ve defined you, but guided you. You are who you are now. You can’t allow yourself to keep living this lie, or it’ll get you killed.”

The shot that hit you sends waves of emotional calm over yourself. It was a different perspective of what you felt just minutes before. “And I think that's what's bothering him too. To see you go through the same thing he did, it's hurting him bad.”

Ah man, another dagger in the heart.

“If I need to go, tell me.”

“I’m not going to kick you out, kid. That’s the last thing I want to do.” Crossing his arms, Jet’s face softened. “Now I knew this conversation was going to happen sooner than later, and yes it does make me upset. But I am not that kind of person to do that. Now what I want you to do is to talk to him, hear him out.”

“You’re right.” You sniffled. “Even with a hit on your head you still want me here?”

He shrugged. “Had worse on me. For all we know, they may have given up on getting back at us.”

Shaking your head, you bit down on your lip. There was no way in heaven or hell that Jo was going to give up so easily on you. When she wanted to finish a job, it was going to get done regardless. This was going to get so much worse.

“Jo doesn’t give up. Without a doubt in my mind she is going to hunt us until the day she dies.” You felt defeated again. Everything that was together not even two weeks ago was now falling apart. Dumb to think that you can have some clarity in your life for once, you thought. “I really don’t know what to do.”

“(Y/n), you know this person inside and out. You’ve looked into her mind, you've done her deeds. So follow that path and get that brain of yours working.” Jet popped on you. In a sense, this is exactly what you needed. A shove back into reality instead of giving up. Your hole of despair had to be put on hold until you were going to figure out what to do. “To find the solution, you have to look at the pattern.”

You nodded. “I needed that, thank you. But what am I looking for?”

“What you seek. What you've always been looking for.” Jet turned the console back on and refreshed the holo computer. “Use this, it's faster than what I’m using.”

Taking this new opportunity in your hands, you sat in the chair and began searching away. You opened the file that contained everything that Jet had accumulated over the time you were knocked out.

“What did you think of my shades?” You pulled up a picture of yourself.

“Think they look rather cool, real cool.” Jet flashed you a smile, reassuring you of your place on the Bebop, and a bonafide hunter in the system.

- 

Spike set the Swordfish on cruise, debating on if he should bring himself back to the Bebop or not. His fingers hung loosely around the handlebars, and flexed them lightly. He still hadn’t made up his mind. He did forgive you, silently. And in his mind, not out loud or to your face.

Why was this so hard?

He wasn’t good at apologies or sentimental thoughts that were spoken. It was a “sorry” or “my bad”, and they just accepted it as it was. That was the most people could get out of him. But when it comes to forgiveness? It was an easy option to move on and forget it all happened. This was different.

You both weren’t that different, either. You were both songs of the same tune. Was it because he thought he knew everything about you, and now he didn’t, or that you lied until it was too late..? Christ, he didn’t know.

He sighed in frustration as he circled the airspace once again. As usual when he went missing, an occasional transmission from Jet would come every so often. Even if he was mad at Spike, he still had to make sure the angry bastard was still okay. Common courtesy, no matter what.

The last transmission was in the afternoon, a little after two o’clock. But the sky had dimmed well into evening, and there was the faintest bit of light. Nothing from Jet. Or from you.

No transmission from you.

That puts a greater stress on the situation. Did you know that he knows? If he were to return to the Bebop, what would he be coming back to, he thought. Hoping for a calm approach was out of the question had it involved Faye, so this could be different. Tense, but speaking bluntly and calmly. He just want reassurance, quiet, peaceful-

Transmission incoming. The tag read from you.

Spike’s stomach leaped. The beeps grew loud as he contemplated accepting the message. His hand hovered over, quietly debating. Finally, he pressed the button to accept.

“Yo.” It was all he could say.

You cleared your throat. “Hi.” It wasn't hard to hear the emotion you tried to hide in your voice. “Where are you?”

“Umm, I’m out. Somewhere close, though.”

The pause was great.

“Can we talk when you get back?”

“Yes.” Spike answered immediately.  

“Yes?” You replied to Spike, in a way relieved that he was wanting to talk to you. It had gnawed at you for the entire day, and you were so ready to get it over with.

“Uh-huh.” He hummed, hearing the roar of his engine as it accelerated back to the ship. “See you soon.”

You cut the transmission before you could say “I love you.” Didn’t seem appropriate right now, even though you wanted to say it so bad. It hurt to not say it to Spike.

After your confession to Jet, you had been on and off crying thinking of all that had transpired. Your fears came back to one hurtful possibility, and that was separating yourself from Spike.

The tears that poured from your eyes could’ve made oceans and lakes. As best he could, Jet passed you tissues any time a sniffle or hiccup of sadness came from your direction. How long that Spike had known, and was letting it fester inside. Reminding yourself of being responsible for it, it only made you cry even more. But it was your mind that was made up that hurt the most. The many plans you had made when Jet wasn’t looking.

What made this all worse was the research you did make.

Locations, names. All were at your fingertips. Something had to be done about it. But in your busy head, there wasn’t a clear answer as to what to do.

He was going to see you soon. He was going to be here. In front of you, to talk about it. Now it was time to wait a bit more, until the judgment was to come.

- 

As Spike closed the door to the rotating hull, Jet was waiting opposite.

“I have someone waiting on me.” Spike said as he walked off.  

“Sure, but I need to tell you something before you do.” Jet replied, still planted where he was. Stopping, Spike listened.

“I had never seen a girl so in love with someone before until I talked to (Y/N) today. Never experienced it, and probably never will. There’s a lot to lose. Remember that.”

Spike couldn’t walk off fast enough. Even when he was lied to, how fast he wanted to be in your arms and melted into you. But he couldn’t. There was a truth that needed to be shared.

Grabbing the handle of the door to the bridge, he pushed it to the side and stepped in. The illumination from the console lit the bridge, with no other light source. Walking slowly, he gazed longingly at the outline of you looking out into the city. Your soft hair, the curve of your shoulders and hips. He could see you.

His heel clicked against the metal as he took another step. You turned quickly, worried eyes resting on the source of the noise. Finally, he stopped in front of you, hands in pockets.

“I..I need to explain myself.”  

Spike eyes honed in on your down appearance. It wasn’t hard to notice your puffy eyes or red nose. “Okay.”

“I wasn’t honest with you. I lied about who I really was, and my life.” You began. “There shouldn’t be an excuse at all. And..and I think I did it to get away from it all, that way of living. Had I known it would’ve gotten to this point, I would have never..”

You threw your arms around, gesturing to the ship as a whole.

“Every second I spent there was a what if. What if I was going to die today, what if I lost my place with Jo. It was going to kill me if I didn’t leave.” You muttered, wincing at the memory. “Before she could do anything, I left.”

The image of your daring escape from the clutches of Red Jack’s flooded back into your mind. Early morning, with a small wallet full of credits and the clothes on your back. The breeze on your face as your feet carried you to the nearest transport station. An alias given, and finally, out of Yun and away from Mars.

While floating with many other souls in space, you remembered your tears of relief. Absolutely free. You could breathe again without question of loyalty or argument.

Just when you were out, you were pulled right back in.

“Dammit, I should’ve told you. I should’ve told you sooner.” You repeat yourself, holding your body closely. “I’m so sorry, Spike. I truly am.”

At this point, you couldn’t hold in your tears at all. How pathetic you looked, blubbering mess begging for forgiveness. You were beyond terrified of losing his love, losing him. You didn’t want the one good thing that has ever happened to you in your life to leave you.

Through dim lights, you could feel his eyes gaze into you. “S-say something, please.” You begged. Please, I can’t stand this silence.

“You’re right. You should’ve told me from the beginning.” Spike began. “But its…understandable.”

You nodded softly.

“You’re the only person I ever really told about who I was before this.” He said lowly. “Why couldn’t you just tell me?”

“A-at the time, I was living low. Or so I thought.” You mumbled. “I really thought they had forgotten all about me. Who they were looking for didn’t exist anymore. She was just a thing of the past.”

“And they still found her.”

You sat defeated in the double seat at the head of the bridge. “I didn’t try hard enough to disappear.”

Spike sat next to you, keeping a short distance. “You didn’t. But how else was I supposed to see you?”

You huffed softly. It surprised you. In a moment where you thought you were about to lose everything, how simple a sentence could wipe that feeling away.

“If I put a different spotlight on, it would be easier.” You replied back. “Could’ve revealed who I really was sooner.”

“But this is you.”

You glanced at Spike, shaking your head. “No. Its not.”

How you looked in the mirror at yourself after a “situation” that had to be dealt with with Red Jack’s. Many times this would happen. Blood splattered on your face, gun still hot in your holster. Eyes blank as you stared at yourself. The face of an enforcer, a killer. Judge and executioner.

That who you felt you really were.

You felt two soft hands gently nudge your body. Turning you to face him, Spike’s hold on you was still. You didn’t know what was about to happen. You didn’t want to know what he was going to say. It was going to hurt either way.

“Whoever you think is the real you, it isn’t. People change, (Y/N). Sometimes for the better. You took the bigger step to leave the life you thought you knew. It’s hard to do. Most can’t come to terms with the thought.” He stated, voice low. “But you did.”

You nodded.

“I wasn’t honest either with Jet. I wanted to keep what I was a secret, out of sight and mind.” He confessed. “I think that’s why I’m not as upset. It's because I’ve been down the road and I did the same thing. Hypocritical of me to judge.”

“Its going to be hard to forgive me.”

Spike shook his head. “I already have forgiven you. But I need you to listen to me.” His hands trailed from your arms to the frame of your face, allowing you to see him. “I need to trust you. You need to trust me. If we are going to make this work, it has to be that way. No more secrets or lies.”

“No more secrets or lies.” You repeated back, taking Spike’s words to your head, cementing it deep to never forget. “I really don’t want to lose you.”

“You never will.” He replied, kissing your forehead softly. His lips lingered, sending another bout of relief throughout your body. “I love you.”

“I love you more.” You sighed, placing your hand over his.

You both sat on the bridge for an eternity. Silent, except the deep thumps of your hearts beating and a shuffle as you made yourself comfortable in Spike’s arms. There was nothing spoken, but it wasn’t awkward. Nothing needed to be said. Spike held on as tightly as you did.

Your head rested on Spike’s chest. The future brought uncertainty. It still plagued your mind. In the moment where you should’ve felt safe, a pang of dread was in your side. You had to protect your new home somehow. Your home was Spike, but it wasn’t only him.

It was Jet.

It was Faye.

It was Ein and Ed.

You looked up at Spike, not surprised to see the man you loved deep in thought. Was he thinking the same thing as you? Your plan that you put on the backburner was set aflame once more. This home you have, the one you prayed and begged for, was going to be fought until the end. Seeing it, you would give anything to keep it safe.

“Spike?”

“Hmm?”

“If something happens, are you with me? By my side?”

You felt the intake of breath from Spike.

“Until the very end. I’ll always be with you.”

#fanfiction #cowboy bebop #Faye Valentine #90sanime #jet black #radio free mars #spike spiegel #see you space cowboy #spike #spike spiegel x reader #spike spiegel headcanons #spike spiegel requests #spike spiegel x you #spike spiegel x y/n #toonami #whatever happens happens #you’re going to carry that weight #radical ed #radical Edward #ein #ein the dog

[olympianroyals]

Nico: Have you spoken to Sven lately?

Savannah scoffs: No, have you?

Nico: Yeah, he and Imani broke up again.

[Savannah hums disinterested]

Nico continues: He says it's for good this time, apparently they have been fighting a lot lately, and he felt that all that toxicity in the house wouldn't be good for the baby, and since she's making it seem like he is the problem, he rather just leave the situation altogether.

Savannah raises an eyebrow: Is that so? That's.... interesting. Her due date is like 2 months away, isn't it? He left her all by herself?

Nico:... It seemed like he didn't have a choice from the what he was saying to me. Im sure he's still gonna be there for them and help out when he can with the baby if she lets him.

Savannah hums out loud again: It sounds like you guys had such an engaging talk.

Nico hesitates: Yeah but since he ended up leaving the house, he was real worried about needing a place to stay over the weekend.... So I...I figured it was okay for him to-

Savannah cuts her off: Okay for him to do what?

Nico continues: -Stay in the loft over the weekend.

Savannah: Are you fucking kidding me?

Nico: I figured since you didn’t say anything about it then maybe you were okay…with it.

Savannah: Or maybe since I hadn’t said anything about it then maybe I hadn’t known about it. Why did you let this man into my shop Nicole?

Nico: It’s our shop to Sav! Daddy left it to all three of us when he passed away, it's not only just yours.

Savannah: Are you serious?

Nico: It's not fair Savannah how you shut him out of Papa's shop! and…and whether you like it or not ‘that man’ is still our brother and this is still his shop too and he needed a place to stay! We have a loft that wasn’t being used at the moment and he told me-

Savannah cuts her off: I thought we were on the same page when it comes to this shop Nicole. Sven is not allowed to be near it in any capasity.

Nico: He needed a place to stay Savannah!

Savannah: Where he needs to stay is no longer my fucking concern Nicole!

Nico: But

Savannah: Give me your shop keys, I can no longer trust you with them.

Nico: Savannah no!

Savannah: You asked me if I had spoken to Sven lately, I hadn’t needed to because Imani had already told me everything that happened. She came straight over after he left, crying her little heart out.

Savannah continues: Did he tell you why they had been fighting in the first place? You know how much these two fight on the daily, so why now does he care about the 'toxicity' in the house affecting the baby when that toxicity has been there from the moment it was conceived? Why all of a sudden now it's a problem? Did you think to ask?

[Nico tellingly says nothing]

Savannah sighed tiredly: The fact that you just believe whatever that man tells you without question is ridiculous. I'm not gonna sit here and air out all of their dirty laundry but what he told you was indeed not the truth. The fact that you let him play you and by extension me is crazy.

[Nico looks away, Upset]

Savannah continues: I won't risk you or this shop over this man Nicole. He has proven time and time again that he doesn't give a fuck about us or this shop, or even about his own family. If you two wanna band together and see me as the villain of this story instead of the hero keeping Dads fucking dream alive then, that's all fine and dandy but ill be good and damn well dead before I let Sven mess you or this shop up in any way.

Nico whispers: He's our brother Sav... he's our family. It's only us three now, were all we have that's left.

Savannah laughs harshly: Yeah? Well, could you tell homeboy that since clearly he doesn't get the memo?

Where It All Begins // Beginning-Next

Olympian Royals // Beginning-Recent

#sims 4 storytelling #ts4 storytelling #sims 4 royal legacy #ts4 royal legacy #sims 4 royal story #ts4 royal story #sims 4 royal family #ts4 royal family #sims 4 black royals #ts4 black royals #the olympian royals #WIABS series

[perfectpaperbluebirds]

Sicktember #15

Prompt: Sick in an Inconvenient Place

Fandom/OCs: Navy Man OCs (Michael Ingram)

Words: 1330

Sicknario inspo: Standing, groaning, clutching head from this post and "that's quite the fever" from this post.

Author’s comments/background: Poor Michael. I feel like I pick on him a lot, giving him awful illnesses and putting him in embarrassing situations only for him to pass out all the time. But he's just so gentle and whumpable lol. One of these days I'll give him a partner. Maybe. Read his first story here. 

~~~***~~~

He had always dreamed of visiting the tropics, and at last his dream was coming true. The year was 1910, and the United States Navy had called select officers to convene and inspect their newest base in the tropical paradise of Hawaii, and Captain Michael Ingram was one among them. It seemed too good to be true. Yet when the ship had docked, he had been welcomed with open arms. His senses were boggled by the beauty surrounding him on the tiny, mystical island. It seemed he had left earth entirely and somehow landed in heaven. 

The days leading up to them making port had not been kind to the naval captain, however, and a nasty virus they had picked up somewhere was ravaging his crew. The ship's med bay was overrun with men complaining of "brain splitting" headaches, light sensitivity, vertigo, and a raging fever that had them either pouring sweat or shaking with chills by turns. The scariest part of the illness, though, was its sudden onset. A man could be fine and dandy at lunch and bedridden by supper, and there seemed to be few to no warning symptoms until the headache hit at full force. 

Everyone that has contracted it had recovered thus far, though there were a few close calls, but convalescence was unusually slow, leaving the men weak and exhausted for weeks, hardly able to do even half duty. Worry was gnawing at the captain, and he hoped some days in the tropical air would help clear his ship of whatever invisible, unwanted cargo it was carrying. 

The first day was the tour and inspection of the base which went as expected, though it did leave Captain Ingram wishing for a permanent posting here. A strategy and debriefing meeting was planned for the second day. That morning, too, went as usual. If the captain was a bit weaker, more sleepy, more achy during the meetings, he never noticed it, as he would tell the medical people later. It seemed at first to be a normal day at port. 

By the mid-morning, though, he began to feel something amiss. It seemed as if a lead weight was settling over his body and he had the overwhelming urge to lie down and sleep, which of course was impossible, since the meeting was planned for all day. Then a strange sensation started behind his eyes, a tightness and weakness, blossoming into a dandy of a headache in no time that left him squinting at the daylight. Soon he was nauseous and shaky, since any movement left him spinny-headed, and the light had him feeling almost blinded. A cold sweat that had nothing to do with the temperature began to work its way down his collar, and that's when he knew he was in trouble.

Yet all of this he kept to himself. What else could he do? Excuse himself from a meeting he was already attending, after reporting to his superiors that he was in good health only hours before? Unthinkable. So he sat, trying not to move his head, and speaking as little as possible, doing his best to keep his shaking to a minimum. 

Nothing stays hidden forever, though, and his undoing came when the men adjourned for the midday meal. Michael, eager to find a cold, dark room in which to pass the hour, stood too quickly, and a wave of pain flooded every inch of his head and cascaded down his spine. He gripped the back of the chair for dear life, or else he would have toppled over, but his free hand flew to clutch his head as a guttural groan escaped against his will. He felt hands on his back and arms and heard voices saying something, but his vision had all but grayed out and it was all he could do to cling to consciousness. 

There were too many people around him, too many people talking, and Michael only wanted a breath of air and silence. His mumbled protests seemed to be going unheard, and he thought he likely wasn't coherent. He desperately needed to get away, so he made a serious miscalculation: he let go of the chair, his lifeline, and tried to take a few steps. He had a split second to process his vision going from gray to black as his knees buckled beneath him out of nowhere before he knew no more.

~~~

He woke in a hospital bed in Pearl Harbor's medical ward to the feel of his face being sponged with a cold cloth. Yet consciousness returned to him sluggishly, so at first the sensation was detached from anything else. He made an involuntary noise, though, which elicited a response:

"Nice to have you back with us, sailor," said a woman's voice. 

This was a turn of events he had not expected, so he forced his eyes open, though it took great effort. 

A white cap with a red cross, blue eyes, red hair framing a pretty face. This was all he could take in before his eyes fell shut as he groaned again. 

"That's quite the fever you have. You've got all the officers in an uproar. You certainly know how to get attention, don't you?" said the nurse conversationally as she continued to sponge him off. 

In his near-delirious state he had trouble following what she was saying, but he thought he caught the gist of it, though he could think of nothing to say in response.

She seemed not to notice or mind his silence, and continued her side of the conversation easily. "And I can't think of a more inconvenient place to get sick. I'm sure you were enjoying your visit to the island. No one wants to see the inside of a sick bay, but especially not at a new port. Still, there are worse places to convalesce I suppose." 

As she spoke, he was checking in with the rest of his senses: A cool breeze danced across his skin, carrying tantalizing, delicious floral and fruity scents for which he had no name. Forcing his lids open again, he tried to look past the nurse, taking in gauzy curtains fluttering beside open windows filled with sunlight. If one focused on the window, it would be easy to forget that one was in a sick bay. 

At length a cup of water was pressed to his lips, and he drank it down eagerly. 

"Thank you," he said. His voice felt rusty. He wondered how long he'd been unconscious.

"My pleasure." The nurse pulled the cloth away at last as Michael felt himself starting to shiver. "I'm Helen, by the way."

"Pleased to meet you. I'm Michael," he mumbled, belatedly realizing she would already know his name and everything about him, probably including what he looked like naked, since he had gathered that he was dressed in a hospital gown. 

She also pretended this was a normal meeting, though. "Pleased to make your acquaintance. You're not going anywhere for a while, not until we get that fever down, so I think we'll be seeing a lot of each other. But I'll take good care of you, never fear."

She winked broadly, and he couldn't help but smile. She had managed to make him feel at ease already, a task few medical personnel ever accomplished. She was good at her job… or else this fever was making him crazier than he realized. 

Conversation was proving to be difficult, though, and once more he was at a loss for what to say. He spoke the first words that came to mind after a sluggish pause:

"I look forward to getting to know you better, Helen." His eyes were already getting heavy with exhaustion, but he heard her laugh softly. 

"Get some rest, Michael. I'll be here when you wake."

After that, he knew no more.

#sicktember 2023 #skt 2023 #prompt 15 #navy man ocs

[astraveil]

thoughts on shadowbringers so far

holy shit. i thought stormblood was good, this expansion has been simply insane and i'm not even halfway through with 5.0. spoilers ahead.

the buildup to this expansion is incredibly tense and powerful, essentially watching your friends get picked off one by and not really understanding why at first. then when it all clicks, you're just waiting. waiting for the wol to get ripped away next.

mostly i just want to scream about how pretty the forest of the lost sheperd is. HOLY FUCK IT'S SO PRETTYYYYYYY

i'm surprised i restrained myself enough to only take two photos lol

the intro? rad. really sells the vibe.

and i also absolutely love how sassy the wol's dialogue can be now???

love the personality on display here, the writing for the wol is really coming into its own and i love it so, SO much

speeding along here, i've known about the tesleen twist for quite some time, but that DID NOT remove the impact from the scene in the slightest. it's horrifying, it's in-your-face, it's BRUTAL. and i wouldn't have it any other way.

eulmore too, but for different reasons. equally brutal, but in a more insidious way, like...the entire vibe of of the place felt very cult-like to me, gatetown basically being lied to and kept almost sedated and content with their shitty situation using clown women and bread. also the bit about ascending later on? like 'yeah if we ascend everything will be just fine and dandy' which...No?????

and then it hits you. like, cinder block to the face HITS YOU. THIS PLACE SUUUUUUUCKS.

i want to beat vauthry up so badly holy shit

the chais are cool, at least

anyway i've been rambling for a while. the ost is incredible, ardbert is a good boy and i love him, the titania jumpscare was terrifying, the lightwarden fights are rad and i love this expansion so far. please please please play ffxiv if you haven't already, it is so worth it.

#ffxiv #ffxiv shadowbringers #ffxiv spoilers #astra chronicles #that last screenshot of titania i grabbed from someone else because i got too scared anticipating the jumpscare and left the room lmao

[woefullyweird]

Letter to you

I went to therapy yesterday and I felt an impetus to write this afterwards. Your situation with X is your own. You get to make your own choices and have your own feelings about the matter. But I need to say this once. To preface, I am not angry towards anyone.

I was the one who had to take on the role as parent over the last few months. I had to check in on you and mom. Listen to how you feel and comfort you. I was the one who had to sit there with you and watch the pain and sadness you both endured. I had to take that on. Me. Your child. I was the one that had to watch you crumble and not know how to go forward. I had to see that, as the kid. I saw you struggle and fall a part for the first time in my life. I was the one that came over and took the time to be around you when things were awful and you just needed someone to be around but never had the heart to say it. I was the one that took on the role of parent. I made sure you were taking care of yourself, I advocated for you to seek out help both mentally and physically. I was the one that never left. Me. I never left. And what did I get from that?

The answer is nothing. You took me for granted. You call and expect me to always be there. But I can't always be there. I'm still your little girl. I have my own life, my own feelings. My life and routine has been changed completely because I am the one that stays and makes sure everything is okay with you.

But you know what, everything is not okay with me. And the funny part is. You never asked. You never thought how putting all of this on me would feel. I took on all of your emotions and pain. But no one ever thought maybe, just maybe you filled my cup up so much that it's over flowing. It is spilling everywhere and I have no one to turn to. Why would I put this on my parents when I know they are already at their emotional capacity. I thought of you, before pushing it on. That is the difference between me and you. I would never put something on you and not consider the pain it would cause you. Not ask if you are alright. Even when my world falls a part, I still ask how you are. How your day was. That is the difference.

And with all of that being said, you can't expect that our relationship is going to be all fine and dandy when bringing her back into the mix. Her and I are done. She cause pain that I had to see day in and day out to the people I love and cherish the most. She hasn't taken accountability, she hasn't apologized for the damage she has caused. And with that being said she won't be a part of my life. I have too much on my plate to just sit back and watch you pretend like everything is going to be ok. The hurt has gone too deep and it hasn't even been acknowledged. You have the ability to make your own decisions but at the end of the day, don't expect me to support this one. You have to understand that our relationship in the future will change. There has been too much put on my back for me to just pretend that I am okay any longer. I have to set my boundaries and focus on myself because at this point I am the only one that is advocating for myself. I understand that comes with age and maturing. But that doesn't mean it doesn't still hurt. I was left in the dust the second she reached out. I am just here, doing everything right. I am no appreciated, I am not feeling loved. And that is okay, it is something I can work through. But I am alone. My friends are gone, all that is left is my family. And in a sense I am even isolated from them. No one asks how I feel or how this has all affected me. Because I am always ok. But I am not. But how would you know. As I said before, I am taken for granted. And that hurts. I feel seen as a bag of rocks no matter how much I try and love you. While she is seen as a box full of diamonds.

[scrunkl3bunk1e]

Desc: oh god here we goez. my 12-year old ass with my blorbo. man i’m gonna be a donk to deal with.

Insp: crossoversaga <3 ur reader/docf fic is quite fancy!! muy bien :) (im sorry i dont speak a lot of spanish :’D)

Here I go.

(this is in my pov if I had a diary bahah. it gets switched so dw! anything in purple is diary stuff bahah)

And so hey!! On vacation in supposedly what’s called the Chipper Grove, it feels familiar. Meh, but big sis is up at her college for now, so yeah! Just me and my parents, along with a long road trip. Man this is gonna be a while.

As I got my stuff out of our truck and into the cabin we got, I felt peace for once. “Maddy?” Mom called me. “Yeah?” “Me and Dad are going out for a bit, okay? We’ll be back!” Mom said. “‘Kay!” I said joyfully. I hadn’t been left alone in so long, I always had to have someone there to keep me company.

So I decided to go out, get some air in me. Even though I’m not an outdoorsy kind of person. At least two hours passed, and all I got was the feeling of being watched and several doodles of my persona with her boyfriend. I kept chuckling to myself, trying to make sure I didn’t get too nervous about my situation.

But I couldn’t keep myself awake, and fell asleep up against a tree nearby… And when I woke up, I was just floating, and I was er… Barely clothed to say the least. I awoke slowly, realizing my eyes were fine within the fluid I was encased in… But I’m not a swimmer! I actually REALLY hate having water on me!

So I tried breaking the glass in front of me, just smashing it clear open and getting whatever breathing muzzle was on me off. “Uuughhhh, finally!” I sighed in relief. Something still felt like I was being watched, but I didn’t know what. I went and got my journal back…

So I just woke up in a chamber! Don’t know what’s going on but I haven’t been picked up by my parents yet! :(( Hope they’re okay and I survive! D:

I managed to get my spare outfit from my bag, which was open somehow. At least my Switch stayed. I sighed again in grumpiness then went through into a hall, carrying my bag. I was still really confused about this place, but I got all my stuff in my bag and wandered until I came to a room. “Dandy Chillspace. Intruders out.” the steel door’s text read. “Well, that’s not gonna stop me because I don’t CARE!” I said, opening up the door.

A suited creature jolted up and looked at me. He was surprised but also looked angry. “Oh for f!cks sake. YOU GOT OUT?!” he yelped at me, enraged. I was startled but I was fine. “Hell to the yeah I did b!!!!tch! Name’s Zayden, how you doin sexyyyy?” I tried to introduce myself. The suited creature just facepalmed and stood up.

He was about 4 inches taller than me, and was an embryo in a jar. He peered down at me before clearing his throat. “AHEM. I am Dr. Fetus, insolent child. You’ve been taken by me. Never to see the world again, you fool.” he said. I kept nodding like a dumbass. “‘Kay, ‘kay, cool. You corrupted or something man?” “What.” “Corrupted, like these guys!” I said, bringing up an image of Boss and his cohorts, Barracuda and Lycanthropy. “Blegh. Pink.” Dr. Fetus muttered. “Oh my god, you don’t like pink either?” I asked him. Doc nodded. “It’s an atrocity to this wretched planet.” My eyes shimmered as I hugged him, ever so tight it was a “hug of death”. “DOOGH-“ Doc squeaked. He’d never been hugged before. Not by anyone he ever knew.

Maybe this is the first person to care about him, for a long time.

As I let go of him slightly, still gazing at Dr. Fetus, I felt such happiness. I thought we’d get along great, but then I started my question storm… “Where am I gonna be put? You got food? Ya like jazz? You don’t have any plans of hurting me right?” and so on.

Dr. Fetus just picked me up, and carried me over to his room. He set me down on his bed. “There. You happy kid?” he asked me, grumpy. I just stared at him as I got out my Switch and began messing with SSBU. Thank god I brought all my games. Dr. Fetus just looked at me with questions in his mind. “What… what are you playing.” “Smash bros. Wanna mess with me?” I said, inviting him into a challenge. “Dare I even ask what slang you’re using, kid…” I sighed. “I’m asking if you wanna play some Smash with me or not, man.” “…Fine.”

And so it began, a little game. I was Ganondorf (fun fact: I main him. Warlock Punch ftw man), and he chose Bowser, the shadow one. “Ah. Looks like you, except as a turtle-dragon!” I chuckled. Doc didn’t bother, and we just got through our match.

Of course I won, being a person who’s beaten a Lv. 9 CPU once. “WOOOOO!! Haha, good game man.” I said in joy as I hugged Doc. Dr. Fetus was just left puzzled. He sighed. “You know, I suppose that’s nice. Just another game where I destroy things. Like you, kid. Eeheeh…” I looked at him, staring with concern. “Oki! So then I got moar!!” I said cheery as I got out my other games.

Pokémon Shield and Sword, Let’s go Eevee and Pikachu, Minecraft, Mario Kart 8 Deluxe, Super Mario Odyssey… I had some demos as well, but they wouldn’t really work out. “Ooh! You wanna go off with some Mario Kart? I’ll let you play DRY Bowser!” I told Doc, happier than I should be. “Heh. Sure kid, but after this I have crap to do. Got a busy life…” Doc said, his speech turning into a bit of a monologue.

We then proceeded to go for a bit of a Mario Kart course run. It went on for 4 races, I was pretty tired and it seemed to be getting late. I was Pink Gold Peach, and Doc of course was Dry Bowser. He won apparently, man had a Bullet Bill. Didn’t even notice! “Ah, good game man…” I yawned. “But dang I gotta get my sleep…” Doc nodded. “Mhm. Get yourself settled down, kid… I’ll be in my lab…”

And so my first night with an embryo in a jar who somehow kidnapped me, it went well. I think I charmed him, I kept dreaming of my persona and him just being lovers… Didn’t know why but I smiled at the thought.

When I woke up, there was suit folded up on the bed… All black with a top hat and a tie. “Mmm… Doc F?” I called out. There was a note next to me.

“Morning, kid. Got you a special outfit. I’m over in the chillspace, lil kid. Meet me for food.”. The note had a drawing of what seemed to be a hat with a monocle. I smiled at the note. “Aw, doc…” It was sweet of him to do all this! I mean it’s only my second day!

I got on the special outfit Doc got me, but I didn’t know how to tie a tie… So I did it in a bow instead! I looked really dandy, and I hopped down to the chillspace. As the door slid open I saw Doc, half asleep. He saw me, and looked to me happily. “Morning, child.” he said, slightly tired. “Morniiiiinggg!” I scampered over, like a crab as if I was just nuts… Doc sighed.

“So kid. How’d you sleep? Well, I suppose?” “Hell yeah! I think I even have some silly drawing ideas in my brain!” I squealed as I went back for my journals. Doc sighed… Was he being a father or a lover?

I raced back into the chillspace and flopped onto the floor, folding myself into a veerrryy harsh position. I kept chuckling to myself as I started drawing Doc F in so many ways it was crazy. I then showed it to him, and he just looked at it. He adjusted his monocle for a second, then slightly chuckled to himself. “You did draw me good, kid. I’ll give you that.”

“You don’t have to call me ‘kid’, Doc! You can call me Z too, or my name? Zayden? Didn’t I tell ya?” “Uuugghh. Sorry, Z… Just been up in the lab, catching up with old creations…” I gasped, in absolute joy. “YOU MAKE STUFF?!” I squealed. Doc got up. “Hell yeah I do, Z. Come along, I can show you what I do… My son’s back too, he was locked in bismuth…” “Whoa… Wonder what he’s like!” I said cheery, as we just kept walking along to the lab…

And then I saw him, just sitting there asleep. A brownie in a beige trench coat and fedora, and he seemed really nice. Doc tried to wake him up… “Brownie. Brown. Son!” he yelped to him. Brownie woke up. “Yep, hey dad…” he said, still a tad drowsy. “So, the kid I told you about last night. This is them.” he said, looking at me. “Her name is Z, and she-” “Hell-LOOOO?? I forgot to say I’m non-binary! I use they/them pronouns thank you!” Doc sighed. “My apologies, child… Ugh… “

Brownie got up and smiled at me. Tipping his fedora to me, he seemed chipper and lovely. “Pleased to meet ya, sibling! Ah’m Brownie, world-renown world traveller!” I tipped my hat to him. “Ah, glad to meet you too, good sire!” I said, medival-ish. Doc just wandered out. We both followed along as he went up to the roof…

There were mechanisms all around, and I was still gazing at it all… It was so pretty, I didn’t even know where I was. Then Doc went and fell off the roof, backwards. “DOC!” I yelped. “NO WORRIES! I’M PERFECTLY FINE!” Doc said, flying back up, as bat-like wings held him up. They had warm, stringy membrane and talons, they seemed to have been in his coat. Brownie went off the roof too, and floated up as a bismuth hand connected to a vortex held him up.

I was so excited that I went and ran off the roof, happy and cheery. I tried to spread the wings in my suit, assuming I had them. And lo, I began to flutter… “Oh. My. F!cking god!” I swore. Doc was proud of me. Flying over to me, he smiled. “Very amazing, Z… A natural flyer for sure. Wondrous use of ‘f!cking’ too.” he complimented me, happy. Brownie just clapped from over on the bismuth.

We then just got back in, and I was in so much satisfaction. But questions still flooded my brain, ideas too! They were all so amazing I wanted to draw them all! I made another journal entry, and let my new buddies write in it:

I have a brother AND a father!! This is so amazing, and I can fly! Oh my god this is so amazing!! CALM DOWN CHILD. NO NEED TO SCREAM. C’mon Dad, Let Them Be Fun If They Want To!

I was so excited for what was to come, but little did I know it wouldn’t be fun.

#📝 // Poetry and Hearts… #fanfiction #fanfic #my fic #canon x self insert #self insert fic #self insert #dr fetus #dr fetus x self #self x canon #canon x self #drfetus #dr. fetus #dr.fetus #doctor fetus #super meat boy #super meat boy forever #super meatblr

[faintblueivy]

So Imagine...

A world where Bruce Wayne died as a child in that alley that day, Martha and Thomas Wayne grieve as normal parents. They DO NOT BECOME BATMAN AND JOKER. 

Nothing ever remains the same after losing their little boy. So, Thomas buries himself in his work and Martha drowns herself in depression and pain. They do therapy and it works a little and life becomes bearable but...not happy.

One day, Alfred badgers the couple to go out and relax a little and buys them tickets for a circus - Haly’s circus. Everything was going nice and dandy and Martha was in awe of this little acrobat as much as the rest of the crowd when suddenly the rope snaps and the boy’s parents fall to their deaths - right in front of him and the gathering. Thomas is quick to jump in to see if he could help them in any way but Martha can see it in his eyes that they are as dead as they can be. 

They return to home with heavy hearts and Martha can’t get the image of the little boy out of her head. His skin was a light shade of bronze but his dark hair and bright cerulean blue eyes reminded her so much of Bruce that her heart wouldn’t rest. So a few days later she uses her connections to know if the child is safe and well cared for, when to her immense horror, she is replied that he was shipped to Gotham Juvie due to the lack of foster homes. She is enraged.

She calls Thomas and Alfred and lets them know about the little acrobat’s situation and declares that she was going to adopt him. They hesitate a little but she is not to be deterred as she goes ahead and brings the little boy home. 

Richard John Grayson - Wayne. Or Dick, as he likes to call himself. 

He is adamant that he wants no parents and Martha is fine because not only that she is old enough to be not his mother but also because no child can ever be her Bruce.

“You can just call me Grandma then.” She tells him.

His eyes are wide but he nods and then smiles and Martha, in a long while, has never felt this happy. 

Her new Grandson, despite losing his parents, is a ray of sunshine with unlimited supply of energy and the cold and empty manor is warm and happy again. 

Dick is a little charmer and even after Thomas and Alfred’s initial reluctance, they immediately fall in love with the boy and one day, when Martha comes down to the morning breakfast, she hears a happy, deep rumble - one she has not heard in many years. Thomas is laughing. 

There on the dining table, seated beside Dick, was Thomas laughing. Her eyes water at the scene and Alfred, who is standing beside her offers her a handkerchief. None of them mention how his own eyes are wet too.

 ...

Dick is sixteen, a brilliant boy in academics as much as they disinterest him but an invincible athlete. Martha has been told time and time again that her grandson is undoubtedly a international level gymnast. But he is a teenager.

And teenagers steal their grandparent’s ‘coolest’ car and rush off into the night. But they don’t come back with a little battered and bruised, homeless kid tucked under their arm.

“He had jacked three tires off your car. When I confronted him, he tried to hit me with a tire iron.” He says, amused, as Thomas tries to convince the child to show him his injuries.

“I didn’t do nothin’! He’s a fuckin’ big boob liar!” They boy screams, his blue green eyes glaring daggers at Dick.

“Language.” Both her and Alfred warn simultaneously.

After hours of struggle, interrogation and fuck you’s, Martha learns that the child’s name is Jason. He is twelve. Mother died form drug overdosing and Dad is a petty henchman of some crime lord. He ran away from multiple foster homes because they are so abusive that the child feels safer on streets. 

Martha goes on a rampage over Gotham’s foster care after that. She did not donate millions of dollars annually for children to feel safer on streets. After of lot of talks and reassurances and promises, Martha acquires her second grandchild.

Jason Peter Todd - Wayne. 

Jason is tiny. Malnourished like Leslie said. But he is sharp, observant and hungry for knowledge. Martha and Alfred joke that Jason is Thomas' soul child. Where Dick had loved activity and movement, Jason liked quiet and stability - Martha thinks that running and fighting for survival on streets every single day does that you. So evenings often found her and Dick in the garden but Thomas and Jason in the library pouring over as many books as they can.

And to nobody's surprise, despite their rocky start, the boys become inseparable. They are outwardly different, with clashing interests and behaviors but Martha can see that they both carry the same cores of light.  

When the morning of Dick’s Parent’s death anniversary comes around, both her and Thomas find Jason on Dick’s bed, arms curled protectively around his big brother. For the first time in so many years, Dick wakes up to warmth surrounding him, not nightmares. 

...

Both her grandsons attend Gotham Academy so when she receives a phone call from the Principal, she is half surprised and half not. When she enters the Principal’s office, both her boys are standing on one side, Jason with his head hung in shame and Dick glaring daggers at the other side. The boy who seems to be injured is being coddled by his mother who is shooting nasty glares at her grandchildren periodically. 

Then she notices another small boy standing beside her boys, trying to melt into the wall.

Tim Drake. The only son of Jack and Janet Drake of Drake Industries.    

She arches a questioning eyebrow at Dick who shakes his head and then she turns to the Principal. 

“What happened here?”

“Glad to see you’re here Mrs. Wayne.” The Principal says, pushing his glasses up his nose, “I regret to inform you that your ward Jason Peter Todd attacked this young man here.” He gestures to the other boy. 

“Madam, Gotham Academy is a prestigious school and we do not encourage physical violence here. Yes, it might have been acceptable from where he came from but it won’t be, here. I hope you give us the right to punish Mr. Todd here appropriately.” 

Martha inwardly bristles at the jab at her grandson and says crisply, “Mr. Wayne.”

“What?”

“He’s not just Todd. He is a Wayne. Please remember that.”

“Principal Sir.” Dick cuts in and Martha is confused because as hyperactive as Dick is, he is a mannerly child and knows better than to cut in a conversation like this but what draws her attention is the chilling tone which Dick almost never uses. Dick continues, “Why don’t you tell our grandmother more of your regrets? Or the prestigious Gotham Academy believes that bullying is acceptable.” 

Martha has been told what she needs to know. 

“Jason?” she calls out to her youngest grandson softly, “What happened?”

Jason is quiet when suddenly Tim Drake moves forward. She can see he is scared the way his hands shake but determination shines in his blue eyes. She likes him.

“I want to say something.”

He narrates the tale of how he was being bullied and how the boy on the other side with his mother threw his science project model away and broke it and physically tried to attack him when Jason stepped in to save him. Martha felt nothing but pride at Jason’s righteous indignation. 

Tim also explained that Jason exercised immense control even after these bullies called him ‘street rat’, but the verbal spar intensified after Dick was insulted for his Romani heritage, but it came to fist fight after Thomas and Martha were insulted, and Bruce’s death was made fun of.

Her gaze snaps to the other three occupants of the room and they are all in various shades of pale. Apparently, the Principal had not done his homework.

“Principal” She says icily, “Yes, I give you the authority to punish Jason appropriately but only when this young man here”, she gestures to the boy who was now cowering behind his mother, “Is dealt with in the same way.”

After threatening the Principal in soft words but harsh tone about not tolerating to having her grandsons bullied the next time, she grabs Jason’s hand to drag him away from these people who don’t deserve his company, when her eyes fall on the little trembling Tim. 

She offers him her hand.

He stares at it, shocked but after an encouraging smile from Dick and a small shove from Jason, he takes it shyly.

And since that day, Tim becomes a member of Martha’s family. The boys stay together so much that even Thomas forgets that Tim is not theirs. 

Tim’s upbringing sends Martha’s grandmother instincts on a haywire and she resents the Drakes for their criminal neglect towards Tim. 

It is rewarding that Tim flourishes in their attention. 

She learns that his hobby is Photography and he is excellent at it. And he is a genius when it comes to science, computers and gadgets. He likes crime thrillers movies and books and often picks them apart with his scarily good knowledge about forensics that leave the rest of the family in awe and slightly disturbed. 

The dam breaks when one day Jason and Dick return back from school telling her that Tim was absent today and they are worried about him. When they later sneak into the Drake mansion in the evening, Thomas receives a frantic call from their oldest grandchild that Tim was burning with fever. Because Thomas is a doctor, they save Tim before anything serious happens.

This time, it is Thomas who sues the Drakes for Tim’s custody after him and Jason had, had enough of ‘Timbo’s shitty parents’.

“Timothy?” Martha brushes his sweat soaked forehead gently. “Would you like to be a member of our family legally?"

Tim is hesitant about this but he admits that he likes Wayne manor much better than he ever liked Drake mansion. He confesses that he loves Jason and Dick as brothers and sees Martha, Thomas and Alfred as his grandparents as well.

The long custody battle ends with both Jack and Janet Drake dying at the hands of two different tragedies, leaving Tim an orphan, but also with a loving family consisting of three grandparents and two brothers by his side. 

Timothy Jackson Drake - Wayne is adopted into the Wayne family as her and Thomas’ third grandson.

...

A year after they adopt Tim, Thomas comes home with a small girl on his side. She is clearly an east Asian in heritage with dark hair and dark eyes and is speech deprived. Thomas is clearly distressed after Cassandra - her name is Cassandra - is safely secured in warm bed in a nice room across Jason’s. He calls her, the three boys and Alfred to his study to explain about the small girl. 

He talks about how Gordon brought the girl to him and after hours of wordless, signed and clumsily sketched on paper conversations with the little girl they were able to determine that Cassandra was hiding from her father who was an assassin and wanted to drag the little girl down the same path before she ran away. The more he talks about the damage and abuse the girl had experienced at the hands on her own father, the more furious Martha becomes. When Thomas’ explanations ends, Jason slams a punch into the wall making a dent but no one has the heart to reprimand him for that. 

The following morning, Martha can see that her three boys have unanimously decided that they are adopting Cassandra as their sister. She is treated like a Princess, and given the nick name ‘Cass’. 

Slowly but surely, Cass learns what it means to love through Dick’s bright kindness, Jason’s quiet protection and Tim’s infinite patience. After her father is finally apprehended, the family celebrates.

Cassandra Wayne, soon after, becomes the beloved Wayne Princess of Gotham. 

Martha and Thomas often accompany their only granddaughter to her speech therapy lessons, so after six months of her adoption, at dinner, she places a kiss on everyone’s forehead - her three brothers and three grandparents, stands at the head of the table and croaks out, slowly, “Thank...thank you.” All of them stare at her flabbergasted, but it appears that she was planning to shock them even more.

“You...Love. Love you...”

The silence that follows her broken but sure words is deafening. Surprisingly it is Tim who breaks it as he scrambles out of his chair and launches himself at Cass, wrapping his arms around her and both Jason and Dick follow him, grabbing both their youngest siblings fiercely.

A quiet sob breaks her out of the trance and she smiles when she watches Thomas furiously wiping his tears from the sleeve of his shirt. The last time he     had cried was at Bruce’s funeral. And Martha is infinitely grateful that this time these are happy tears. 

...

Sometimes Martha wonders what would have happened if Bruce had lived. If these children are her grandchildren then does that mean they are Bruce’s kids? Had Bruce lived, would he have accepted these gaggle of kids that her and Thomas have collected over the years as his own? Would he have kids of his own? 

Her questions are answered when one day she hears a slight commotion in the entrance is surprised to see a young woman with a sword threatening Alfred.

“I want to meet the Master of this house. Let them know immediately.” She demands in an authoritative but silky voice, and Martha suddenly sees the Toddler clutched in her arm. 

“What is it?” Martha speaks as soon as she can when the woman notices her. She looks surprised for a second but immediately schools her features as the baby fusses.

“You’re alive.” She whispers and before any of them could make an indignant comment about her wordings, she says, “It appears that I might have traveled in to the wrong universe.”

Now that is interesting. Martha lives in a world where they are protected by aliens...so, it is certainly worth hearing for. 

Martha offers the young lady an invitation for tea which she accepts. She notices how the woman carries herself with lethal grace and dignity as if she was a Princess but much more. As they sit and Alfred leaves to bring the promised team Martha notices how the woman’s eyes sweep over the place. 

“How may I help you?”

Her voice attracts the attention of the toddler and this time, he is not clutched tightly enough to his mother’s chest to turn his small head and look at her. Martha gasps. Because the child looks too much like Toddler Bruce. But instead of the blue eyes like her son, this child has glowing green ones, like his mother. But still, the resemblance is uncanny. 

“Yes, he is your son’s.” The woman answers the unasked question.

She is explained the existence of Multiverse, and it’s workings and how Bruce survived instead of them in that world, met Talia (the woman’s name is Talia Al Ghul) and had a child but had to leave. Talia mentions the reason she came here was because her son’s life was in danger and Talia’s father wanted to raise her son as an assassin Prince and a tool for him to use. Talia’s solution to protect her son was for her to give her son to the Bruce of this world to raise, since the Bruce of that world had gone missing.   

“I can raise him.” Martha suddenly declares and the woman looks at him shocked. “I will not raise him into a life of violence but I can certainly protect him and give him a happy civilian life.”

Talia looks unsure, hesitant, but says, “I...have been a warrior since the day I can remember. Never once have I ever thought of my son not being a warrior. He was...born to be one.” 

Martha smiles. “He doesn’t have to be one. Yes, his life will be infinitely different than the one you imagined but...he will be well loved and protected. I can assure you of that.”

“Damian.” Talia whispers as he deposits the baby in her arms after a lot of consideration. “His name is Damian.”

She looks at her son tenderly one last time and places a kiss on his forehead and Martha’s heart breaks a little for the young mother. 

“Will you return back for him?” Martha asks as she follows the Talia to the door.

“No.” Talia whispers, her voice strained. “I will not. Any action taken by me is monitored by my father closely. If I return back, then he might know that I have left Damian here and I cannot let that happen. He is yours, forever.”

Martha gives her a sad smile. “You’re a brave and good mother Talia. Thank you for doing what is best for your son.”

She nods, not turning to look at Damian one last time as she leaves the manor grounds, never to return. 

Martha looks at the baby secure in her arms and her lips quirk up into a grin at the sight of two curious green eyes watching her with interest. 

“Welcome to the family, little Damian.”

When she introduces the new addition to the family, Thomas is dumbfounded. Dick is ecstatic at the prospect of having a new baby brother, Jason is secretly pleased, Cass is happiest and Tim looks unsure.

That’s how Damian Wayne - Al Ghul joins the family.

Damian fits in their home spectacularly. After few days of hesitation, like he had with Dick, Thomas takes to Damian quickly. He has an epic competition going on with their eldest grandson to become the baby’s favorite. Damian refuses to sleep without Thomas but his tantrums are only controlled and won over by Dick. Damian loves Jason manhandling him and giggles happily when the older boy throws him in the air or swings him around. Damian loves Cassandra because she knows what he wants before any of them do. And Cass loves to carry her little brother around to watch birds and animals in the manor grounds.

The only person Damian seems to not get along with is Tim and the older boy seems not be fond of him either. Because Damian wants everything Tim does and the older brother has to compromise for Damian every time. But Martha has to bite laughs a lot now a days because almost everytime Damian falls asleep, it is with Tim in vicinity. And she has caught the older boy tenderly covering Damian in his favorite blanket more often than not. Martha thinks that this is kind of cute but keeps her opinion to herself. 

Her little grandson is quite protective of his siblings though. Anytime someone upsets any of his siblings, they are threatened with scowls, growls and even bites and stabbings in extreme cases.

Like last time when Mrs. Park made fun of Cassandra’s  speech impairment, Damian almost bit her finger off. Damian hates one of Dick’s racist colleague (they all do) so much that anytime the man enters his field of vision, the first thing Damian gets his hand on is thrown at the guy’s head. With deadly precision. And last time when Mr. Link had called Jason ‘street rat’ for personally volunteering charity work for poor and homeless, Damian had smeared his juice and drool covered hands on the Man’s thousand dollars suit. And when one time, a reporter had infiltrated a Gala and chased Tim around to ask uncomfortable questions about his parent’s death and the Wayne’s involvement in it, Damian, noticing Tim’s distress had stabbed the reporter with a fork with no hesitation. 

Martha is still not sure if she should encourage or reprimand Damian for that.

...

As she sits on the head of the table with Thomas on her side and Alfred on the other end, she wonders how miraculous it is for her to have all these children in her life. 

Dick is engaged in an animated conversation with Stephanie who was introduced to the family as Tim’s girlfriend. Barbara, the daughter of James Gordon and Dick’s girlfirend/or not was helping Cass pile up food on her plate. Damian and Tim were bickering over something as usual but Jason trying to hide his snickers in guise of drinking water which made Martha sure that the something was Jason’s doing.

These people were her family. The ones she had gained after losing Bruce. She wonders, if there was a universe where Bruce got to meet her grandchildren. 

Would he accept them? As family? 

Would he love them? As family? 

She brightly smiles when the multiple sets of eyes turn to her waiting for her to blow the candle.

“Happy Birthday Martha.”

Thomas says warmly, his voice thick with emotion and she meets his gaze and sees the love, affection and thankfulness in his eyes for this family that they had created after their earth shattering loss. She knows what she wants as she blows the candle on the cake flickering in front of her.

I wish for us to be family in every universe.

#batman #martha wayne #thomas wayne #bruce wayne #dick grayson #jason todd #Tim Drake #cassandra cain #Damian Wayne #wayne family #batfamily #batfam #stephanie brown #barbara gordon #nightwing #red hood #robin #batgirl #spoiler #black bat #orphan #this is fic? or not #batfam fanfiction #bat siblings #bat brothers #i like this idea #imagine if Bruce stumbles into this universe #dc #dc universe #found family

[simonsnowichooseyou]

This excellent essay was posted by @goodbyedandelion and reposted on Instagram—however their account sadly seems gone now. But it is in rememberence of their Tumblr spirit that I post a continuation to their essay!

EVEN MORE Reasons Why Carry On is so groundbreaking as a YA Fantasy/Romance

Misconceptions/Character Complexity

A large topic in YA Contemporary is gossip, but I feel like fantasy doesn’t touch on this as much. Think of how others perceive one another in Carry On. Early on we learn that Simon, for example, saw Penny as different because of her race. But of course, we quickly know this isn’t true.

But what about Agatha? In Harry Potter, for example, Lavender Brown and other feminine characters are often looked down upon because of their femininity. We often as a culture perceive beauty as overcompensation for what’s inside. Sometimes Agatha is looked at in the same light in Carry On, but when we see things from her POV, we realize that Agatha is perhaps the smartest one there. Maybe she’s not Penny Bunce-smart, but she has the survival instincts that Penny lacks.

Agatha isn’t the only one. Baz looks cold and unfeeling from others’ POVs, but we quickly learn that he is a boy with a soft heart that’s been hardened by his past. Everyone thinks he cares about nothing but we know he cares about his mother and how she’d feel about him; his father and step-mother and siblings; Simon, of course; Bunce, in his own way; he even cares about flowered suits and dramatic entrances! We think Bunce is nerdy and perhaps annoying, but we learn she’s very sweet and like a mother to Simon. And the mage. Ugh, the mage. We think he cares about Simon but we learn that for every bit he cares about Simon, he cares about the war more.

Rowell doesn’t allow any character to be simple, stereotypical, or as they appear. My sister, for example, was saying that Baz sounded like a stereotypical gay man in the media. But he’s not, is he? He might love fashion but Rowell does not make him simple or stereotypical. Everyone is so complex, and she uses the multi-POV to not just show us their complexity but also the complexity of how they are viewed by others.

Woman on Woman Drama/Anger

For years and years, only one woman was allowed to have a true seat at the table in films. Take Indiana Jones, the original Avengers, and Star Wars for example. This woman was often made to be the sex appeal or romantic interest, but I’ll save that for another day. Because of there only being one spot, it set a precedent that women in media needed to fight with each other to take that spot, thus depriving us of women getting along!

At first, I was worried Rowell had fallen into this trap. Bunce thinks Agatha is simple and too feminine, Agatha thinks Bunce is a major pain in the ass. Their dislike for one another is complicated in that they’re essentially two different types of feminism battling it out, and half of their fight was about Simon and their roles in his life.

But in the end, Penny and Agatha create a relationship that exists outside of their relationship with Simon. Penny sees Agatha’s strength and resilience; Agatha recognizes Penny’s harsh exterior for what is is. When Agatha moves away, they text without his even knowing. Penny is the one that decides they need to check on and save her. In the end, penny and Agatha fight alongside one another.

Rowell didn’t just give us a feminine friendship—she showed us what we’ve been doing, and how to get from Point A to point B. I think it’s the most underrated part of the series.

True Friendship

It might sound bad, but I truly believe a lot of today’s media ruins the idea of friendship. I just feel like none of the portrayals are realistic. Friends are either joined at the hip and have never fought (toxic) or never get along (also toxic). The fact that Baz and Penny and Simon and Penny and Agatha and Penny can get into fights but still continue to love one another platonically is really heartwarming to me.

Trauma/Mental Illness

I remember getting to the end of Harry Potter and thinking “he went through all of that and we’re just supposed to leave him now?” We see some remnants in the most cursed play ever: The Cursed Child. But more than trauma we see someone who looks back on the days they risked their life everyday with *longing.* While that’s about the most Harry Potter thing Harry Potter has ever done (and the most canonical part of that play) it’s so unrealistic. You’re telling me Harry grew up with nothing and was an amazing father—minus a few spats with his son. You’re telling me Harry was able to hold it together emotionally after fighting for his life from ages 11-18 without a therapists help? You’re telling me Harry lost two father figures in the ministry of magic AND spent 7 years going through what amounted to a lesson titled “the government is corrupt” just to be a part of that government!?

Wayward son isn’t like that. Wayward Son shows us what happened to Simon afterwards, and it’s not peaches and cream. He had therapy, he quit therapy. A lot of us have been Simon on that couch, and we all needed the Baz in our life to drag us across a metaphorical America. Wayward Son is hands-down my favorite book. Realistic depictions of mental illness, check. Subverting our expectations of after the end, check. Reading it feels like taking a road trip, check.

As OP mentioned, Simon is a beloved chosen one because he’s just so wrong for the role. He’s not levelheaded where he should be, he’s bold in all the wrong places, he couldn’t possibly maintain a professional relationship with the coven. Meanwhile his super-hot enemy Baz was the absolute perfect choice to be chosen, but he was completely passed over. And part of this chalks up to how Simon became so powerful—fate isn’t twisting its whims this way and that. Simon is only chosen because he was a Petri dish experiment-gone-wrong baby. When Simon asks the fates why, really he should be asking the mage. There’s something delightful about the fact that Simon was made. The chosen one was made, and in the same process, so was the greatest threat.

De-escalation

I think it’s clear by now that Carry On is a great book, Simon Snow is an amazing series, and Rainbow Rowell sure can write. But I feel the need to point out that the end of Carry On wasn’t well-received by everyone. I recommend the series to everyone I know and some people are really disappointed you don’t get a big magical battle at the end. Some people think Simon filling in the humdrum was a cop out. But I disagree. I felt it was thrilling to witness a book where war was as stupid in fantasy land as it can be in real life. This is the first fantasy I’ve ever read where they find a better way to handle conflict than senseless fighting. It’s emotionally rewarding, to me, to see de-escalation. To see conflicts fixed before they start to be huge problems. It was a risky choice for an end, you have to admit. But Rowell pulls it off amazingly.

Nothing is Wrapped in a Bow

A day will never go by without me thinking about the fact that Simon Snow Salisbury doesn’t know who his parents are. Or how Baz will never know what exactly happened with his mother—whether she really ended herself to avoid vampirism and whether she would’ve done it to her too. We’ll never even quite understand the mage’s plan behind fix the humdrum and get an all powerful boy wizard on his side. Rowell doesn’t wrap everything up. She gives you closure as often as she gives you something to ponder. The ending of Harry Potter was so controversial, I think, because it spelled out so clearly much of what was happening. And what you didn’t learn in that epilogue, Rowling released later through Pottermore and interviews. That’s fine and dandy—but there’s something to be said for ending Simon Snow’s books with questions. Not infuriating questions but rather things that I’ll always ponder—that will shed new light on different situations depending on how I look at them. Rowell sets a precedent that you can fill in Simon’s world with your imagination while also reminding us that life doesn’t have endings. Not really, the way books to. Rowell is one of the few writers of today’s fantasy, I’d argue, who’s okay letting things go unanswered. There’s always a thread of fantasy and magic going. It’s something that will keep Simon alive in my heart for many, many years to come.

So yeah, that’s what I think about when I think about Simon Snow. It’s not nearly as coherent as the original post but I hope you enjoy it.

#carry on rainbow rowell #simon snow #simon snow series #baz grimm pitch #carry on #simon snow salisbury #baz #any way the wind blows #baz pitch supremacy #co/ws #simon snow supremacy #penny #penny bunce #shepard from omaha #shepard #agatha wellbelove #fiona pitch #lucy salisbury #awtwb #carry on wayward son #wayward son

[wokestonecraft]

I’ve actually been thinking about women being able to chose female medical professionals. I have a couple of medical problems and potential medical problems that I’ve been dealing with since I was around 11 or 12. One of these was a potential genetic heart problem that runs in my family, so every year, my sister and I would have to go in for echocardiograms to make sure our hearts were all fine and dandy. This meant taking off our shirts and putting on those flimsy paper hospital gowns. And it was often awkward, since I was essentially topless in a dark room (so the tech could see the screen) and sometimes the probe would have to go under my breast to get the right angle to look at my heart (seeing as boobs are inconveniently located on your chest above your heart lol). It was already and extremely awkward and uncomfortable situation, but let me tell you how much more comfortable I felt with a female tech. One time, I had a young male tech, and I was too shy to ask for a woman (and I didn’t want to cause problems since it was a free clinic since they were the only place in the area with the machine). It was so much worse than normal and I felt extremely tense the entire time. I was probably about 13 or 14, and my mom was with my sister who gets anxiety attacks and couldn’t do her appointment by herself, and I just felt so, so, so uncomfortable. Nothing bad happened and he was very professional about the whole thing, as he should have been, but I was scared being left alone in a dark room with a strange man, half naked, and having to have my chest poked around. I didn’t say anything, bc that’s female socialization for you, but I really wish that I had the courage to make sure that I was comfortable in a vulnerable situation, and probably would have benefited other girls in a similar spot who were also to afraid to ask.

I don’t even have any trauma, and I still got freaked out. I never got that nervous with a female tech, and I really wish that somebody had asked if I was okay, and if I wanted a woman to do it. Actually, thinking back, I think my little sister ended up with the female tech bc she just about burst into tears when the male tech showed up, and I think that’s how I ended up with him, lol. He was very chill about it, and very polite, but I still wish I didn’t have to go thro that encounter.

But yeah, women seeking out female medical professionals should be normal and no should bat an eye at it (looking directly at male obgyns complaining about how it’s a female dominated female and how some patients just don’t want male doctors.)

#lol I do have some buried issues with doctors that are surfacing #most of my experiences with doctors have been good to neutral but a couple of bad ones stuck out #one was with a female nurse who made a mistake but I think that could be contributed to all the nurses being massively overworked #still wasn’t fun and I’m not sure I’m going to talk about it since anyone who knows me irl would probably recognize the incident lol #since it ended up being somewhat of a big deal lol #but yes #let women ask for female medical professionals #radfem #radical feminism #radfems please touch #radfem please interact #dear radblr

[dakotacrisis]

Topsy Turvy

Hyper-fixation has been activated! Who needs to work on their wips when they can start something else entirely? Hahaha...it’d be funny if it wasn’t true.

Anyhoo! Saw this cute comic by @hannahyonana and my goblin brain latched on and wouldn’t let it go. So I give you this unofficial expansion of this wonderful comic. In short: these children are disasters in more ways than one.

---

Two weeks. That is how long Adrien would be gone. Two long and painful weeks without seeing his face or hearing his voice. Pictures and videos were well and good but they were no proper substitute for the real thing.

Marinette came to the train station to see him off and steal a few more blessed minutes with him before he departed on his work trip/vacation. She had tried to convince Alya and Nino to come so she wasn’t totally alone with him but they already had plans. Marinette hadn't heard about any plans before this so she could only assume this was another Alya scheme to give Marinette a chance to confess.

Marinette had thought about it. Telling Adrien how she felt would get a lot off this nervous tension and anxiety off her chest. He didn’t even need to respond or give her an answer. Just having him know would be enough.

But could she do it? She had tried countless times before to no avail. What made this different?

Adrien and her walked along the platform full of people bustling to get here and there. Marinette gripped the box of macarons her parents made for Adrien behind her back.

The Gorilla took Adrien’s luggage and carried it onto the train. He looked back to see if Adrien was following.

"You go on ahead, I want to say goodbye real quick." Adrien ushered his bodyguard away. The Gorilla looked between them and with a curt nod of his head disappeared inside the train.

Adrien turned back to Marinette. His hair was stylishly tousled and his smile bright and beaming. Could the boy stop modeling for even a second? How was anyone meant to keep their wits about them with that thousand watt smile?

"Thanks for coming to see me off, Mari." Adrien said.

"Of course," Marinette replied, shuffling from foot to foot. "Even if you're only gone for two weeks…"

She brought the box out from behind her back and held it out to him. "Also, this is for you from my parents. A little something to snack on during the ride."

"What! That's so sweet! Literally." Adrien took the box with glee. "Be sure to give them my thanks."

"I will,"

BEE-BOOP!

The pair looked up at the sudden sound.

"Oh, that means it's time for me to go," Adrien said with a small shake of his head.

Gone again. In just another minute he'd be out of her reach once more. Even after all this time saying goodbye felt so hard. He was only going to be gone for two weeks! He was gonna come back! Why did it hurt so much being away from him?

That familiar weight settled on her chest. So many feelings left unspoken. Secrets she was dying to share. It felt like they were smothering her.

"Before you go," Marinette halted him before he could enter the train, "I have something to tell you."

"Oh yeah?" Adrien tilted his head like a curious little puppy. Why did he have to be so cute? Marinette was sweating he was so cute. Or maybe that was just her inner terror at what she was about to say.

"Well I--you see--I…" Marinette stammered and lost her nerve, "I uh, make sure to send us pictures."

"Of course!" Adrien responded with glee. "Alright well, see you later, Marinette."

He turned to get on the train and Marinette’s heart sank. Another chance at happiness, wasted. Perhaps it was for the best.

She forced her feet to move, to carry her from this painful moment. When they did though they didn't back away. They surged forward. She was barely aware that she had reached out for Adrien until she grabbed the back of his shirt.

"Wait! That's not it!" She proclaimed loudly. Her nerves came out in the shakiness and desperation in her voice. She kept her eyes shut tight. Afraid of what she would see if she opened them.

"The truth is, I'm in love with you!" She  blurted out. She let go of his shirt, her hands fisted into tight balls by her side as she quickly explained, "I'm not expecting a reply. I know you don't like me back. But have a nice trip!"

She turned on her heel and fled. Tears of anxiety or fear stinging her eyes. The last thing she heard was Adrien calling out for her to wait. Once she was far enough away she risked a glance back and saw Adrien’s face staring out the closed door in shock before the train pulled away from the station.

She stared at the now empty train track for a long time before it truly hit her. She just told Adrien she was in love with him. He was going to be thinking about how she told him she loved him for the next two weeks. Then she was going to have to face him knowing all that when he returned home.

Marinette whipped out her phone and called Alya. “I did something stupid and I need help.”

---

Adrien pulled himself away from the train door and sat down in his seat. Marinette’s parting words echoed in his ears. She loves him. She is in love with him.

When did that happen? He knew they were friends but he hadn’t expected her to be in love with him. Marinette…

He glanced down at the box in his hands. Something small and sweet to take with him. A reminder of home. A reminder of someone petite and kind that just spilled her heart out to him on the train platform.

She said she didn’t expect a response but he felt like he owed her one. She had also said she knew that he didn’t like her the same way she liked him. While it was true that Adrien’s heart had belonged to Ladybug for as long as he’s known her he did feel a warmth around Marinette. Was that love? Or was it just friendship?

Nino had a crush on Marinette. Maybe he would know. Adrien pulled out his phone and hit Nino’s number. “Hey, I’m on the train heading out but I had a question about Marinette.”

---

“Oh dear,” Alya shook her head, she covered the receiver of her phone so Marinette couldn’t hear. Not that Marinette could hear anything over the sound of her own panicked ramblings. She turned to Nino on the couch with a sly smile.  “Marinette just confessed to Adrien before he went on his trip and she’s freaking out.”

“Wow, good for her, do you think Adrien will respond?” Nino asked.

“No idea,” Alya shrugged, “It’s a good thing we left them alone though. Marinette finally got the guts to say something to him.”

“Speak of the devil,” Nino held up his phone where Adrien’s contact picture flashed on the screen. He hit answer. “Hey dude, what’s up? Miss me already?”

Alya went back to listening to Marinette and trying to calm her down while Nino talked to Adrien. The both of them were panicking messes as they ranted and lamented at their respective best friends over the phone.

“I don’t really know what to tell you about your own feelings, dude,” Nino told Adrien, “Yeah I had a crush on Marinette but it only lasted a week. That’s kind of how it is with most of the people from our class.”

“What?” Adrien said.

“Yeah, literally everyone has had a small crush on Marinette at one point or another growing up. You’re like the only person who hasn’t. Which is weird considering how much she dotes on you and swoons around you. Did you really not know about her crush until today?”

“No!”

“Ah...then again you have been head over heels for Ladybug I don’t suppose you would have noticed anyone else unless they confessed to you point blank.” Nino said. He had thought that Adrien’s crush on the spotted hero of Paris was something that had been waning recently once he had agreed to go out with Kagami. But when they broke up it had returned full force.

“Marinette, hold on a second,” Alya shushed Marinette on the other line and turned to Nino with wide eyes, “Did you just say that Adrien has a crush on Ladybug?”

“Uh yeah? Why?”

“What’s going on?” Adrien asked.

“Alya is--”

Alya snatched the phone out of his hands. She held up the other phone with Marinette on the line. “Girl, I know you are spiraling right now but I am gonna need to call you back. I swear I will only be like ten minutes max. Goodbye.” she turned to Nino’s phone, “Now you, pretty boy, I’m gonna need you to repeat that for me.”

“That I have a crush on Ladybug?” Adrien answered timidly.

“How long has that been a thing?”

“Since she first showed up in Paris. Why?”

Nino saw the calculations going off in Alya’s head as she processed this information. Had she not known? He was sure she had to have known but apparently that wasn’t the case.

“Adrien, listen to me very carefully,” Alya said, “You are going to want to accept Marinette’s feelings.”

“Listen, Alya, I know that you are her best friend but--”

“No buts, Agreste!” Alya snapped, “Really listen to me here. I know that you have feelings for Ladybug. Who wouldn’t? She’s amazing but she’s also a superhero with a secret identity. Do you really think you can take Ladybug out to the movies or invite her home for dinner? How are you gonna call her? How do you plan on making that work?”

“Well I--”

“Moonlight rendezvous over the rooftops of Paris sound fine and dandy but you know what else is nice? Marinette. Tangible and readily available with romantic feelings already pre-downloaded in her core. You already call her our Everyday Ladybug. What more do you want?”

“I see your point. But that situation is a little more complicated than that.”

“No it isn’t. Do you not think Marinette is great?”

“She is. She really is.”

“Do you not think she is cute?”

“She is very adorable and attractive. I will confess to that.”

“So if Ladybug wasn’t a thing then would you consider dating Marinette?”

“I mean I guess. But Ladybug is still real and she owns my heart. I can’t just give up on her that easily.”

“Adrien, I do not know how to tell you this but you are not giving up anything by dating Marinette. She is every bit as amazing as Ladybug and you would do well to remember that. As a wise man once said, “far better than any dream girl, is one of flesh and blood, one warm and caring, and right before your eyes.””

“Did you steal that from The Little Mermaid?”

“Not the point! Just think on it. You have two weeks before you come back and make a decision. I suggest you use the time wisely and really consider what I’m telling you. I’m not just saying this because Marinette is my best friend but because I know deep in my gut that you two were made for each other. The only one that doesn’t see it is you.”

“You think we’re made for each other?” Adrien’s voice was soft and quiet. It made Alya’s heart melt.

“I do. I think that you two would make each other so incredibly happy.” Alya sighed, “But no pressure or anything. At the end of the day it is your heart and your choice. I’m just asking you to look at all the possibilities before you make a decision.”

“Okay, I’ll think on it. I promise.”

“Good. Now I gotta call Marinette back before she worries herself into a human pretzel. Bye.” Alya handed the phone back to Nino. She dialed Marinette back and wandered into her room for privacy.

“Why did you hang up on me?” Marinette asked. “I am having a crisis here!”

“Girl,” Alya’s face broke into a grin that would put the Cheshire Cat to shame. “You are not gonna believe this. Adrien’s had a crush on you this entire time. Or rather, a huge, massive, fanboy crush on Ladybug that is.”

“WHAT!”

*Two weeks later*

Well that was the longest two weeks of Adrien’s life. He had done what Alya suggested and really thought over his feelings for Marinette and Ladybug. The more he compared them the more he realized how alike they were. He knew he called Marinette their Everyday Ladybug but he hadn’t realized how true that was until now.

His heart belonged to Ladybug but he would be lying if he said he didn’t feel anything for Marinette. Adrien knew that through Alya and Nino’s eyes the answer was obvious. Marinette was their friend and classmate and she was so much closer to them then Ladybug. But they didn’t know that Adrien was Chat Noir. They didn’t know that he had a direct line to Ladybug. They didn’t know he had this already huge connection to her.

So what was there to do? Have a happy civilian life with Marinette and stop his pursuit of Ladybug? Or let Marinette down gently and keep trying to make things work with his Lady? He needed to come to a decision quick since his train was getting closer to the Paris station. What if Marinette was waiting out on the platform? What was he going to tell her?

The train came to a screeching halt that flung everyone forward. What in the world was that? HE scrambled to the window and saw the leg of a huge a robot. An akuma.

He was thinking up an excuse to leave his bodyguard when the roof of the train was ripped off. The giant robot looked in and reached out its hand and started grabbing random people and dropping them into its mouth.

He had to get out of here and transform! He made a bolt for the bathroom but the robot got him first and lifted him off the ground. He struggled to get free but he was no use against thousands of pounds of metal and magic.

“Oh no you don’t!” the robot’s arm lurched away from its mouth. Ladybug stood on a nearby building with her yo-yo drawn tight to keep the robot from dropping Adrien down its gullet. “Rena! Now!”

Rena Rouge leapt out from behind Ladybug and pounced at the akuma. She dug her flute down between Adrien and the clamp holding him captive. With a large heave she pried the clamp open enough for Adrien to wiggle free. She reached to grab him but at that moment the robot had broken free from Ladybug’s hold and the pair of them were thrown off.

“I got ya!” Ladybug swooped down and grabbed hold of Adrien. Rena was quick on her feet made a safe landing down on the ground.

They landed on a nearby rooftop for Ladybug to deposit him. “You okay?” She asked.

“Yeah, never better,” Adrien’s heart was beating wildly in his chest.

“Good,” Ladybug looked back at the akuma with a small frown, “I gotta go take care of this guy but you should be safe here.”

“Alright,”

“By the way you’re really cute and I think we should go to a movie sometime. Bye!” Ladybug said quickly and leapt back into the fight.

“Wait! What?!” Adrien shouted after her but she was already gone. He was so stunned that by the time he remembered he was Chat Noir and should be helping Ladybug and Rena Rouge had already defeated the akuma.

The miraculous cure swept across the city and Adrien was deposited back in the fixed train in his seat like nothing had happened. Well this got a whole lot more complicated!

---

(Part 2)

#affectionately named after a tag in OPs post #post gang of secrets #miraculous ladybug #adrien agreste #marientte dupain cheng #alya cesaire #topsy turvy #ladrien question mark? #adrinette question mark? #writing

[venushasvixens]

Chapter 22. - Truth and Trust - Life is but a Dream (Spike Spiegel x Reader)

Word Count: 4K

Warning: angst, emotional

[A/N] HERE IT IS. I hope you all enjoy! <3

-

Spike’s side of the bed was empty and cold.

You had recovered pretty well the last couple of weeks, now getting up and walking around on your own. It still ached, but you had managed. Just took some work and determination. Even so, you couldn’t remember one thing during your rest. There was no memory of how you got here. You came back into consciousness in the last few weeks, and it made you wonder.

What did you do during that time besides sleep?

It wasn’t like you were going to panic if you said something embarrassing. People do crazy stuff when they’re in pain. The situation that pertained you to this thought was Spike. And Jet.

Every morning, you felt a soft kiss on your forehead and the sound of the door closing. Then in the middle of the night, the sound of a door closing, a kiss and the weight of Spike laying beside you. During the day, there was little talk. A communication of tracking bounties and where his location was. But that was it.

Jet was a tad different. He checked on you, asked how you were feeling. But when you asked about your beloved, he would shut the conversation down quickly.

“Out, as usual. Speaking of which, let me do a quick check in with him.” He would reply with a quick smile and a brisk walk out of the living area.

At first, you didn’t mind. In your state, more work had to be put in to keep the Bebop running and the crew alive. But as the days repeated, and the routine continued, you couldn’t help but feel…suspicious.

Of yourself, most of all, but of what you said or did. Spike didn’t take insults to heart that bad, instead having it bounce back with a fist or a witty comeback. Even if you did, you were still going to feel just as bad. If he was angry with you, you would want to know.

“That’s just the way he is, as long as I can remember.” Faye shrugged as you confided in her. “We are busy after all.”

“Yeah. But I can’t help but feel like I did something bad, you know?” You sat in the chair opposite her, watching as she filed her nails meticulously.

“You did get into a fight, that's bad. But not worthy of the silent treatment.” Faye assured you. “I’m sure its all fine and dandy. You’re probably just overthinking the whole thing.”

The footsteps from the kitchen alerted you as you saw Jet ascending the small steps with a mug and donut in hand. “You girls okay this morning?”

“Doing just fine.” Faye mumbled.

“I guess you can say so.” You replied, rubbing your head.

“Everything okay?” Jet questioned. “If you’re hungry, I can grab you a donut, don’t even have to get up-“

“Oh no, I’m okay.” You reluctantly said. “Just a little worried about Spike, that's all. Haven’t seen him at all today. Or much any day for a while.”

“Ah, okay.” Jet nodded slowly, slowly inching away from the living room and up the steps to the hull. “Well! He’s probably just fine. Matter of fact, I’ll call him up as soon as I’m up there, I’d have a moment or two. Scout’s honor, kid.”

You narrowed your eyes. Avoiding the conversation was the last nail in the coffin. “Sounds amazing. Thanks.”

You looked back at Faye, with a questioning glint in your eyes. She shared the same expression, pouting her lips as she delved into the same skeptical energy as you.

-

The rotating hull was still hard on your legs, giving no mercy. Wincing as you climb from the hull through the entrance to the bridge, your feet planted one by one on the other side. Letting the door shut behind you, you heard the shuffling of Jet’s footsteps as he investigated the noise.

“It’s just me.” You called out, clanking down one step at a time slowly. “Checking in thats all.”

You hissed as the final step put some pain in your leg. Jet turned his head to watch you. “Careful now, can’t be falling apart on me.”

“Too little, too late.” You gave a faint smile as you leaned against the console. Deep in his work, you watched as Jet clinked and snapped in whatever he was doing. Something to keep him busy, always. “How was it out there?”

He took a deep intake of breath. “I'd say the same as usual. Didn’t see any bad guys, sadly.”

“Ah.” You replied. “Give me another week and we won't have to worry about that.”

He nodded his head, still focused on the console board. “Sounds mighty fine.”

As usual, what dissipated your physical pain for the briefest of moments was the burning question at the back of your mind. “You’ve seen Spike today, right?”

“Yeah. Before sunrise.” Jet mumbled out, counting under his breath. You waited until he was finished so as to not interrupt him. In the midst of your suspicions, you still had respect.

“Did he say what he went out for?” You asked.

Jet shrugged. “Beats me.”

In the quietness of the bridge, you took a small stroll to the giant windows. Beaming in was warm light, tingling your exposed arms. A sense of calm before what you were going to ask.

“It's odd.”

“What’s that?” Jet replied nonchalantly, still focused.

“You and Spike are thick as thieves and he didn't tell you where he was going.” You stated, crossing your arms. “It’s suspicious.”

“Well, he does run off now and then. Always does when something is bothering him, or he’s feeling cooped up in this metal cage of ours.”

You nodded. Turning around, you looked down at Jet, who was just staring at the console board. No hand movements, no papers or screens open to work on. Even with his head down, you could see his gaze glaring right back at you.

“Okay.” You finally said. “I won’t keep you from your work. So sorry.”

You walked the opposite side of the console board, taking slow steps. It surely was going to be a pain trying to get out of here.

He nodded. “Be careful getting out- hey!”

The console board powered down, fading into a blank slate. Leaning yourself against the table, you watched a Jet grumbled and cursed under his breath.

“What do you know?”

Jet stood up straight. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

You shook your head. “I’m not happy with that answer.”

You both were at a standoff, watching each other carefully. You could see in Jet’s eyes that he was aware. Very aware of your past. It wouldn’t have been so bad if you initially told them. But now that the whole crew was possibly being tracked down at this moment, this was going to be a problem.

And yet, he still didn’t say anything.

“I lied.” You breathed. “But how was I supposed to know that I was tracked? If I knew any sooner, I wouldn’t be here right now.”

“You did.” His shoulders dropped. The disappointment that echoed within you stung. This was the last thing you ever wanted to do to a person that gave you shelter when you needed it most. “But syndicate children make great sharpshooters.”

“He’s disappointed in me, isn’t he? That’s why I haven’t seen him at all.” You confirmed. “Doesn’t want to look at my face.”

“Yes he is. I can’t speak for Spike, but he needs…” Jet trailed off, sighing. “I don’t know what he needs.”

Walking right by Jet, you sat in a chair, contemplating your actions. “He told me all about it, the syndicate he was a part of. All of the stuff he did, the things he saw. I did the same.”

“But you didn’t tell him flat out.” Jet replied, raising his eyebrows. “You let it sit there all this time until something happened.”

“I did.”

You were a complete fuck up. You deserved to be called out on your shit, your deception to those who trusted you most. You didn't have the courage to even say anything back to Jet, and it was going to feel hard to after this. How badly you wanted to disappear. Or start over fresh, tell them flat out so that you could have avoided this situation.

Jet looked at you, and then at the windows of the bridge. “Hey.”

You glanced up at him with teary eyes.

“You see that spot over there?” He pointed to the main window, a bench planted across for a view. “Over there was the first time I had learned anything from him. Of Spike’s past. Before, he never said anything, not a damn word. Then when our life was turning to shit, it just came out.”

You saw as Jet remimence over the memory, his face deep into the thought. “In that moment, (Y/n), I knew. Your past should’ve defined you, but guided you. You are who you are now. You can’t allow yourself to keep living this lie, or it’ll get you killed.”

The shot that hit you sends waves of emotional calm over yourself. It was a different perspective of what you felt just minutes before. “And I think that's what's bothering him too. To see you go through the same thing he did, it's hurting him bad.”

Ah man, another dagger in the heart.

“If I need to go, tell me.”

“I’m not going to kick you out, kid. That’s the last thing I want to do.” Crossing his arms, Jet’s face softened. “Now I knew this conversation was going to happen sooner than later, and yes it does make me upset. But I am not that kind of person to do that. Now what I want you to do is to talk to him, hear him out.”

“You’re right.” You sniffled. “Even with a hit on your head you still want me here?”

He shrugged. “Had worse on me. For all we know, they may have given up on getting back at us.”

Shaking your head, you bit down on your lip. There was no way in heaven or hell that Jo was going to give up so easily on you. When she wanted to finish a job, it was going to get done regardless. This was going to get so much worse.

“Jo doesn’t give up. Without a doubt in my mind she is going to hunt us until the day she dies.” You felt defeated again. Everything that was together not even two weeks ago was now falling apart. Dumb to think that you can have some clarity in your life for once, you thought. “I really don’t know what to do.”

“(Y/n), you know this person inside and out. You’ve looked into her mind, you've done her deeds. So follow that path and get that brain of yours working.” Jet popped on you. In a sense, this is exactly what you needed. A shove back into reality instead of giving up. Your hole of despair had to be put on hold until you were going to figure out what to do. “To find the solution, you have to look at the pattern.”

You nodded. “I needed that, thank you. But what am I looking for?”

“What you seek. What you've always been looking for.” Jet turned the console back on and refreshed the holo computer. “Use this, it's faster than what I’m using.”

Taking this new opportunity in your hands, you sat in the chair and began searching away. You opened the file that contained everything that Jet had accumulated over the time you were knocked out.

“What did you think of my shades?” You pulled up a picture of yourself.

“Think they look rather cool, real cool.” Jet flashed you a smile, reassuring you of your place on the Bebop, and a bonafide hunter in the system.

-

Spike set the Swordfish on cruise, debating on if he should bring himself back to the Bebop or not. His fingers hung loosely around the handlebars, and flexed them lightly. He still hadn’t made up his mind. He did forgive you, silently. And in his mind, not out loud or to your face.

Why was this so hard?

He wasn’t good at apologies or sentimental thoughts that were spoken. It was a “sorry” or “my bad”, and they just accepted it as it was. That was the most people could get out of him. But when it comes to forgiveness? It was an easy option to move on and forget it all happened. This was different.

You both weren’t that different, either. You were both songs of the same tune. Was it because he thought he knew everything about you, and now he didn’t, or that you lied until it was too late..? Christ, he didn’t know.

He sighed in frustration as he circled the airspace once again. As usual when he went missing, an occasional transmission from Jet would come every so often. Even if he was mad at Spike, he still had to make sure the angry bastard was still okay. Common courtesy, no matter what.

The last transmission was in the afternoon, a little after two o’clock. But the sky had dimmed well into evening, and there was the faintest bit of light. Nothing from Jet. Or from you.

No transmission from you.

That puts a greater stress on the situation. Did you know that he knows? If he were to return to the Bebop, what would he be coming back to, he thought. Hoping for a calm approach was out of the question had it involved Faye, so this could be different. Tense, but speaking bluntly and calmly. He just want reassurance, quiet, peaceful-

Transmission incoming. The tag read from you.

Spike’s stomach leaped. The beeps grew loud as he contemplated accepting the message. His hand hovered over, quietly debating. Finally, he pressed the button to accept.

“Yo.” It was all he could say.

You cleared your throat. “Hi.” It wasn't hard to hear the emotion you tried to hide in your voice. “Where are you?”

“Umm, I’m out. Somewhere close, though.”

The pause was great.

“Can we talk when you get back?”

“Yes.” Spike answered immediately.

-

“Yes?” You replied to Spike, in a way relieved that he was wanting to talk to you. It had gnawed at you for the entire day, and you were so ready to get it over with.

“Uh-huh.” He hummed, hearing the roar of his engine as it accelerated back to the ship. “See you soon.”

You cut the transmission before you could say “I love you.” Didn’t seem appropriate right now, even though you wanted to say it so bad. It hurt to not say it to Spike.

After your confession to Jet, you had been on and off crying thinking of all that had transpired. Your fears came back to one hurtful possibility, and that was separating yourself from Spike.

The tears that poured from your eyes could’ve made oceans and lakes. As best he could, Jet passed you tissues any time a sniffle or hiccup of sadness came from your direction. How long that Spike had known, and was letting it fester inside. Reminding yourself of being responsible for it, it only made you cry even more. But it was your mind that was made up that hurt the most. The many plans you had made when Jet wasn’t looking.

What made this all worse was the research you did make.

Locations, names. All were at your fingertips. Something had to be done about it. But in your busy head, there wasn’t a clear answer as to what to do.

He was going to see you soon. He was going to be here. In front of you, to talk about it. Now it was time to wait a bit more, until the judgment was to come.

-

As Spike closed the door to the rotating hull, Jet was waiting opposite.

“I have someone waiting on me.” Spike said as he walked off.

“Sure, but I need to tell you something before you do.” Jet replied, still planted where he was. Stopping, Spike listened.

“I had never seen a girl so in love with someone before until I talked to (Y/N) today. Never experienced it, and probably never will. There’s a lot to lose. Remember that.”

Spike couldn’t walk off fast enough. Even when he was lied to, how fast he wanted to be in your arms and melted into you. But he couldn’t. There was a truth that needed to be shared.

Grabbing the handle of the door to the bridge, he pushed it to the side and stepped in. The illumination from the console lit the bridge, with no other light source. Walking slowly, he gazed longingly at the outline of you looking out into the city. Your soft hair, the curve of your shoulders and hips. He could see you.

His heel clicked against the metal as he took another step. You turned quickly, worried eyes resting on the source of the noise. Finally, he stopped in front of you, hands in pockets.

“I..I need to explain myself.”

Spike eyes honed in on your down appearance. It wasn’t hard to notice your puffy eyes or red nose. “Okay.”

“I wasn’t honest with you. I lied about who I really was, and my life.” You began. “There shouldn’t be an excuse at all. And..and I think I did it to get away from it all, that way of living. Had I known it would’ve gotten to this point, I would have never..”

You threw your arms around, gesturing to the ship as a whole.

“Every second I spent there was a what if. What if I was going to die today, what if I lost my place with Jo. It was going to kill me if I didn’t leave.” You muttered, wincing at the memory. “Before she could do anything, I left.”

The image of your daring escape from the clutches of Red Jack’s flooded back into your mind. Early morning, with a small wallet full of credits and the clothes on your back. The breeze on your face as your feet carried you to the nearest transport station. An alias given, and finally, out of Yun and away from Mars.

While floating with many other souls in space, you remembered your tears of relief. Absolutely free. You could breathe again without question of loyalty or argument.

Just when you were out, you were pulled right back in.

“Dammit, I should’ve told you. I should’ve told you sooner.” You repeat yourself, holding your body closely. “I’m so sorry, Spike. I truly am.”

At this point, you couldn’t hold in your tears at all. How pathetic you looked, blubbering mess begging for forgiveness. You were beyond terrified of losing his love, losing him. You didn’t want the one good thing that has ever happened to you in your life to leave you.

Through dim lights, you could feel his eyes gaze into you. “S-say something, please.” You begged. Please, I can’t stand this silence.

“You’re right. You should’ve told me from the beginning.” Spike began. “But its…understandable.”

You nodded softly.

“You’re the only person I ever really told about who I was before this.” He said lowly. “Why couldn’t you just tell me?”

“A-at the time, I was living low. Or so I thought.” You mumbled. “I really thought they had forgotten all about me. Who they were looking for didn’t exist anymore. She was just a thing of the past.”

“And they still found her.”

You sat defeated in the double seat at the head of the bridge. “I didn’t try hard enough to disappear.”

Spike sat next to you, keeping a short distance. “You didn’t. But how else was I supposed to see you?”

You huffed softly. It surprised you. In a moment where you thought you were about to lose everything, how simple a sentence could wipe that feeling away.

“If I put a different spotlight on, it would be easier.” You replied back. “Could’ve revealed who I really was sooner.”

“But this is you.”

You glanced at Spike, shaking your head. “No. Its not.”

How you looked in the mirror at yourself after a “situation” that had to be dealt with with Red Jack’s. Many times this would happen. Blood splattered on your face, gun still hot in your holster. Eyes blank as you stared at yourself. The face of an enforcer, a killer. Judge and executioner.

That who you felt you really were.

You felt two soft hands gently nudge your body. Turning you to face him, Spike’s hold on you was still. You didn’t know what was about to happen. You didn’t want to know what he was going to say. It was going to hurt either way.

“Whoever you think is the real you, it isn’t. People change, (Y/N). Sometimes for the better. You took the bigger step to leave the life you thought you knew. It’s hard to do. Most can’t come to terms with the thought.” He stated, voice low. “But you did.”

You nodded.

“I wasn’t honest either with Jet. I wanted to keep what I was a secret, out of sight and mind.” He confessed. “I think that’s why I’m not as upset. It's because I’ve been down the road and I did the same thing. Hypocritical of me to judge.”

“Its going to be hard to forgive me.”

Spike shook his head. “I already have forgiven you. But I need you to listen to me.” His hands trailed from your arms to the frame of your face, allowing you to see him. “I need to trust you. You need to trust me. If we are going to make this work, it has to be that way. No more secrets or lies.”

“No more secrets or lies.” You repeated back, taking Spike’s words to your head, cementing it deep to never forget. “I really don’t want to lose you.”

“You never will.” He replied, kissing your forehead softly. His lips lingered, sending another bout of relief throughout your body. “I love you.”

“I love you more.” You sighed, placing your hand over his.

You both sat on the bridge for an eternity. Silent, except the deep thumps of your hearts beating and a shuffle as you made yourself comfortable in Spike’s arms. There was nothing spoken, but it wasn’t awkward. Nothing needed to be said. Spike held on as tightly as you did.

Your head rested on Spike’s chest. The future brought uncertainty. It still plagued your mind. In the moment where you should’ve felt safe, a pang of dread was in your side. You had to protect your new home somehow. Your home was Spike, but it wasn’t only him.

It was Jet.

It was Faye.

It was Ein and Ed.

You looked up at Spike, not surprised to see the man you loved deep in thought. Was he thinking the same thing as you? Your plan that you put on the backburner was set aflame once more. This home you have, the one you prayed and begged for, was going to be fought until the end. Seeing it, you would give anything to keep it safe.

“Spike?”

“Hmm?”

“If something happens, are you with me? By my side?”

You felt the intake of breath from Spike.

“Until the very end. I’ll always be with you.”

#fanfiction #cowboy bebop #faye valentine #90s anime #jet black #radio free mars #spike spiegel #see you space cowboy #spike spiegel x reader #spike spiegel headcanons #spike spiegel requests #spike spiegel x you #spike spiegel x y/n #spike spiegel fanfic #whatever happens happens #youre going to carry that weight

[mayans-sauce]

Break Up, Make Up (1/3)

Pairing: Bishop Losa x Female Reader

Word Count: 2.4K

Warnings: NSFW, 18+ ONLY, angsty af to begin with! Mention of Riz being dead, break up, cursing, it gets a little bit physical but it’s barely, a little bit smutty

Based on this request from anon Bishop please!! He did the dumb thing and broke up with you to protect you but then he's watching you pack your stuff up and he can't go through with it and apologises and.... Smut! 🔥🔥🔥 but I did change some things up so I hope that’s alright!

A/N: Part 1 of this Bishop fic I’m working on. I promise that part 2 will be heavy with smut! Hope you all enjoyed❤️

• Part. 2 • Part. 3

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“So it’s not me? It’s you? Huh, Bishop? Really? That is so cliche!”

You and Bishop had a heated argument in Templo. You weren’t sure how it started because one minute, it looked like it was all fine, and the next minute you were fighting and breaking off your relationship.

You had come over to check on him since he had been so distant lately after Riz’s death. He hadn’t been himself lately, especially not with you, and he showed it by not answering your calls or not coming home when he was supposed to. You figured that he just needed some time after the loss of his brother, but you were concerned and worried about his well-being, so you came over to check on him.

When you walked into Templo, he was all alone. The lights were dimmed; the only source of light was his cigarette in his mouth that lit up his face, a glass of whiskey in the other one.

He hadn’t heard you come in, his mind deep in thoughts about whatever was bothering him. “Bishop?” His head perked up at the sound of your voice, a small smile on his face that quickly dropped to the one he had before just moments ago. “Can I… come in?” You were still standing at the door, not sure if he wanted you to come in or not. “Of course,” his voice was a little hesitant, but you were glad that he accepted the invite.

You stood by his side, a hand was laid on one of his tense shoulders, “Is everything alright?” He didn’t say anything; he just signaled you to sit on his lap. You did so, and your arms went around his neck as one of his arms curled around you. The sides of your heads resting against one another as you took in the sound of each other’s even breaths and the faint noise from outside the room.

Nothing was said for a while, and everything felt fine and dandy until he spoke words that you would have nightmares about.

“I think we should break up…” That took you off guard. It looked like everything was okay now with you two softly cuddling together. Why did he say that?

“Wh-what?” Both of your hands were on his chest to pull you away a little to get a good look at him. “Wh-what are you saying, Bishop?” He made you get up so he could stand as well, standing at opposite sides of his chair.

“We should break up Y/N. I’m not… good for you… I can’t take care of you. I can’t protect you. You will end up hurt in the end or even worse dead if you stay by my side… like Riz.”

“Bullshit Bishop,” anger in your voice as you spoke, arms crossed in annoyance, “Riz knew what he signed himself up for when he joined the club; all of them did, I did as well when I decided to be with you. I know the risks of being involved in the club, and I don’t care. That is my own risk to take, and I won’t think twice about it if that means that I get to be with you.”

He let you have this little rant, not saying anything, just listening to you as he always did when you spoke. He respected your words, and he would never talk over you until you finished.

“Sweetheart, I… still think we need to break up. I love you. I always have, and I always will, and this has nothing to do with you as a person because you are just so… fuck… so wonderful, caring, and the most beautiful woman on this planet, but I don’t deserve you; I’m not good for you. I won’t corrupt you with my life in the club; I just can’t.”

He had no emotion on his face as he spoke. That was his way of trying to hide how he felt. He was angry and heartbroken on the inside, but this felt right in his heart. It felt right to let you go so that you would be safe and protect from him and the club, even if letting you go gave him enormous pain and suffering.

“So it’s not me? It’s you? Huh, Bishop? Really? That is so cliche!” Now you were almost screaming, not caring that the rest of them were just right outside those doors. “Please, Bishop,” your voice was just a whisper now, sad and innocent as you tried your best to persuade him into thinking more about this haste decision, “please don’t leave me.”

“I-I’m sorry querida… this… I just…” he couldn’t get his words out; they were too painful to utter. His head was now down in shame at the pain he had inflicted upon you. When he finally looked up at you, into those eyes that had him fall in love with you all over again, but they weren’t happy and cheerful like they always were when you looked at him. Tears were falling, and they looked hurt and empty.

“Y/N I-“ you cut him off, you didn’t want to hear any more from him, “I think I’ve heard enough Bishop… I’ll leave now… goodbye.” You just wanted to leave as soon as possible, not hearing his pleas for you to stay so he could explain himself.

Bishop didn’t register what had just happened until the sound of the Templo door closed. Only then did he realize how much he had fucked up and how much he regretted what just happened. He needed you in his life. He would always need to have you there by his side to love and comfort him, even when he was such a dick. Bishop knew he had fucked up big time. All you wanted was to try and help him in this challenging situation.

Coming home to your shared house, the first thing you did was find your suitcase to pack. All of your belongings wouldn’t fit into one, but for right now, you just packed a few clothes and such. You would need to agree with Bishop to pick the rest of your things another time, but the pain and hurt to be in your house with all the memories you created were too much, and you just needed to get out of there as fast as you could.

Amid your packing, you heard the front door open and close, heavy and rushed footsteps that belonged to no other than Bishop coming closer to your shared room. The door burst open, and he was met with you packing the last few things before you closed it and got up to stand. “I’m leaving.”

“Y/N I-“ “I’ll see you soon, Bishop.”

You quickly went to the front door, ready to get out of that house. Bishop was hot on your tail. He needed to fix this; he just needed to. He couldn’t lose the only thing in life that meant so much to him. He called your name again and again as you went through the house to the door.

“What, Bishop?” You finally answered; your body turned towards him just as you were about to open the door.

“Please don’t leave! Please baby! I-I didn’t mean any of those things! I didn’t know what got over me.”

He would expect you to forgive and forget as easy as it was to breathe, but you wouldn’t let him have that. He hurt you badly, and the words he said did have some truth to it.

“You hurt me, Bishop, do you know that? I just… can’t forgive so easily… I just need to get out of here for a while. Maybe we both need some time apart before we continue this.” You felt bad about leaving him while he was still grieving the loss of Riz, but he wouldn’t accept your reassurance and comfort, so in your mind, you thought that it would be best to leave him for a while so he could take it at his own pace, and when you were both ready again you would make this work.

“Goodbye, Bishop,” and with that, you were out the door.

————

It had been a few days after you had left your shared home. Coco and Letty had been so kind to let you stay with them while you worked shit out. You hadn’t heard anything from Bishop personally, but Coco came home with updates for you. Bishop was sad, angry, and snappy at all of them. It didn’t sound like he was getting better with you gone, and after a few days, you realized that it was a mistake that you left.

That’s when you decide to go back to the house and talk with him, work out how you would move forward. Upon arrival, the place was dark, and it looked like no one was home. When you entered the front door, a strong smell of cigarettes could be felt in your nostrils. It was a sign that he indeed was here. Following the scent into the living room, you found him on the sofa with smoke in hand. The room was dark except for a lamp in the corner that gave off a faint light.

“What the fuck are you doing here,” he spat out after taking a long drag from the smoke. Brought back a little, you blinked your eyes rapidly a few times to get your bearings.

“Nice to see you, Bishop,” you answered sarcastically while your arms crossed and you propped your hip.

“You left me, didn’t you, so why the fuck are you back?” You couldn’t help but roll your eyes at him and how he was acting.

“You didn’t answer my calls when I tried to reassure and comfort you when… he died,” you didn’t dare say his name in case it triggered something in Bishop, “and then you talk about wanting to break up with me? I just thought you needed some time Bishop and besides, you hurt me with what you said. I came back now to work something out, but I can clearly see that you don’t want me here. So I’ll just leave you to it.” You turned on your heel and marched out toward the front door.

“Get back here!” His heavy footsteps could be heard behind you. Just as you were about to open the door to leave, Bishop grabbed your forearm a little more hard than he intended to, pulling you towards him.

“Ouch!” You yanked your arm away from his tight grip that hurt you a little. Two of your hands went to his chest to push him a little away from you. “Do not touch me, Bishop!”

All you did was stare at each other as it felt forever, but it was only a couple of seconds. The built-up tension that had been brewing for the last few days could be felt between the two of you. You knew where this would end up, like it always did, with some hot and steamy make-up sex, because as much as you got angry and frustrated with one another, you both couldn’t keep it up for long and would eventually snap.

You tried your best this time not to make that happen, but you failed to move an inch, to get away from the situation you knew was going to happen. His eyes told you all his secrets; they were dark and dilated, hungry with the need of you after so long.

It didn’t take long for him to take significant strides towards you, pinning you between him and the outer door, holding your hands above your head so you couldn’t touch him.

His hungry lips found your desperate ones, moving them against you almost animalistic, sucking and biting your bottom lip. They slowly moved down towards the valley of your breasts but not before biting and sucking on your pulse point, which made your knees buckle.

He tapped the back of your thighs to let you know that he wanted you to wrap your legs around him. Doing so, he walked you back to the shared bedroom effortlessly. Once inside, he dropped you down and ordered you to take off all your clothes. He watched as you stripped down each article of clothing, his hand palming his growing erection that started to become too tight in his jeans.

When all of the clothing was off, he took some time to admire your body, his heart beating faster and faster as he was watching you. Even though you always got insecure when he was staring at you like that, he continuously reassured you that for him, it was like looking at a piece of beautiful art.

“Don’t you dare to fucking cover yourself,” he spoke in an almost aggressive tone when he saw you cross your arms around your stomach, trying to hide from him. “You are perfect, doll, don’t ever hide from me, you understand?” You gave him a nod of your head, telling him that you understood, “now come here,” he beckoned you with his finger to come closer to him.

When your faces were inches away from each other, he pointed down to the floor, and you knew what that meant. He was in control tonight, and you had no other choice but to listen to him. You happily went on your knees, no questions asked as you loved to bring Bishop such great pleasure with your mouth. It was one of your favorite things that you did for him.

“Are you gonna be a good pet tonight and listen to me?” A faint “yes” left your lips; something Bishop wasn’t too happy about. His hand went behind his ear, “I can’t hear you.” “Yes, I will be good tonight.” “Good because the night is young and I’m gonna take my sweet time at destroying you tonight.”

To Be Continued...

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[madswonders]

A Lesson In Romance #10: Thoughts

Spencer Reid x Fem!BAU!Reader

Genre: Hurt/Comfort

Warnings: Implied anxiety, Mentions of canon-typical violence

Word Count: 2.5k

Plot: Reader keeps getting caught in rom-com situations with Spencer Reid. This time, they're paired together on a case.

A/N: I know that the BAU's conference room has big-ass glass windows but just imagine that the blinds are closed for the entirety of this chapter aha. Also this chapter is a doozy... like 1k words longer than usual, so enjoy!

Masterlist | All chapters here!

---------

As Peter Gizzi once described the phenomena of love, "About you there is nothing I wouldn’t want to know / With you nothing is simple yet nothing is simpler."

In high school, your reputation always preceded you. The cynic that never had a boyfriend, much less a drunken one-night stand; a prude who waited over ten dates to have her first kiss; or the "ice queen" who kept her emotions locked up and threw away the key.

If they saw you now, you wondered if they would laugh at how you've changed; because these days, you looked like you were keeping the best secret in the world, one that threatened to burst from your lips every time you smiled.

What you didn’t know, is that you didn't need to be a profiler to see it. From the bubbling laughter and whispered conversations, to the not-so-secret longing glances. You and Spencer disappeared into your own world when you were together, and everybody knew it.

And for the first few weeks, that was enough. You found it easier than usual to ignore the thoughts that lurked in the back of your mind. That is, until you couldn't.

"... I want you and Spencer to work on the geographic profile." Hotch had announced, and you remembered the feeling of your blood running cold.

There were two reasons for this. First was the fact that this case linked twenty homicides across three years to a single unsub. If there was any case that required the two nerdiest members of the BAU to team up, this was it.

Unfortunately, that fact was closely followed by an overwhelming fear — and you wanted to preface this by saying that you were usually a woman of logic and science — but, somehow, you couldn't shake the thought that something bad was going to happen to you and Spencer, and you weren't ready for it.

Leaning against the cool conference room wall, you tapped your toes in an impatient rhythm against the carpeted floor. You were trying to recite what you learned from your PhD; that your mind was jumping to conclusions and that it was normal to be nervous. It was normal to feel this way. You were normal.

"Are you okay?" Spencer asked, jolting you out of your mantra.

You realised your boyfriend had been talking to you for awhile now, but clearly, you weren't listening. You shook your head apologetically.

"Sorry, I was just thinking. Could you say that again?"

"I was just saying, you can start by pinning the names and locations of the victims, and I'll put up the crime scene photos... but are you sure you're okay?" He asked again, this time shooting you those puppy dog eyes that made you weak.

"Y-yeah, I'm fine. Let's get to work." You said firmly, grabbing the box of push pins. You felt his gaze linger on you for a second, before he began picking up his own stack of pictures.

The first hour sped by quickly as you and Spencer listed out all of the unsub’s possible motives and next victims. At the half hour mark, Hotch dropped in to check on your progress, bringing takeaway coffee and leaving with a rare smile.

At the second hour, the rest of the team returned with some new leads, and unfortunately, new bodies, but nothing that helped solidify the profile any further than what you already had.

At the fifth hour, there was no denying it. The team had hit a wall. While the rest of them were back in the field investigating more leads, you sipped on your second cup of coffee while staring at the evidence board. Spencer paced the room behind you.

"The messy dump sites. The carvings onto the victims' chests. One points to the unsub being disorganised and inexperienced, but the other is a clear, almost narcissistic ritual." The doctor thought aloud.

"Usually that means the unsub is trying to make a statement, but he killed his first ten victims before the police found out, then killed another seven and three right under their noses before going dormant. If he wanted to make a statement, why wouldn't he tip off the police or media sooner?" He grumbled.

"Are we sure it's not a taunt to the local police’s competency? Many of his first victims were found in secluded areas with limited police support." You pointed out, tapping the edge of your cup in thought.

"No, the victimology and locations are too wide spread. A taunt would present a clearer message." He said.

You turned around suddenly, causing him to halt in his steps. "Here's something completely off the wall — but what if the unsub was trying to achieve a specific pattern with his kills?" You said, gesturing with your cup.

Tap, tap-tap, tap, you created the rhythm with your finger.

"That would explain why he isn't acting like a narcissist. Maybe he's suffering a mental condition that compels him to complete a certain pattern, and subsequently, ritual with his kills. Could be rhythmical, musical, numerical..." You explained.

"Numerical. That's it!" Spencer squeaked, rushing to the board with a marker. "I thought these numbers seemed familiar earlier, that's because they make up prime numbers!"

He backed away from the board to reveal what he wrote. The numbers 2, 3, 5, 7, and 11. A lightbulb turned on in your head.

"2, 3 and 5 make up the first ten kills. 7 is the next, which he managed to complete perfectly, but something happened to the unsub at 11." Spencer voiced your thoughts.

"He might have been incarcerated, or injured. But we can't rule out the possibility that he might have moved out of town and resumed the pattern elsewhere. So either we can expect 8 more victims here, or the unsub has already moved onto the next number: 13." You quickly finished the train of thought.

"Love, you're a genius!" Spencer rushed over to pick you up by the waist, twirling you as you laughed in relief. But the relief turned to surprise when he kissed you deeply.

God, he was good at this. Even when your feet touched the ground, it felt like you were seeing stars. Though it was only when your lips parted that he had the decency to blush.

"Love?" You breathed.

Spencer's cheeks turned crimson in embarrassment, but he didn't back away. Instead, he leaned forward, bumping your foreheads together gently.

"I didn't know you had that in you, doctor." You teased.

"Well, my mother did school me in classic romance literature from a young age. Not to mention, I happen to be a genius at most things..." You could hear the smile in his voice, and you giggled.

The doctor pulled away then, an adoring smile still plastered across his face. "Are you fee—" He began, but his voice died in his throat as his gaze fixated on something behind you.

"Ooooh, am I interrupting something?" You turned around to see none other than Penelope smiling coyly from the doorway, and the two of you jumped apart.

"N-no, nothing!" Spencer blurted out.

"All fine and dandy here." You added on, blushing furiously.

The tech analyst smiled deviously. "Well, I thought I'd come and check on my two favourite lovebirds. Anything else from the case for me to chew on? Except whatever that was earlier." She teased.

"Actually, there is." You cleared your throat awkwardly, while the good doctor looked like he wanted to melt into the carpet.

"We need you to search up murders in neighbouring cities that match the mutilation by our unsub, then cross-reference the time frame with any new residents. We suspect he might be trying to complete a pattern, and that he may have done it somewhere other than here." You said.

"On it, future-Mrs-Genius. I will get back to you so fast that you won't even have time to get down and dirty." She half-yelled that last bit, heels clicking as she walked back to her office. Before you could even formulate a response, she was gone.

You felt your boyfriend wrap his arms around you from the back. "Now, where were we?" He whispered.

You giggled, leaning back into the doctor's chest while he rocked your bodies side to side. "Are you feeling better now?" He asked.

"Next time someone says it's not as intense in here as it is out there, I'm going to give them a stern talking to." You joked.

"You know what I mean, love." Spencer reiterated gently, the pet name falling from his lips like it was the most natural thing in the world. "If you tell me about it, I can help you. You know I'm always here for you."

You sighed softly, blinking back tears that threatened to spill.

"It's something stupid. I-I'm fine."

He turned you around, brows furrowing in concern when a tear rolled down your cheek. "What's wrong?" He asked, wiping it away tenderly.

"I— I was worried about us working together." You admitted. "And it's not because I don't like working with you, but I just— I just couldn't—"

"Take a deep breath, love. Slowly." He held your shoulders as you breathed in and out, once, twice.

"I've been afraid this whole day — no, for awhile now — that something was going to happen to our relationship." You confessed shakily. "And it's not about our jobs — although I worry about that too — but I'm scared that one day you'll wake up and realise that I'm not worth the trouble."

You looked up at the ceiling, trying to stop the next wave of tears.

"A-and it's only gotten worse because I've never been so h-happy with another person before. Only you've made me feel this way, and I'm t-terrified that I'll lose what we have."

There was a brief silence as Spencer pulled you close to his chest, one hand stroking your hair carefully. You could hear his heart beating fast.

"Do you remember when the team tricked us into sharing a bed?" He whispered, a hint of a smile trickling into his voice. "I think about it every single time we're about to go into the field. Because you said you'd never leave me, and now, whenever we're out there, I know I'm not alone."

He breathed in deeply, your head gently rising and falling together with his chest.

"You've given me someone to come home to, love. What we have, you'll never lose it, okay?" He whispered.

"Baby, I—" Your voice halted. Crap.

"Wait. Baby?" Spencer repeated back to you, a teasing lilt in his voice. Your face flushed, and you unwinded your arms from your boyfriend to cover your face.

"Oh god, can we pretend that didn't just happen?"

"I have an eidetic memory." He pointed out. You let out a watery laugh, knowing when you had lost.

"Alright, alright. But I do have another ide—"

Then, the conference room phone rang. It was Emily. "Hey guys, Garcia managed to narrow down the unsub and we're 10 out, but we'll need some back-up."

"Be there in 15." You replied, while Spencer shot you an amused look, Luckily, he waited for the call to end before saying the next words.

"Let's go, baby." He wiggled his eyebrows.

You rolled your eyes and laughed, already strapping on your kevlar. "That's it. You're not driving."

"Aww!"

---------

After the major breakthrough in the case — all thanks to Nerd 1 and Nerd 2, as Derek fondly called the two of you — the case managed to wrap up neatly and the BAU found themselves in a rare position. Ready to end the work day, on time.

Not that anybody was packing up to leave just yet, although you wished they would, because Penelope had decided to start enthusiastically retelling how she found the BAU's resident lovebirds in the conference room, unable to keep their hands off each other.

"Last I heard, pet names aren't a crime — and how long were you standing there anyway?" You accused, blushing.

"Firstly, they are. Criminally cute, that is!" Penelope squealed, while the rest were in fits of laughter. "And secondly, you should never underestimate my awesome ninja abilities, because I heard everything that I needed to hear."

"Do I even want to know?" Spencers winced.

"I don't think you do, pretty boy." Derek laughed, clapping the genius on the back.

"Wait, wait, wait. Can we go back to how Spencer's pet name of choice is love?" Emily gasped in laughter.

"You've got to admit it's kind of cute, Emily." JJ smiled.

"Sure. If you're courting Mr. Darcy and attending cotillions."

"C'mon, Prentiss. All that means is that our boy's got style." Derek added to laughter, while Spencer whined in protest.

The door to Hotch's office opened suddenly, both him and Rossi stepping out with expressions of urgency on their faces.

“Sorry to break up the fun, kiddos. But there's been an update to the case.” Rossi announced, following right behind Hotch to the conference room.

The laughs were wiped off everybody's faces as you traded concerned looks. As you filed into the room, Hotch had already begun speaking.

“Another body was found half an hour ago. Same MO, same random victimology, and same kind of dumpsite. And the unsub just told us where to find his copycat.”

“Wait, we never profiled a second unsub.” Derek interjected.

"It doesn't makes sense — the first unsub is a control freak. He didn't like the idea of anybody messing with his sequence. Wouldn't he have done something if he knew somebody else was copying his pattern?" You asked.

"We profiled that he wouldn't be able to deviate from his pattern. What if he had to continue, even when somebody else was committing some of the crimes for him?" Spencer countered.

“Hold on, you said the unsub gave us a location?” Emily asked.

"And a time." Rossi voiced up. “8pm tonight at The Basil. The first unsub claims that's where the copycat finds his next targets."

"How do we know if we can trust him?" Derek asked.

"We don't. But he didn't display any telltale signs of doubt when he told us, and this is the only lead we have." Hotch's frown deepened. You had a feeling he didn't like the idea of this either, but the team didn't have a choice.

"Okay, if we're doing this, he can't know we're onto him," Emily thought aloud, "and we'll need precautions in case it's a trap. That means..."

"Undercover agents... and the bait." Hotch said with finality.

“And who did you have in mind for that?” You piped up, and everyone turned their eyes to you.

“You and Reid.” He stated the obvious.

“B-b-but, I’ve never gone—"

“You’ve more than proven your abilities in the field since you joined us, and having natural chemistry will make it less suspicious to the unsub.”

You opened your mouth, but no words fell from it. Hotch was right. Of course he was right.

As if hearing your thoughts, Spencer took your hand in his and squeezed, and you felt a little calmer already. “Ok, I’ll do it.” You said determinedly, while the doctor echoed your sentiment.

Hotch nodded, beginning to assign roles to the rest of the team while you squeezed your boyfriend's hand tighter, a new mantra forming in your head.

Everything is going to be okay. Everything will be okay.

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